The team moved quickly after securing the floor.
Several guards were restrained. Others were unconscious. Smoke still drifted lazily from scorched walls where Brunhildr had broken the frontline moments earlier.
No one wasted time.
"Move, before they regroup." Shams commanded.
The stairwell upward stood partially open.
But the moment they reached the next landing... someone was already waiting.
In the darkness of the shadows, stood a figure in a gentle posture.
The man wore a long dark coat tailored too neatly for someone expecting violence. A gentle old-fashioned hat rested over silver-streaked hair. One hand held a polished black walking stick.
The other rested casually behind his back.
He looked like someone arriving at an opera rather than a battlefield.
He smiled politely.
"Oh dear," he sighed softly. "You all climbed much faster than expected."
His eyes moved calmly across the broken hallway behind them.
"Though admittedly… the entrance was rather theatrical. Haha, bunch of brats we found here. Oh my, let me welcome you."
Henry narrowed his eyes immediately.
"You waiting for us?"
The man tapped the end of his stick lightly against the floor.
"I try not to wait. I do not believe in any tomorrow, son. Let today be your masterpiece. Act now, love now, live now. Time by time, the whole life is built."
A small smile.
"I prefer curating outcomes, you see? Ha, most of us nowadays are lost in wishful thinking again. Shake it off. Realism might not be comfortable but it is the only path that works."
Shams' expression hardened.
"…Alfred."
Henry glanced sideways.
"You know him?"
Shams didn't take his eyes off the man.
"Alfred Hitchcock, the Martial of the Order of the Third Hand. The One Star Agent."
Avery stiffened slightly.
The atmosphere changed. Alfred tipped his hat politely.
"Oh, I still have reputation left? Delightful."
His smile remained strangely warm.
Like a grandfather looking at their children and grandchildren.
Yet his eyes carried something unsettling beneath them. An amusement too calm for someone surrounded by violence.
"You have come for Adam and Zenon, haven't you?" Alfred asked softly.
He sighed as though discussing troublesome children.
"Our Former King, Julius Caesar, instructed me to take care of those two candidates."
He lightly tapped the walking stick again.
"So here I am."
Henry frowned.
"By take care, you mean to let them grudge a war? Harming people and properties?"
Alfred smiled wider.
"Oh goodness, no. I mean making sure they survive long enough to finish causing problems."
Silence. Then Alfred looked at the shattered corridor behind them.
"You know, chaos is such a fragile little thing. You either guide it or get drown in it."
The stick clicked once against the floor.
Alfred Hitchcock took a single step forward.
A low tremor spread beneath their feet. Dust slipped from the ceiling in quiet streams.
The polished end of Alfred's walking stick touched the floor once.
Twice.
His expression remained maddeningly gentle.
"Well then. Shall we begin ruining each other's mornings?"
His Runic Flow spread beneath him in thin spiraling lines. He raised one gloved hand.
He chanted softly. Too softly for something dangerous.
It was like reciting a poem.
The hallway exploded into an immeasurable amount of pressure.
Thin black streaks burst forward at terrifying speed, twisting unnaturally through the air.
Most of them aimed directly at Avery.
"MOVE!" Henry shouted.
But she already had.
Avery twisted sideways instantly.
One strike shattered concrete where her head had been. Another ripped through steel railing. She ducked low, stepped off the wall itself, rebounded through the narrow space, body slipped in with frightening speed.
Only survival sharpened into instinct.
Henry barely managed to follow her movements.
"She has insane agility—"
Avery closed distance fast.
Her blade came up but then Alfred smiled.
"Oh, ambitious."
His fingers shifted. The space around him suddenly erupted.
A violent barrage of compressed force detonated outward in overlapping impacts.
Avery crossed her arms too late. The hit launched her backward.
Her body struck broken concrete hard, momentarily stunned. Before debris could collapse onto her Brunhildr came for rescue.
Her spear swept outward.
A burst of force redirected falling debris while she shielded Avery cleanly.
"Stand, pain arrives before defeat."
Henry felt it then. Something was really wrong.
The feeling pressed from Alfred felt less like strength and more like standing too close to someone who enjoyed uncertainty.
The fight spilled forward into a massive circular chamber.
A strange structure.
The outer floor curved in a ring-like path while the center dropped into a vast hollow opening below, leaving an empty circle at its heart.
Shams Raye stopped suddenly.
"I will hold my position. Henry, manage the close range."
A glance toward Avery, Collin, Brunhildr.
"Take him apart together."
Henry was feeling bad. Something told him this man was far worse up close.
Henry went to attack.
The black katana—Window of the Sky cut through the wall as he rushed forward across the curved platform.
CLANG!
Henry blinked.
"I wonder what your stick is made of."
Alfred Hitchcock smiled pleasantly.
"You would be surprised what survives when treated with affection."
He twisted the stick unexpectedly. The impact redirected Henry's momentum sideways.
Too fast for an old man like him.
Henry recovered immediately and struck again.
Invisible wind arcs cut through the chamber while Alfred met each blow with actions that felt strangely effortless.
Like he was always standing exactly where Henry disliked most.
"You know, your strikes are likely purposeless. Seems like you are forcing yourself to walk side by side with this giant blue orange we walk on! Hahaha!"
Henry swung low.
"Don't talk like someone trying too hard."
Alfred stepped aside instantly.
"Oh no, I simply wonder if you ever think about it."
The stick struck Henry's guard with brute force.
"How many disasters follow wherever you go?"
Henry narrowed his eyes. "Sorry, I am not interested."
"Tell me, how often do you mistake survival for competence?"
Henry pushed forward harder.
"That your hobby? Psychological harassment?"
"No, I am only trying to make you feel the thrill of an old employee carrying everything on his already broken spine."
Henry suddenly stepped back then slashed seeing an opening.
A violent wind slash tore across the chamber as the floor shook slightly.
Alfred walked sideways impossibly fast, coat fluttered lightly as he casually stopped several meters away.
"Ah, emotional attacks. Those are usually my favorite kind."
He adjusted his hat slightly.
The circular chamber shook again.
Smoke drifted upward through broken concrete while sparks burst intermittently from damaged lighting overhead.
Henry slid backward across the curved floor after another exchange.
His arms stung.
Alfred Hitchcock stood several meters away, coat untouched despite everything.
"Tell me something, do heroes ever grow tired of arriving late to disasters?"
Henry wiped blood from the corner of his mouth.
"Nah. But villains sure love hearing themselves talk."
Alfred sighed. "Such defensive humor."
He raised two fingers and snapped.
The chamber erupted. A violent chain of explosions surged outward. Detonating across the floor toward Henry.
Henry barely reacted in time.
"GO!" Avery shouted.
A spear of silver fire tore through the battlefield. Brunhildr stepped forward.
"Flame of Vengeance."
Her spear struck the floor.
Golden fire exploded. Colliding against Alfred's attacks. The pressure shook the chamber violently, releasing waves of heat spreading through floor and objects intact.
Then Alfred snapped his fingers.bThe explosions multiplied.
One forcing retreat.
Another predicting movement.
A third detonating where survival instinct would naturally guide someone.
Brunhildr understood immediately. Her spear swung in a wide arc.
A radiant golden shield unfolded around her.
Shieldmaiden's Resolve. The force had hit her barrier hard but not enough to break it.
The barrier trembled but did not break.
Golden light wrapped around her armor while heat bent against the defense. Her breathing remained calm.
The stronger Alfred pushed, the steadier she became. Her surroundings were warping in a flood of light.
Power is rising in answer to threat itself. Alfred's smile weakened slightly.
"…Interesting."
Brunhildr stepped forward through fire.
"War does not belong to those who frighten others. It belongs to those willing to carry its burden."
She lowered the spear. Silver runes surfaced again.
"Siegrune of the Thousand Glories."
This time, time seemed slower around her.
Her vision were too clean to perceive every little detail.
Among the countless spirits carried through her ancient legend, she choose one to use. A warrior whose instincts had once survived impossible battlefields.
The borrowed grace came smoothly and naturally.
Her perception accelerated unnaturally and through Shieldmaiden's Resolve, it intensified it further.
Alfred moved but it was too late.
To Brunhildr, he had already committed.
She stepped once. Wind bent beneath her feet. A second later, she vanished from the spot quietly like she was never there.
Henry barely saw it.
Brunhildr appeared behind Alfred in less than a mili-second. Her spear already pierced through Alfred.
The blade tore through him with terrifying fatality.
Alfred's body split apart cleanly separating his whole shoulder and arm.
Avery slowly pushed herself upright, one hand against the floor. Still trying to recover from the earlier barrage Alfred had thrown at her.
She looked ahead then stopped moving completely.
"…What just happened?"
Even Henry stood stunned.
His grip around Window of the Sky loosened slightly.
A second ago, Alfred had been standing there. Smiling. Talking. Gaslighting everyone with that stupid calm voice of his.
Then Brunhildr came and... It was just a second... No— not even that...
She had simply crossed the distance and torn him into two. Henry frowned deeply.
"I am sorry. There is no way I just watched an old man get sliced like a load of bread."
Avery looked disturbed in a way Henry rarely saw.
"I didn't even see her move. It looked like he was alive one frame and dead the next."
Before anyone could process further. Collin Brayden suddenly stepped forward. His expression had changed.
"Keep your guard up. Nobody's relaxing."
Suddenly, the floor trembled beneath them.
Like something stitching itself together where it absolutely should not. Everyone turned back.
The remains of Alfred's body were moving.
Slowly, horrifyingly, the separated halves dragged toward one another. Torn flesh rewove. Cracked bones sealed together in gruesome way.
The split coat repaired itself almost mockingly as blood retreated backward like time itself had become confused.
As his shoulder and inner organs were reattached, he stood up.
He adjusted his hat. Then laughed politely as always he did.
"Oh dear, that was unexpectedly rude."
Collin looked genuinely disturbed now.
"No…"
His voice lowered. "That spell… that is Rewinding."
Henry glanced toward him.
"The healing thing?"
Collin shook his head slowly.
"No. It is generally used for healing minor injuries. Rewinding reverses them. Small wounds and temporary damage."
His eyes locked onto Alfred.
"But here… he literally reversed death."
The realization settled heavily across the room.
"Just how much Runic Flow would something like that cost? No normal person could even survive attempting it!"
Collin finally understood. He felt terrified because now he was realizing what an One Star Agent was capable of.
This wasn't merely a powerful enemy. This was a living conscious monster pretending to act civilized.
Alfred sighed again.
"Well, I suppose subtlety has run its course."
The gloves on his hands began glowing. Mist poured outward violently. The building shook even harder.
Runic pressure thickened until breathing itself felt very difficult.
Rock-like armor slowly crawled over Alfred's body in jagged layers. His form expanded, becoming larger, broader, denser. Not absurdly huge but enough to feel wrong.
His movements looked slower now, yet somehow more terrifying. The gentle smile remained.
Only now behind stone and mist... It looked less human.
"Synchronization Astra: Orpheus's Lyre! Angel Path, Rank 4."
The mist swallowed him and when it fades. Something else stood there.
The armored giant took one step. The floor cracked beneath it and Alfred's voice came calmly from inside the stone-like shell.
"Now, shall we continue this conversation properly?"