Can’t Plan Against Crazy

  The trail wound downward, pressed between walls of crooked trees and banks of damp moss. The air here was sharp with pine, tinged faintly by smoke carried on the wind from somewhere far ahead.

  Every breath filled Dozai’s chest with something clean, almost medicinal. The five of them drew it in deeply, savoring it, aware that before long, the air would sour again with dust, blood, and confinement.

  Dozai’s eyes swept across the treeline. His ears twitched at the crackle of underbrush, the distant snap of wings above, the uneven rhythm of boots behind him.

  His fingertips flexed, a subconscious check-in with each muscle, keeping every nerve ending alert.

  He catalogued details without meaning to... Tree knots shaped like eyes, the way shadows stretched and folded between branches, how the path veered northwest, pulling them closer to the next area.

  At the head of the line, Master Hellick strode with her usual surety, each step deliberate.

  Lucious followed?a half-step behind her, a silent, unbending shadow.

  A few paces behind, Kota and Delnora leaned toward one another, their words too low to catch at first, though their posture carried an undercurrent of agitation.

  Rei and Nobu spoke in hushed tones about the land itself, marveling at the forest’s color, at how the air shifted as they walked.

  Kenny’s voice rose now and then. Dozai caught fragments about a church, about a childhood spent between stone walls and hymns. Roi listened to him quietly, nodding along.

  Behind them, Rizaru walked alone, shoulders squared, her steps steady even with the guards shadowing her.

  Dozai considered slowing his pace, matching hers, but the thought dissolved almost as quickly as it surfaced.

  There would be time later. Maybe.

  His gaze slipped past the treeline toward the horizon. Just beyond it...

  Faint but undeniable, he caught the outline of spires. A crown of towers etched against the light.

  A kingdom.

  Vestonia. It had to be.

  Rizaru had spoken of it once. Dozai narrowed his eyes, fixing its position in his memory.

  Northeast… Northeast…

  He repeated the direction in his mind, anchoring it as firmly as he could. The path there was closer than he’d expected.

  The murmur of voices blurred until a sharper note cut through them, a grunt, irritated and rough. Dozai’s ears twitched toward it instantly.

  Kota.

  He didn’t need to see the boy’s face to recognize that sound; it carried the same restless edge as always.

  Dozai angled his focus, listening harder, trying to catch the thread of his words to Delnora. If they were speaking of Galvara or of anything that mattered, he wanted to hear.

  He picked up his pace slightly, straining to hear anything they were saying.

  Kota walked with his arms crossed, face rigidly forward. Beside him, Delnora kept her usual calm stride. Dozai didn’t need to see her lips to picture that faint, horrid smile curling there.

  “So, why’d you send Galvara in for the first fight?” Kota asked, voice flat. His eyes stayed ahead. “She was the weakest of the actual hunters.”

  Delnora didn’t even blink. “She was too caring. I wanted to see how far that compassion would stretch, how much she would break for me.” Her gaze drifted upward. “But she showed me her limit.?And you know how I feel about that.”

  Silence hung a beat too long before Kota muttered, low, “You and Lucious are monsters.”

  Her smile sharpened, warm in shape, cruel in weight. “Better an unstoppable monster than an unstoppable human. You should try it, Kota.”

  She reached out, tapping him lightly on the cheek. “This world will chew you up and spit you out. I’ll be sad when that happens.”

  Kota brushed her hand away, jaw tight, saying nothing. But Dozai noticed the twitch of his fingers, tapping faster against his arm.

  “Be more desperate,” Delnora added smoothly, almost sing-song. “Like the rats back there.”

  Dozai’s ears perked. Instinctively, he turned his eyes to the trees, pretending disinterest.

  Sure enough, in the corner of his vision, Kota glanced back.

  That same scowl. The same weight in his stare.

  “Tch. I’ve been desperate my whole life…” he muttered.

  After that, only the squelch of boots in the mud remained, mingled with the low buzz of guards, hunters and workers murmuring to one another.

  They finally arrived to the new area.

  "The Spine" was?a graveyard of industry, the color of rotting steel. Light?slashed?through broken rafters,?cutting the skeletal wreckage into sharp, contrasting beams.

  Each step crunched over gravel and flaked iron, sharp enough to slice skin if you slipped. The air reeked of old oil and burnt ozone, bitter on the tongue.

  Dozai kept his pace slow, his ears catching the shrill whistle through broken rafters, his nose twitching at the sour tang of rust. His fingers flexed like he was memorizing the air currents, the angles, the distances. A battlefield built to betray you.

  Then... laughter.

  The figure dropped from the tower?like a dead weight?and landed?without a sound. A boy wrapped in bandages scrawled with crude smiley faces, grin twitching, head jerking to one side like a broken marionette.

  “Your last match was?so much fun,” he rasped, voice?a ragged, joyful thing.?“I’m?thrilled.?Let’s break each other!”

  One blink, and he was upright, rolling his shoulder like the fall hadn’t happened at all.

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  Hellick’s voice cut through the wind.

  “Representing Lucious: Hunter Sero Granz”

  A wave of tension went through them.?Nobu stiffened. Rei’s lips parted,?a flicker of panic swiftly suppressed.?Kenny?cursed?under his breath, grip tightening on his pipe until his?knuckles turned white.?Roi squinted, head cocked,?already calculating Sero's weight, height, and reach.

  Dozai didn’t move. His eyes sharpened.

  Rizaru had warned them about a lunatic like this.

  Rank 4 Hunter.

  Sero skipped. His boots clanged against the warped rails in a lopsided rhythm, every step followed by the creak of steel. He was humming, off-key, tuneless, but each sway of his weight landed perfectly in time, like he was dancing to music only he could hear.

  “This is bad,” Dozai muttered. “But we’ve got to make it work. Let’s all just stick togeth—”

  Nobu bolted first—not reckless, but deliberate. Proving he wouldn't fall first this time.

  He swung his blade down at Sero’s shoulder, but with a tilt of Sero's head, the attack was redirected.

  The strike became an upward swipe, snapping Nobu’s wrist against his own momentum.

  “What, didn’t do your homework?” Sero?chuckled, the sound like grinding gravel.?“Or are you just?that eager to lose?”

  Sero’s spin-kick hammered into Nobu’s gut, folding him in half. He went flying toward a jagged beam.

  Kenny was already there, diving in. He caught Nobu midair, arms trembling violently under his weight before both of them staggered back to balance.

  “Gotcha.?You’re good,” Kenny wheezed,?voice rough but steady.

  Nobu coughed, gripping his stomach, but still forced a grin. “He's not as strong as her, but it doesn't matter. He just keeps throwing our attacks back at us.”

  Sero just stood snapping his fingers, head bobbing, shoulders swaying like a man lost in his own twisted tune. “Come on, come ooooooon,” he sang, grin splitting wider. “Let's all dance in blood!”

  Dozai’s teeth clenched. He saw the rhythm, the precision hiding under the madness. If they charged blind, it’d be over in seconds.

  “The old plan is?dead,” Dozai exhaled sharply. “Just buy me time. Keep him busy. I’ll find a new one.” His voice dropped. “It’s going to hurt.”

  He hated himself for asking.

  But Kenny just barked a laugh,?strained but sure.?“Yeah. Don’t sweat it, man. We got this.”

  Roi adjusted her stance,?her eyes never leaving Sero.?“If it means we get to?rip that grin off his face,?I’m in.”

  Rei?tucked a strand of hair behind her ear,?her voice soft but steady. “It’s just like practice.”

  Nobu pushed off Kenny’s arm and nodded once, sharp and certain, blade back in his grip.

  Dozai’s chest tightened. For a second, the ache of guilt twisted into something steadier. Something stronger.

  “Alright,” he said, low, steady, forcing his breath to calm. “Then I’ll find the way. Just hold him off.”

  The four of them moved together, Rei and Kenny breaking left, Roi and Nobu breaking right, closing in like jaws of a trap.

  Dozai stayed behind, pacing, eyes locked on every twitch of Sero’s shoulders, the bounce of his steps, the flick of his eye.

  Calculating. Preparing.

  Kenny charged?like a triggered bomb, no warm-up, just raw,?explosive force. His crowbar arced down toward Sero’s head.

  Sero’s head tilted—barely. The crowbar snapped down into the gravel at Kenny’s feet instead, sparks spitting where steel scraped stone. Sero stepped lightly onto the weapon’s shaft, pinning it like he’d been expecting it all along.

  “Down, boy!” he chirped, eyes wide, grin?threatening to split his face in two.?“You swing like you’re?in love with the dirt!”

  Roi was already moving. She yanked a thin wire tucked along a beam with the practiced coldness of someone who’s slept with gears under her pillow. A steel plate, half-loosed, tore free and fell toward Sero’s skull.

  Sero didn’t so much as glance up.

  His head flicked to the side, the plate’s descent shifted, and it slammed harmlessly a few paces away, dust geysering into the air.

  “Cute trap! Ten out of ten for effort. Zero for results!”

  Kenny barely got his head up before Sero’s boot lashed out, catching him under the chin. Kenny hit the ground on his back, coughing blood through his teeth.

  Rei was already behind Sero.

  She’d grabbed a length of slagged chain that hung from the rafters, heavy, rough, clinking with old oil. She swung it across Sero’s back hoping to unbalance him.

  The chain’s arc?warped?in mid-swing,?curving unnaturally?into the column behind Sero.

  Nobu had to duck under it at the last possible tilt of his knees.

  “Sorr—!” Rei’s voice?broke.

  “Eyes on him!” Nobu snapped, voice?tight with pain but sharp with focus.

  He scooped at the gravel, fingers digging in, and hurled a small fistful straight at Sero’s face.

  Sero blinked once, like a cat batting a fly, he slapped the gravel aside with an open palm. The stones scattered, except for one that clipped Sero’s temple, enough for Nobu to slip in under the distraction, blade slicing for Sero’s ribs.

  The strike connected. Dozai saw the blade bite, only for Nobu to stumble back, his own wrist twisted wrong, the redirection flinging his arm away from the intended line.

  The wound wasn’t in Sero’s side. It was a fresh cut across Nobu’s own forearm.

  “Asshole,” Nobu grunted through clenched teeth. “You redirect the force itself too.”

  Sero clapped once, delighted. “I can do much more than that.” He cocked his head with mock sympathy.

  He spun back into the fight like a dancer off-beat but never off-balance. Every kick, every flick of his heel came at strange, unnatural angles.

  Kenny lunged with a shoulder charge, one hand clutching his ribs—healed, but phantom pain still screaming in his nerves. Mid-rush, Sero's Maho caught him, redirecting his momentum sideways into a steel post.

  Roi set another snare, but her tripline snapped upward and tangled uselessly against a girder instead of Sero’s ankle.

  Nobu hesitated, looking at his healed ankle but still unconsciously trying not to put pressure on it, still remembering the pain of the last fight despite being healed. Sero took that opportunity, slamming his fist into Nobu's shoulder, sending him skidding back.

  Even Rei’s attempts to flank turned against her, trying to focus on the fight but remembering Galvara's lifeless face causing her to stumble with her attacks.

  Sero used everything. He treated opponents like loose parts in a machine.

  It looked erratic, Sero laughing, bouncing on the rails, spinning like a lunatic. But beneath the cackling, Dozai caught it’s subtle precision.

  Dozai still struggled to use his Maho on command, it usually only ignited when his life was in danger. He didn't just force himself to mimic that feeling...

  He remembered the smell of his own burning skin from Galvara's wire, the pop of her neck, and his heart rate spiked for real.

  And for brief moments when fear became genuine, he was using his Maho on command.

  Chest seizing, shoulders tightening,?feigning being cornered.?The world?sharpened to a razor's edge,?his sight narrowing until he could trace the?micro-muscle twitches?that betrayed Sero.

  He watched Sero’s eyes mostly. Under the madness there was a counting... Microshifts of weight, a tiny catch at the left corner of his mouth before every redirection. Each redirection was timed to the fraction of a breath. Each head tilt was exact, not random.

  There was rhythm beneath the madness.

  And the gravel.

  The thing Nobu had thrown hadn’t been redirected. Sero had redirected the chain, the plate, the crowbar, the blow, he’d edited trajectories, impacts, destinations.

  But one small flock of gravel had slipped through unchanged?

  He can’t redirect more than one thing at once... Simultaneously, perhaps? Need more data, but it's something...

  The thought came quick, and stayed long.

  Dozai’s lips parted, breath shallow. He also noted his team's mental state, despite being physically healed. Even he was feeling blisters in his hands from Galvara's fight, knowing damn well he was perfectly healed.

  Dozai closed his eyes briefly, trying to regain focus.

  A single, light tap on his shoulder.

  Dozai turned his head slowly.

  Sero stood there, unmarked, smile stretched too wide, eyes shut in mock serenity.

  I only closed my eyes for a moment and he's already behind me…?!

  Dozai glanced back to the battlefield. His team was already winded, bruised, bleeding, still scrambling to figure out what they could do.

  “You gonna just stand there, leader boy?” Sero asked, voice singsong and sharp. “Or just watch your friends die?”

  Dozai’s heart sank as he felt the crushing pressure bleeding off Sero’s body. He refused to let the fear show, so instead… he smiled. A hollow smile, nervous more than anything. Sweat slid down the bridge of his nose.

  “Well,” Dozai said, voice?deceptively calm,?“If you let me watch a little more…I’ll make it worth your while.”

  Sero’s lids lifted. For the first time, he looked at Dozai directly, grin curling at the edge. A beat of silence stretched, then he patted Dozai’s shoulder like an old friend.

  “Delicious,” he whispered. Then, louder a?sharp, barking laugh.

  “I love when they?try to be clever...” His laughter?vanished.?The last word dropped,?cold and flat as a stone.?“…It makes breaking you more fun...”

  Dozai’s fist clenched until his nails cut skin. He could see the battlefield, the traps Roi had left, the angles Kenny could crash from, the places Sero couldn’t stand without risking collapse.

  He had pieces. He had a pattern.

  If they moved together, forced Sero to tilt for one attack, they could slam another through the gap.

  One thing at a time. Slowly, but surely…