Aliquam: Academy of the Arts: Northern Sector: Outer Theatrical Hall“Uhn… what… hit… me…?”
Propped against one of the Academy’s Northern sector’s corridor walls, Estelle’s eyelids fluttered open with dark spots in her eyes as she awoke to a dull, aching pain shooting through her head. She instantly recalled what had happened to her, her failed attempt to attack the giant Mattis resulting in the accidental smack by Moira’s fist. Dull agony washed over her, and she rolled her head from side to side, hoping to part the spots away and find where the others were. The pain wasn’t as pronounced as it had been before, thanks to Amy’s healing before she departed for the Theatre Hall, but her whole body still hurt, and she couldn’t bring herself to move, no matter what.
She saw Moira and Syed to the side, pinned down by Mattis, and groaned. Lute shouted out to their side, hoping to draw the thief’s attention away from the downed pair, and aimed instead towards him, his sword raised in a defensive stance. Out of the entire corridor group, he was the only one left.
Damnit Moira, Estelle’s mind groaned.
Why the hell are you so strong?“Get your hands off her!” Lute hollered, “Haven’t you had enough!? I’m not afraid of you!”
And then the doors to the Theatre Hall, situated in-between where Lute and Estelle lay on one side, and Moira, Syed and Mattis on the other, exploded outwards in a shower of fragments.
Aliquam: Academy of the Arts: Northern Sector: Theatre HallThe battle within between the Masked Phantom and the Pride was starting to take its toll, as the aristocratic dressed thief drew his full might and mastery of the wind to assail everyone inside, and leave no one unaffected by his calamitous hurricane. Whilst the ripped apart chairs, lights, flooring and other fixtures revolved around him and were sent hurtling out with frightening accuracy towards the Guilders, even his companions in Jay, Francesca and Fabian found it difficult to not be bowled over to the ground by the whipping wind.
None of them had ever seen the Masked Phantom enraged like this before. Normally, he was the cool and confident, expert thief they had always known and taken part on missions with- the man whom, once making a mark, always pulled through in achieving his goal and making away with his target steal. No other job before this had required this much effort or difficulty… and no other job had prompted a reaction quite like this from their leader before.
No other job had them facing the Pride.
“Nngh…” Dalia huddled as best she could behind one of the chairs, wrapping her body as small and tightly as she could, holding the detonator close to her chest. She had managed to stop him from making good on his threat to use their planted explosives throughout her Academy, but she couldn’t help but sit there in fright that the Masked Phantom just might destroy the entire Academy anyway. The way the winds whipped about the Masked Phantom the way he did also helped to serve as a shield… it was a perfect offence and defence. Oh Aislin, how could they prevail?
And stalking dangerously close to her… only a few scant rows away… was him… Jay, intending on taking back their detonator…
“Oh jiminy creepers, why did I leave the dorm?” Simon wailed to himself across the other side, poking his head up gingerly to look about the chaos enveloped performance hall. A piece of wood whipped around and smacked him in the head.
“Fabian! Please, please leave this place! Mattis, are you there? Can you hear me?” Francesca’s voice screeched into the young thief’s ear, as he hip hopped away from his slap fight with Trixie thanks to the pull of the wind around him.
"I'm still outside," Mattis growled unhappily from outside, his eyes transfixed on the devastated doors and upon Lute whom he knew glowered at him from within the darkness.
"Fabi, listen to Fran. Get somewhere safe."The young thief frowned. He had done a lot of running away already, and losing of fights, and he didn’t like it. Cussing cuss, the Masked Phantom wouldn’t be happy…! But… but he was also being really scary right now. Looking far down the Hall, at the stage below, illuminated by the whipping of flares circling around him… the Masked Phantom didn’t look altogether there. He looked… frightening. Should he run? Could he? But what about the others? He couldn’t just abandon them, could he? Could-
“You, brat,” An angry voice spat from behind him, and Fabian was suddenly yanked up into the air by the back of his collar. He thrashed about to no avail. “Maybe having you captured will stop that bitch and repulsive man you look up to.” Tobias glared at the young child, his knife shimmering in his hand. He wouldn’t actually hurt a child… even Tobias had his limits. But holding Fabian hostage sure seemed like a good idea to him.
It was too bad that the sheer ferocity of the winds about them and their deafening roar made it impossible for anyone to say or shout something and be heard. Impossible for anyone, except…
The Masked Phantom, whose roaring voice was carried across the wind like a vengeful god.
“WELL, IGNORANT CLODS?” The Masked Phantom spat.
“IS THIS NOT ENOUGH? NOT ENOUGH TO MAKE YOU PEASANTS UNDERSTAND WHAT IS HAPPENING? YOU CANNOT STOP US. CANNOT OVERCOME US!!”“I HAVE HELD BACK UP UNTIL NOW… I DIDN’T WANT TO TAKE ANYONE’S LIFE. BUT ENOUGH IS ENOUGH! GIVE UP AND LEAVE, OR I’LL DESTROY EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU!!”“Enough,” Marcus, who stood before him, sighed. He waved his hand in the air, and the raging winds subsided instantaneously. Objects that were being carried by the hurricane’s winds collapsed to the grounds with a clatter. The Masked Phantom recoiled, taken aback in sheer surprise and disbelief at such an action. It was impossible. His magic, his power, his control of the winds… it was too skilled, too precise, for this to happen… with a wave of his hand, he… how…?
Marcus shook his head from side to side, turning and walking away from the thief. “You’ve caused nothing but trouble for my friends and their home. And for what? Absolutely nothing. Stealing the Academy itself… are you an idiot or what?”
The Masked Phantom snapped, rushing forwards, charging at Marcus’ exposed back-
And the ground between them shone with a bright white glow, a magical circle forming in the space between them with an ethereal light, one matched by the crouching Matter Artist ahead.
Dylan’s chalk finished scraping along the floor, and his other hand was placed firmly upon the ground itself. This wasn’t easy… in fact it was so much harder then it was when he used his slate… but Dylan now realised, after trying and concentrating very hard… that it was possible. He could still use his magic.
And this was the last shot.
A large mass grew out from within the circle, growing and taking shape at an angle aimed directly at the Masked Phantom. His eyes widened in staggered surprise at the growing object, that quickly took shape as a giant, statue fist, before he was slammed full force by it in the gut, and pushed backwards by the still growing and growing summon. Everyone inside the theatre hall watched in stunned silence, their mouths left agape.
The giant stone fist crashed against the stage’s far wall, with the Masked Phantom in-between them, and powered straight through, breaking out onto the northern grounds beyond. The Masked Phantom’s body dropped from the statue as it slowly came to a final stop and dissipation, the thief’s unconscious body collapsing onto the courtyard gardens outside.
Light from the full moon hanging above outside shone through the giant hole left through the Academy wall, bathing the rest of the Theatre Hall and its occupants with visibility.
Dylan, still crouched, huffed and puffed with his rising and falling chest, sweat dripping from his body. He looked on at the hole he had made, and the man he had defeated, and he grinned before collapsing forwards himself besides Lucien, his magical stamina completely exhausted.
“Have that, you son of a bitch.”