Kumi shot upward through the shattered ceiling, his body cutting clean through drifting dust and splintered wood. Debris spun around him, caught in the violent rush of air.
Above him, the six cloaked figures were still falling. Their bodies twisted mid-air, trying to recover, trying to regain control as gravity dragged them down. Cloaks snapped wildly, fabric cracking in the wind.
The massive space above opened wide into shadow—vaulted beams stretching high, banners hanging loose, distant windows flashing past in blurred streaks of light. The air roared in their ears.
The first attacker moved. A tall figure in black twisted sharply, both hands thrusting forward. Wind erupted. A violent gale tore from his palms, screaming through the air with enough force to slice stone. It surged toward Kumi like a blade.
Kumi didn't dodge. His smirk widened instead. The wind slammed into him—and he leaned into it. His purple eyes flashed with something sharp.
"Dean's wind magic is way better than this weak shit."
He raised two fingers. Flicked them. The rushing gale froze. Not into ice chunks. The wind itself locked in place, turning into countless razor-thin crystal edges suspended in the air. For a brief moment, everything stood still—then it shattered.
The frozen gale exploded backward. A storm of cutting shards tore straight into its caster. The man screamed as the crystals ripped through his cloak, his skin, carving deep into his body.
The scream didn't last long because Kumi was already there. His hand drove straight through the man's chest as if there was nothing there to stop it. His fingers closed around something warm.
He pulled. The heart came free in one clean motion. The moment it left the body, it froze—its surface turning into shimmering red crystal mid-pulse.
The man's body locked instantly. Every drop of blood inside him froze solid. He fell in silent and rigid. Like a statue breaking away from the sky.
The second and third attackers came together. Side by side. Their hands glowed with shifting light. Water. Twin torrents surged forward, twisting through the air like massive serpents. They roared as they moved, coils of water spiraling together, aiming to crush and suffocate him in a single strike.
Kumi let out a short laugh. He didn't slow down. Instead, he exhaled. Just once. That single breath scattered into the air—transforming into a storm of microscopic ice needles. They rode the falling current, invisible until they struck.
The needles pierced the rushing water. And froze it. From the inside. The liquid serpents stiffened mid-motion, turning into jagged, solid spears of ice. Pointing backward. Toward their casters.
The two men tried to move. Tried to escape. But it was too late. Kumi slipped forward between the frozen spears as if everything around him had slowed to nothing.
His left hand drove into the first man's chest. His right into the second. Two hearts. Still beating. He pulled them free at the same time. The warmth vanished instantly, both turning into cold blue crystal in his grip.
The bodies froze where they were, arms still stretched forward, spells unfinished. Then they dropped. Falling past him in silent. Like lifeless statues tumbling through the air.
-----
The fourth figure twisted mid-air, his body snapping into position as fire burst from his palms. Bright orange flames roared outward, spinning into a blazing wheel that tore through the falling air. Heat spread fast, warping the space around it, melting the edges of drifting debris.
For a moment, the dark space above lit up like a small sun. The heat washed over Kumi's face. He didn't even blink. He raised one hand and opened it.
Then slowly—closed it. The flames stopped. Every flicker, every twisting tongue of fire froze mid-burn. The blazing wheel turned into something unnatural—perfect red crystal, suspended in the air like a sculpture carved from stillness itself. The man's eyes widened behind his mask. His own magic had turned against him.
Kumi stepped forward. His foot landed on the frozen flames as if they were solid ground. He moved across them without hesitation, closing the distance in a single breath. Then his hand drove forward. Straight through the man's chest. A clean motion. The heart came out easily.
It froze before it could even fully beat again. The man's body locked up, a sharp cracking sound running through him as veins and blood turned to ice all at once. Then he fell.
The fifth one was smarter. He held back until Kumi finished. Then he struck. Fire exploded outward, twisting into a violent tornado. Flames spiraled wildly, roaring through the air, scorching everything they touched. Dust ignited, turning into sparks that scattered in all directions.
The sixth moved with him. Water surged forward, wrapping around the flames, trying to turn the heat into choking steam—something that would burn and blind at the same time.
For the first time—Kumi's eyes narrowed. His body turned mid-air, spinning once with smooth control. The combined attack reached him—and stopped.
Everything froze. The raging tornado. The swirling water. Locked together inside a perfect sphere. Fire and liquid held in impossible stillness, their motion erased in an instant. The two attackers stared in shock.
Kumi moved. He appeared behind the fire user first. His hand pierced through the man's back without resistance. Fingers closed and pulled. The heart came free.
It froze before it even cleared the chest. The man's body stiffened, flames in his hands turning into ice mid-flicker. He dropped.
The last one turned. Panic broke whatever control he had left. He tried to flee, kicking wildly against the air, throwing out streams of water in desperate bursts. The jets cut through the space like blades, aiming to push Kumi back.
Kumi caught them with one hand. The water froze the moment it touched his palm. It stretched and hardened, turning into chains that shot forward and wrapped around the man's arms and legs in a single heartbeat.
The chains tightened. Yanked and pulled him back. For a moment, they both hung there in the rushing fall. Kumi looked at him. His expression calm.
"You should've stayed home," he said quietly.
Then his hand struck. Through the chest. The heart came out and froze instantly. The last body went stiff. And dropped.
All six were falling now. Six frozen corpses tumbling through open air. In Kumi's left hand, the frozen hearts rested together, clutched loosely like something meaningless.
He glanced down. Far below, through the drifting dust, the meeting room waited. The broken ceiling. The long table. The marble floor rushing closer with every passing second. The bodies would hit soon.
Kumi slipped the frozen hearts into his coat pocket without a second thought. He wiped the blood from his hand against his sleeve, then let himself fall at the same steady pace as the corpses around him.
Wind rushed past his ears. His hair whipped back. A faint smile stayed on his face. Unbothered and unchanged.
He landed lightly on the table beside Dean with no sound. But behind him—the bodies hit. One after another. Each impact shattered them completely, frozen flesh breaking apart into red and blue fragments that scattered across the blood-slick marble like shattered glass.
The room fell quiet again. Kumi brushed a bit of dust from his shoulder, then glanced at Dean and said.
"Done."