Chapter 85: A Fox In Freefall

A massive spectral form crashed through the ceiling in an explosion of plaster and twisted metal.

The creature writhed like liquid shadow made solid, its translucent body pulsing with sickly green light.

Dozens of writhing tendrils lashed out from its core, each one as thick as a telephone pole and crackling with malevolent energy.

Kane vaulted over an overturned table, grabbing a frozen waiter by the shoulders.

"Move! Get everyone out!"

His voice carried the sharp authority of his Bureau training as he shoved terrified diners toward the emergency exits.

A woman stumbled, her designer heels catching on debris, and Kane caught her elbow.

"Go, go, go!"

The spectral beast’s tendrils smashed through the windows, sending glass shards raining down like deadly confetti.

Kane spun toward Cyrus, who stood motionless in the chaos, crimson eyes fixed on the creature with predatory focus.

"Don’t just stand there—!"

Cyrus’s lips curved into the faintest smirk.

"You seem to be handling evacuation well. I’ll handle this."

While Kane darted between falling debris and panicked civilians, Cyrus stepped forward unhurriedly, like someone walking through his own living room.

The spirit’s attention shifted to Cyrus, sensing the dragon’s power.

One tendril swept across their table, obliterating the chocolate soufflé and sending fine china exploding into deadly shrapnel.

Cyrus suddenly moved with inhuman speed, crimson energy flaring around his hands as he caught a descending tendril.

His grip left scorched handprints on the spirit’s flesh, the creature’s shriek rattling the remaining windows.

Kane’s blood ran cold as he spotted them—three diners crouched behind an overturned table, phones raised and recording.

"Are you insane? Get out of here!"

He lunged toward them, but they scrambled away, still filming.

One man with a silver beard shouted over the chaos, "This is going viral!!"

Behind Kane, Cyrus’s power erupted in a brilliant crimson flare as he grappled with the spirit’s central mass.

His movements were too fluid, too powerful—unmistakably inhuman.

Kane’s mind raced. If footage of Cyrus using dragon magic hit social media, it would shatter the careful illusion spirits maintained. The Bureau would have a nightmare on their hands.

"Delete those videos! Now!"

The woman beside Silver Beard shook her head, eyes glued to her screen. "This is incredible! The world needs to see—"

A tendril whipped toward the recording group.

Kane threw himself between them and the attack, feeling the spectral energy sear across his shoulder as he tackled all three to the ground.

Their phones scattered across the debris-strewn floor.

Kane’s boot connected with the nearest phone, sending it skittering across the marble toward a gaping hole in the floor.

He kicked the second device under a collapsed beam, then crushed the third under his heel.

"Hey!" Silver Beard lunged for his shattered phone. "That was a thousand-dollar—"

"You’ll thank me later."

Kane pulled out his own phone, speed-dialing the Bureau emergency line while another tendril crashed where they’d been standing seconds before.

"This is Agent Ashwood; we got a Code Red at Aurelia Restaurant, downtown. High-level rogue spirit, multiple civilian witnesses."

The dispatcher’s voice crackled through. "Containment team dispatched. ETA: five minutes."

"Make it quick. We’ve got phones recording and a Class A entity going on a full rampage."

Behind him, Cyrus’s crimson fire illuminated the restaurant in hellish light as he wrestled with the spirit’s core. The creature’s shrieks grew more desperate and enraged.

The spirit suddenly contracted, pulling all its tendrils inward like a closing fist.

Then it exploded upward with tremendous force, smashing through the remaining ceiling in a cascade of plaster chunks and twisted beams.

Glass fragments from the skylights above rained down like deadly snow as the creature burst onto the roof.

Cyrus didn’t hesitate.

His legs coiled, and he launched himself straight up, crimson energy wreathing his body as he shattered through the largest skylight.

Kane cursed under his breath, scrambling over debris toward the emergency stairwell.

His shoulder throbbed where the tendril had grazed him, but adrenaline pushed him forward.

The rooftop access door burst open under his shoulder, and Kane stumbled onto the restaurant’s terrace.

The spirit had grown massive, feeding on the terror radiating from the street below.

Its translucent form towered twenty feet high now, tendrils spreading like a grotesque umbrella over the city block.

Sirens wailed in the distance while people fled the sidewalks, their screams only making the creature stronger.

Cyrus stood at the terrace’s edge, crimson fire dancing around his clenched fists.

The dragon’s presence alone should have intimidated the spirit, but instead it seemed to relish the challenge.

"Any bright ideas, or are we winging this?"

Cyrus glanced back, his red eyes glowing like embers.

"We end this before it gets stronger."

Cyrus launched himself at the spirit’s core, crimson fire erupting from his fists in controlled bursts.

Each strike left scorched holes in the creature’s translucent flesh, but the wounds sealed almost instantly.

Kane spotted a shattered champagne bottle, its jagged edges sharp.

Not his preferred weapon, but it would have to do.

He lunged forward, glass crunching under his feet, and snatched up the makeshift blade.

"Kane, stay back!"

Cyrus’s warning came a split second too late.

The spirit’s massive tendril whipped toward Kane with lightning speed, catching him square in the chest.

The impact launched him backward, his feet sliding on loose gravel as the rooftop’s edge rushed toward him.

Kane’s stomach plummeted as his heels hit empty air, the city lights spinning below him in a dizzying kaleidoscope.

Then strong fingers locked around his waist, yanking him back from the precipice.

Cyrus’s arm tightened around him, pulling Kane flush against his chest.

Their faces were inches apart, breath mingling in the space between them.

For a heartbeat, Kane felt completely safe in Cyrus’s iron grip, the dragon’s warmth seeping through his torn shirt.

"This is not the romantic hold I imagined tonight."

Cyrus’s eyes widened a fraction, something unreadable flickering across his features.

The spirit’s enraged shriek shattered the moment.

A massive tendril whistled through the air toward them, crackling with malevolent energy.

Cyrus released Kane instantly, shoving him sideways as crimson fire erupted from his palms.

The dragon’s counterattack met the tendril head-on, but the force of the collision sent a shockwave across the rooftop.

Kane stumbled backward, his feet sliding on the loose gravel and debris again.

His arms windmilled frantically as he fought for balance, but momentum carried him toward the edge.

"Cyrus!"

The city spun beneath him in a whirl of fractured neon as wind roared past his ears.