Third Person POV
The wind screamed in Rin's ears as the world blurred beneath them—rooftops, trees, empty roads—all shrinking as Tress dragged her higher and higher into the ink-black sky. Rin's fingers clawed at Tress's hand, struggling to pry the iron grip from her throat. Her lungs burned, her vision swam, but her spirit refused to yield.
With a guttural cry, Rin slammed her palm against Tress's chest and unleashed a pulse of raw energy. It crackled through the air like lightning, flaring between them with a blinding flash. The force knocked them apart—Rin stumbling backward mid-air, suspended by sheer will, while Tress was flung back a few feet, her hair whipping around her like ribbons of night.
They hovered there, floating in the sky like two fallen stars about to crash. Rin's chest heaved with rapid breaths, her throat bruised, voice raspy. But her eyes—wild, golden, furious—locked onto Tress with disbelief and fury.
"What the hell are you doing?!" she shouted, each word scraping out between gasps.
Tress didn't answer.
Her body drifted still, unnaturally still, as if the wind forgot to touch her. Her arms hung at her sides, head slightly tilted, eyes distant and glassy. Not cold. Not cruel. Just... hollow. Like no one was home.
Rin felt her stomach twist.
"Tress..." she tried again, more warily this time, like speaking to a broken doll. "Say something. Look at me."
But Tress didn't blink.
Her body moved again—slow, deliberate. Not like the Tress Rin knew. It was too smooth, too detached, like she was a puppet. Controlled.
Rin clenched her fists, heart pounding against her ribs like a warning drum. "Who's doing this to you...?"
Still, silence. Only the distant hum of power beneath them, the low rumble of storm clouds rolling across the moonlit sky.
Then Tress's hand rose again—fingers splayed, trembling ever so slightly. And Rin realized, in that split second, that she'd have to fight her friend.
*************************
Killua stood in the ruins of the inn, debris crunching beneath his boots, his breath shallow as his eyes locked onto the trail of destruction left behind. The walls still crackled with residual energy, the air tainted with smoke and something far more bitter—betrayal.
And yet... he couldn't believe it. Not fully. Not Tress.
He clenched his fists, the leather of his gloves creaking under the pressure. Sparks licked at his fingertips, born of nerves and something dangerously close to panic.
Tress wouldn't hurt Rin. She couldn't.
Right?
Killua pressed his knuckles to his mouth, struggling to quiet the storm inside him. He knew Tress. The real her—the one who saved him from drowning in his past, who laughed at his sarcasm, who challenged him, step for step, without ever flinching.
But the look in her eyes lately—the silence, the weight she carried—he'd seen it too.
Something was breaking inside her. Something had broken.
"Damn it..." he muttered under his breath, pacing back and forth.
His heart was screaming that there was still hope. That Tress hadn't crossed the line. That maybe—just maybe—she was forced into something, trapped the same way they all were. Controlled.
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Again | See You Sequel ✮ 𝑯𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓𝑿𝑯𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑿 𝑫𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒐𝒏 𝑩𝒂𝒍𝒍
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