ITB Chapter 5 The Party

The air was thick with the constant sound of the buzzing of the lights.

Issei trudged forward, every step sinking slightly into the damp, spongy carpet. The backpack he’d picked up earlier bounced faintly against his shoulder, its weight oddly comforting.

Beside him, Yuuka kept a firm grip on her pipe, her eyes flicking constantly from corner to corner. Even though she tried to keep her expression sharp, he could see the exhaustion creeping in. She’d been on edge since the last fight, flinching every time a shadow shifted ever so slightly.

Weiss walked slightly ahead, as though refusing to let either of them think she was lagging behind. Myrtenaster remained unsheathed, glinting faintly under the fluorescent glow. Her chin was tilted upward with that some semblance of pride, but her shoulders were stiff and her movements measured.

The hallway twisted again, bending into an angle that didn’t quite make sense. One side shrank into a narrow crawlspace, then opened back up without warning into a wide chamber that looked like a gutted office floor—yellow walls peeling, lights flickering in sick rhythm, the smell of mildew heavier than before.

“Same old,” Issei muttered, forcing a smirk as he glanced around. “Yellow walls, the creepy buzzing sound and this carpet that smells like moldy socks. Starting to feel like home.”

Weiss shot him a look over her shoulder, deadpan. “If you consider this home, then perhaps you’re more disturbed than I thought.”

Yuuka snorted, covering her mouth to stifle the laugh. “Careful, Weiss, if he starts liking this place, we’ll never get him out.”

“Oi,” Issei grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Don’t joke about that. I’m trying real hard not to think we’re stuck here forever.”

The words hung heavy for a moment.

None of them wanted to voice the fear that maybe, just maybe, there was no way out.

So Weiss broke the silence, her voice sharp but quieter than usual. “Keep your minds focused. If you get lost in your own thoughts, this place will eat you alive.”

Issei glanced at her, and for a brief moment, he saw past the ice in her tone—the worry buried deep in her eyes. She was just as scared as they were.

They kept moving.

—-------------------------------

After what felt like hours, they stumbled into yet another room. This one had random objects scattered about—broken file cabinets, a chair with only three legs, papers fluttering despite there being no breeze.

Issei kicked one of the papers aside. Nothing written on it. Just blank white sheets.

“Creepy,” he muttered. “Like someone set this up just to mess with us.”

Yuuka crouched by the chair, tapping it with her pipe. “Nothing useful. It’s all junk. Who even puts this stuff here?”

“No one,” Weiss said, her voice edged with frustration. “This entire world is nonsense. Stop trying to make sense of it.”

Issei gave a small laugh. “Man, Weiss, you’d hate my room back home. Piles of magazines and tissues everywhere—”

Both girls froze.

Yuuka stared at him, eyes narrowing. “...Magazines and tissues?”

Weiss’s cheeks flushed red, her lips parting in horror. “You can’t possibly mean—”

“Wh-what?!” Issei stammered, waving his arms. “No, no, I didn’t mean—uh, never mind! Forget I said anything!”

Yuuka groaned and rubbed her forehead. “You’re impossible.”

Weiss muttered something about “degenerate” under her breath, but her lips twitched just slightly, betraying the faintest hint of amusement.

For a brief moment, the three of them laughed—quiet, tired, but real. And in this suffocating maze, even a small laugh was a lifeline.

—--------------------------------------

But as the sound faded, the silence returned heavier than before.

Issei adjusted the strap of the backpack again, his expression firming. “Jokes aside… I’m not giving up. No matter how long we walk, no matter how many freaks we fight. We’ll find a way out. We have to.”

Yuuka’s hand tightened around her pipe. She nodded. “Yeah. We’re not dying here.”

Weiss looked at both of them, her prideful mask cracking just slightly. She wanted to scoff, to remind them that determination didn’t guarantee results. But instead, she found herself saying quietly, “Agreed. We’ll find a way. Together.”

The buzzing lights above flickered once, then steadied again.

And the three of them kept walking, their footsteps echoing against the damp carpet as the maze shifted around them.

—---------------------------------------

As Issei, Weiss and Yuuka continued walking through the soggy carpet. Entering various rooms that continued to change in form or size.

The current room they had just entered looked like every other room until it didn’t.

They stepped through and then suddenly stopped as one.

As what appeared was a slide on the bottom of the floor that went straight down. It jutted from a ragged hole in the floor covered in the same type of carpet as the rest, too large, and wide that plunged into a circular mouth of pitch black.

“…What,” Yuuka breathed, voice barely louder than the lights.

Issei leaned down as he tried to see what was below the slide. “Can you see the bottom?”

Yuuka crouched beside him, pipe hooked in her elbow, peering until her bangs brushed the floor. “Nothing. It’s… just dark.”

“Should we go down and see what is below?” Issei curiously asked.

Weiss stayed three paces back, not wanting to be anywhere near the hole. “Absolutely not,” She said, each syllable a clean cut. “We are not dropping ourselves into a hole we can’t see the bottom of.”

Issei straightened, mouth tilting. “It’s the first thing we’ve seen that’s different.”

“Which is precisely why it’s suspicious,” Weiss countered. “We should stick to what we know. This is completely unknown and maybe a trap.”

Yuuka nodded quickly. “I… agree. If we can’t climb back up, that’s it. We’re stuck.”

Issei turned back to the slide, frowning. “What if this is the exit?”

Weiss’s blue eyes flashed. “I will not endanger our lives on a whim because we think novelty is salvation.”

He winced at the sting, but nodded. “Okay. We play it your way. We’ll turn around.” He stooped for the backpack. “And we find another—”

A shadow stepped through the hallway they’d come from.

It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t dramatic. It simply just appeared, a silhouette too dark to male sense of who it was, the darkness made it too hard to see any features. No face, no eyes. Just a looming presence.

Yuuka flinched, reflex jerking her weight backward—her heel slid on the damp carpet. The pipe clanged. She was windmilled.

The world tilted.

Her foot slipped.

“Yuuka!” Issei lunged, hoping to grab her.

Her center of gravity tipped past toward the darkness. She disappeared with a gasp.

Issei didn’t think. He ran and dove, his chest sliding down the carpet, hands reaching into the void. “I’ve got you—!”

His palms closed on her fingers. Momentum seized them both. The world snapped on by as the moved with speed. The slide swallowed them whole.

“Weiss!” Issei’s shout spiraled up to where Weiss was still standing.

Weiss spun toward the doorway, rapier flashing as she prepared for an attack… and found it empty. The dark figure was gone, like a trick the light. The room groaned in the buzz of the fluorescent lights.

She was now alone.

Her insides dropped an inch. ‘No.’ She crossed to the lip, staring into the dark. Issei’s voice was already distant, threads of sound clinging to the curve.

‘Leaving them is not an option.’

She set her jaw. “Damn it.”

Then the heiress jumped down and joined them, swinging her legs forward, and let the nightmare take her.

—-----------------------------

“Yuuka!” Issei shouted over the roar, their hands a burning hinge between them. “Hold on!”

Her answer was a strangled laugh that was mostly panic. “Not letting go! Not letting—!”

The slide twisted hard left. Their shoulders slammed a wall, friction biting. Issei’s left forearm flared hot. He quickly summoned the red glove and shoved it against the carpet and the glove screeched, sparks skittering into the dark like fireflies. The speed bled. Yuuka’s boots found the curve and pressed, slowing more.

Weiss fell in seconds behind, glyphs snapping into place along the chute by instinct—a flash of white sigils that grabbed the slide like brakes. She skidded, teeth bared, then flipped the Dust dial with a practiced flick. A bead of ice rolled from Myrtenaster and dragged a band of frost across the floor. Cold gripped, speed shaved—and still the dark rushed up at her like a mouth.

“Issei! Yuuka!” She called. Her voice turned the curve and reached them like a hand. Relief punctured the panic: ‘They’re alive’

“Weiss?” Yuuka’s reply, breathless. “We’re slowing down! Kinda!”

“Keep going!” Weiss gritted, palm flat to another glyph. “Don’t let the slide toss you!”

The chute banked in a long spiral, then straightened. The air changed—cooler, flavored with dusted sugar and old rubber. The sound shifted, too: the buzz of lights thinning into a distant… jingle?

—-------------------------------------------------------------

They shot from the mouth like bullets.

Issei hit first, shoes punching into something soft that collapsed. He folded around Yuuka, rolling to keep her above him, sliding through a hill of… foam? Balls? The world went polka-dotted and weightless for a heartbeat, then thumped them into stillness.

Weiss burst through a beat later, glyphs flaring to catch her landing. She skimmed the surface and pirouetted to a kneel, blade out, breath sharp in the sweet air.

They were in an indoor playground—or at least something that was supposed to look like one..

A cavernous room stretched beyond the ball pit, ceiling lower than it should be, walls painted with childlike murals that bled at the edges: cake slices with too many candles, cartoon sunflowers with eyelash eyes, a banner drooping from bent tacks: H@ve FÜN! The letters were wrong, the kerning broken. Deflated balloons mummified on strings nested in ceiling corners, their surfaces cracked like old paint. The air reeked of stale frosting and plastic.

The buzz of fluorescents was faint here, replaced by an intermittent ding-ding—a three-note chime that felt like it came from nowhere and everywhere.

Yuuka pushed herself up on her elbows, hair full of red and blue balls, eyes wide, pupils still blown from fear. Then she laughed—shaky, disbelieving. “We… landed. We’re okay.”

Issei spat a ball from his mouth and grinned at her through it. “Told you I had you.” He rolled his shoulder where the gauntlet had bit. The crimson armor flickered, then winked away with a sigh through the skin. “Ow. Okay, maybe the slide had me too.”

Weiss hopped lightly from the pit to the rubber matting, scanning the room with narrow, analytical eyes. “This is worse,” she said, voice low.

Yuuka blinked, sitting up. “Worse than what?”

“Just look at this place, it looks as if a child made this.” Weiss pointed with the tip of Myrtenaster to the far wall. A mural’s smiling cake face had run into a black stain where paint shouldn’t have bled. 

Issei climbed out and offered Yuuka a hand. She took it, and he hauled her up with an easy heave. Her fingers still trembled when she let go. “Thanks,” She murmured, then, quieter, “Again.”

He shrugged like it was nothing, inside, the relief made his knees shake. ‘If I’d been slower…’ He strangled the thought. But he kept smiling.

Weiss stepped between them and the malformed party room, blade angled downward, attention sweeping. “Two doorways,” She reported, nodding, one an archway festooned with paper streamers, the other a staff entrance half-propped with a wedge of foam. “Which one do you think is safer?”

“At this point, who knows, let's just pick one and keep walking.” Yuuka says as she picked up her pipe.

“Do you two hear that creepy chime,” Issei muttered as he heard the jingle above them. He slung the backpack on. “Anyone else smell frosting that’s been in a car trunk for a week?”

Yuuka wrinkled her nose. “I was going to say ‘old candy,’ but… yeah.”

From somewhere unseen, the jingle pinged again: ding-ding… ding—but the last note was slightly off, like a child pressing the wrong key.

Silence pooled after.

Weiss, remembering what Issei did, turned and fixed a glare at Issei. “That was reckless. Again.”

His grin wilted. He rubbed his neck. “I know. But Yuuka fell.”

A muscle in her jaw clicked. She wanted to hold onto the anger—he’d launched into danger without a plan; he’d been right to do it. 

“Next time,” She said, voice softer in spite of herself, “Just think before you jump.”

“I did think.” He said, completely sincere.

“Then articulate better,” She snapped.

Yuuka watched them, something easing in her chest. “I’m glad you both jumped,” She said plainly with relief and that was that.

Issei rolled his shoulders, looked from the streamered arch to the staff door, then back at his friends. “Okay. No more slides unless we vote,” he said. “But since we’re here…”

“We scout,” Weiss agreed. “Quietly. We stick to sight lines. If something moves, we go back the other way.”

Yuuka adjusted her grip on the pipe, aura prickling faintly along the metal like static. “Got it.”

They moved.

Past the sagging banner that whispered when they brushed it. Past a shattered prize counter, its glass dusty and finger-smudged from hands that never touched it. Past party tables frozen mid-celebration, paper plates stacked with plastic cupcakes that looked real until you blinked and saw the seam lines. On one wall, a height chart stretched to the ceiling: You must be this tall to smile—the words scratched into the paint.

Issei swallowed. “Yeah, no, this isn’t ominous at all.”

The chime sounded again, closer this time. Weiss lifted a hand—halt.

They listened.

Something padded across rubber—soft, deliberate, two steps, then a drag. The sound faded. The air cooled a degree.

Yuuka leaned closer to Issei without realizing it. “If it’s another one of those black mass things—”

“Then we do what we’ve been doing,” Issei confidently said. 

Weiss’s voice was a thread. “Eyes up.”

From the staff doorway, a shape leaned—just a sliver—like someone peeking from behind a curtain. The head was round, a party hat toppled sideways. The posture was wrong with a face that looked as if it was painted on.

But then it suddenly withdrew its head.

Issei exhaled. “Somehow I’m starting to hate birthdays now.”

“What do you think that was?” Yuuka questioned.

Weiss didn’t smile. “We move before it decides to make sure we stay here permanently.”

The three backed slowly toward the archway draped in sagging streamers, hearts hammering, breaths shallow. None of them dared to turn away from the staff door. The jingle had gone quiet, but the silence was worse. 

The sagging paper streamers swayed in a draft that hadn’t been there before.

Then, the door creaked wider.

Something moved in the darkness beyond the staff door and emerged.

At first glance, it was humanoid. Tall, smooth, and too slender, its body an uncanny imitation of human shape. Its “skin” was yellow and leathery, blending seamlessly with the stained wallpaper of the previous room. Its lower body ended in a tapered stump, yet it shuffled forward as though legs weren’t necessary.

On its head sat a colorful paper party hat, bent and crumpled. Their arms ended not in hands, but five round suction-cup digits that flexed and clicked against the walls, pulling them forward like grotesque toys. One hand—or what should have been a hand—clutched a balloon that bobbed cheerfully.

And its face—if it could be called that—was a crooked parody of joy. A stretched smile, painted or carved into its smooth surface. Two long, warped ovals where eyes should be. 

“…W-what the fuck?” Yuuka whispered, her voice trembling.

Another stepped through the doorway. And another. The staff room poured them out one by one. Each creature was identical and each one looked wrong.

Dozens of them.

Weiss’s knuckles whitened around Myrtenaster. Her pulse pounded in her ears. ‘They’re not Grimm. They’re not anything I’ve ever seen.’

Each wore the same grotesque parody of joy—a face painted into a warped smiley, the eyes too wide, too stretched, curving up into a look of permanent, mocking cheer.

Yuuka made a strangled noise in her throat. “What the hell are those?”

The things stared for a moment too long, then tilted their heads in unison. One leaned its head unnaturally far to the side, regarding them with curiosity. The balloons bobbed.

Then, without warning, they charged with a loud scream.

“Get ready!” Issei roared, the red glove erupting onto his arm with a sharp crimson glow.

The first Partygoer lunged with surprising speed, its suction-cup fingers snapping open like grasping starfish. Issei slammed his fist into its torso, sending it flying back into two more. The impact crunched bones—or something like bones—and the hat flew off its head like confetti. 

Another then swung its arm. But Issei ducked under the first swing of suctioned arms and drove his fist up into its chest. Bone cracked, yellow flesh rippled—and the thing staggered back, bleeding.

“Wha—?!” Issei’s shock caught in his throat, but there was no time to think. Another came at him, and he twisted, driving his boot into its crooked face. Head shattered.

Yuuka screamed, swinging her pipe in a wide arc. It connected with a Partygoer’s face, the crooked smile cracking with a wet snap. It flew and collapsed against the ball pit edge, twitching before going still. Her breath hitched. ‘It hasn't dissolved. It’s bleeding.’

“Weiss!” Issei barked, ducking under a swipe.

“I see it!” Weiss snapped, spinning Myrtenaster. A glyph shimmered beneath her feet, propelling her forward. She lunged, thrusting her rapier straight into a Partygoer’s chest. It shrieked, high-pitched and warped, before toppling back, black ichor spilling across the rubber floor.

Warm fluid spattered her uniform, and for once, she faltered. ‘They bleed. They actually bleed.’

Her hesitation almost cost her—another lurched at her flank, arms reaching. She spun, blade slicing across its torso. It howled, high-pitched and childish, before toppling.

Another lunged at her side. Weiss pivoted, blade singing as she slashed its balloon—pop!—then cut deep into its torso. The creature folded, blood spattering the mural wall behind it.

“Blood,” Weiss muttered, her voice tight with disbelief. “Why do these things bleed?”

Issei kicked another across the jaw, cracking its painted smile. “Not the time!”

The staff doorway gushed more of them. The air filled with shrieks, the squeak of balloons, the slap of suction cups on the floor. The sound was maddening.

Yuuka jammed her pipe into one’s “mouth,” shoving it back before wrenching the weapon free. Her hands trembled, but her eyes burned with adrenaline. “Why won’t they stop?!”

Yuuka, holding the pipe clenching it in both hands, swung hard at the one that came too close to Issei’s back. The Partygoer screeched, its face-plate smile cracking wider, but Yuuka didn’t stop—she raised the pipe again and again, striking until its head caved in.

Issei planted his boots, his gauntlet glowing brighter with each punch. “Then we don’t stop either!” His fist shattered another’s head, blood spraying across his uniform.

Weiss fought with precision, each strike a master’s thrust, every glyph placed for maximum speed. She skewered one through the chest, then flicked the blade free with aristocratic efficiency. But her mind raced. ‘These aren’t like Grimm. Flesh and blood, yet nothing human. What are they?!’

Another tried to flank her—Yuuka smashed its arm with the pipe, breaking the suction cups before Issei finished it with a kick that snapped its torso in half.

The floor was slick now, painted with blood. Balloons deflated with every pop. The smell of iron filled the party room, thick and heavy.

The Partygoers didn’t stop. They piled forward, clambering over their fallen like children rushing a game. The walls echoed with their squeals and the ding-ding of that broken jingle, now playing louder, faster, as if celebrating the chaos.

Weiss’s heart hammered as her Aura flared. “There’s too many—!”

Issei clenched his glowing fist, teeth grit as he got ready for the next wave.

Yuuka’s Aura shimmered faintly around her pipe, lending her swing more force than her body alone could muster. She slammed it into another chest, sending the creature stumbling into Weiss’s blade.

Weiss’s precise strikes cut through them with cold grace, each stab and slash efficient, but her heart twisted with every scream they made. They sounded wrong, like laughter strangled into shrieks.

And Issei cracked ribs, shattered faces, caved torsos. He moved with reckless abandon, every blow driven by instinct and the need to shield the two girls at his sides.

The battle raged on, the three of them a fragile triangle of defiance against an endless tide of crooked smiles.

And as Weiss skewered another and watched it collapse in a pool of blood that did not vanish, one thought cut through her terror, chilling her to the bone. “Are these things alive?”

Issei’s fist broke another crooked smile in half, red blood spraying across his cheek, but even as the Partygoer dropped, three more shuffled in through the staff door.

Weiss’s breath came sharp and shallow. Her rapier flickered, Myrtenaster thrusting through a chest, slicing across another’s arm—but the corpses piled high around her boots, slowing her footwork. The reek of blood was suffocating. Worse than Grimm, worse than anything she’d trained for.

Yuuka swung her crowbar desperately, smashing one of the yellow creatures in the head, but its dying shriek broke her composure. “They talk! I heard it—I swear it whispered—”

Another lunged at her, arms outstretched. Issei tackled it away, punching until the skull caved in. He turned, gauntlet glowing, shouting over the noise. “Don’t listen to them! Just fight!”

But it was impossible not to.

The Partygoers’ voices were wrong. Too human, too playful, echoing in cracked falsettos:

“Stay! Stay with us!”

“Join the party!”

“Don’t be sad anymore—we’ll make you smile!”

The words wormed into their minds, slipping past reason. Weiss felt her grip falter for half a heartbeat, bile rising in her throat. She slashed harder to silence it, but the echoes lingered.

No. I won’t break. I can’t.

Issei gritted his teeth, ignoring the sting in his knuckles. They’re just monsters. Just monsters.

Yuuka stumbled, her Aura flickering weakly. A claw grazed her arm, blood spraying. She screamed, but swung anyway, smashing the crowbar down.

They were being overwhelmed. Corpses littered the playroom, their yellow leathery skin glistening with blood, party hats crushed underfoot, balloons smeared across the rubber in wet streaks of color. The smell of iron, plastic, and something sweet-and-rotten filled the air, clinging to their throats until it burned to breathe.

But still the Partygoers came.

Tall, warped silhouettes poured from the staff door, their suction-cup fingers slapping the floor, balloons bouncing, crooked smiles leering.

Issei’s fist caved in another chest, blood spraying across his uniform. His red glove pulsed hot against his skin, his arm aching from the constant impacts. “Why—won’t—they—stop?!”

One grabbed his shoulder, suction cups sticking like glue. He snarled, twisting, slamming his fist into its painted face until it split open, tearing free with a spray of gore. His body hurt, lungs burning, but his heart screamed louder. ‘I can’t let them touch Weiss or Yuuka.’

Yuuka screamed, swinging her crowbar down into a Partygoer’s skull. The thing shrieked—not just a sound, but words.

“STAY. STAY. FUN. FUN. FOREVER.”

The voice was warped, too high, too cheerful, like a child singing through broken speakers.

Yuuka froze for a fraction of a second before another lunged for her back.

Issei caught it with a kick, gritting his teeth. “Don’t listen! Just kill ‘em!”

Weiss’s rapier darted and stabbed, Myrtenaster’s blade slicing through another’s neck. It dropped, twitching, but even on the ground it whispered in that horrible sing-song tone.

“NO. SAD. NO LEAVE.”

Her Aura flared as she spun, glyphs flickering, but the voices crawled under her skin. Her hands shook even as she killed each one of these strange creatures.

“They’re overwhelming us!” Weiss snapped, slicing through another with precision. Its death was drowned by laughter. Laughter. The things were laughing now, warped and broken.

“Then we move!” Issei shouted, blocking a swipe with his glove. The impact rattled his bones, but he forced a grin for their sake. “Better to run than die in a ball pit!”

Yuuka’s breathing was ragged, arms sore, but she nodded. “Fine by me!”

The three retreated, slashing and punching as they went, until their backs hit the sagging paper streamers. They tore through them, the archway ripping with a hiss of dust and old glue.

The Partygoers shrieked behind them, their distorted chants following:

“NO. NO. NO. COME BACK. PARTY. PARTY!”

The sugar-rot smell vanished. The warped murals, the broken chime—all gone. The air grew dry and heavy again. The lights buzzed in a familiar rhythm.

They stumbled out into the yellow walls. The damp carpet. The endless hum.

Yuuka nearly sobbed as she ran. “Oh thank God—it’s back! It’s back to normal!”

Weiss whipped her head toward her, fury sparking in her exhausted eyes. “Do you hear yourself?! You’re grateful to be back in this prison?!”

Yuuka stumbled for words, her crowbar still clutched in her slick hands. “It’s—It’s better than—than that!”

She wasn’t wrong.

Issei wiped blood from his jaw, his fist clenching as Twice Critical dimmed. “Doesn’t matter what we prefer—we’ve gotta keep moving.”

Behind them, the Partygoers screeched and slammed against the archway, spilling through like spilled paint across the carpet. Their laughter warbled down the halls, echoing, chasing.

“They’re not stopping,” Weiss breathed.

The yellow-skinned things were following.

“Run!” Issei barked, pulling Yuuka along as they bolted down the corridor. Weiss sprinted close behind, her blade still dripping.

Their footsteps pounded the carpet. The lights buzzed overhead, flickering in time with their hearts.

The yellow halls stretched endlessly ahead, twisting, turning. But they didn’t dare stop.

Because behind them—the party wasn’t over.

—------------------------------

The yellow halls stretched on and on, buzzing and twisting.

Their footsteps thundered against the damp carpet, breaths ragged, lungs burning. The air was heavy with mildew and fear.

Issei ran ahead, dragging the scavenged backpack against his back, his eyes darting between corners. Weiss and Yuuka kept close, their weapons clenched in trembling hands, their bodies crying for rest.

Weiss’s hair sticks to her damp cheeks, every inhale sharp. Yuuka’s arms shook as she clung to her pipe, her legs threatening to buckle. Their feet screamed from the endless pounding against wet, uneven ground.

But there was no stopping. Not when the shrieks echoed behind them.

The Partygoers were gaining.

Their laughter, their playful cries, their warped voices calling out — “Stay! Stay with us! Don’t leave the fun!” — crawled across the walls and into their minds.

“Faster!” Issei barked, though he knew they were already at their limit. His chest heaved, but his instincts screamed louder than his body. ‘Don’t stop. Don’t let them catch us.’

But then it happened.

The carpet beneath Weiss’s boots squelched, soggy with unseen moisture. Her foot slid. Her balance broke.

With a startled gasp, she fell.

Her rapier clattered against the wall, her palms smacking against the wet floor. Weiss gritted her teeth, pushing to rise—her pride refusing to let her falter—but pain lanced up her ankle, and her body betrayed her with a sluggish response.

The shrieks behind them grew sharper.

Issei’s head snapped back and his heart plummeted.

Weiss was down. Behind her, a cluster of Partygoers shuffled closer, their suction-cup hands outstretched. Their crooked smiles widened. They were seconds away from reaching her.

“Weiss!”

The sight crushed him. He pushed harder, but his legs weren’t fast enough. He could see it in the fractions of a second between strides. ‘I won’t make it. I can’t reach her in time.’

“No… no, no, NO!” His voice cracked with desperation.

Something inside him howled.

A raw, primal need.

Not lust. Not greed. Not even selfishness.

Just a desperate, overwhelming desire. ‘I have to save her. I have to protect them. Give me power. Please.’

Inside him, something stirred.

The red glove on his arm flared, brighter than ever. The familiar shape shivered, cracked, and grew, expanding across his forearm. The red light consumed him, the glow so strong it painted the walls red.

[BOOST!]

The word roared in his skull.

The glove reformed into a gauntlet, the armor thickening and extending past his wrist, plates layering up to his elbow. The claw-like fingers clamped tighter, veins of red energy pulsing beneath the surface. The weight of it was immense, but it felt natural.

And then the power surged throughout his body.

Power doubled. Speed doubled. His muscles screamed, not from pain, but from sheer excess of strength. The world blurred as if space itself bent around him.

“—Weiss!”

In a blink, he was there.

The Partygoers reached, but he was faster. His arms scooped Weiss from the ground, lifting her against his chest. Her breath caught, her eyes wide in disbelief as the shrieks passed by just behind where she’d fallen.

And in the next instant, Issei was gone again.

The walls blurred, the carpet vanished beneath his boots. He reappeared at Yuuka’s side, his gauntlet still burning with crimson light. He set Weiss down gently beside her, his chest heaving with power and adrenaline.

Weiss blinked, her pale face flushed, still shaken from the fall. Her lips parted, but no words came.

Yuuka stared at him, wide-eyed, clutching her pipe with trembling hands. “I-Issei… what… what was that?!”

Issei didn’t answer. Not yet. His heart was still hammering, the echoes of that Boost reverberating in his bones. He looked down at his transformed gauntlet, the glow pulsing like a heartbeat.

“…I don’t know,” He admitted, his voice low but steady. His eyes flicked to Weiss, to Yuuka. “But if it means I can protect you both… then I’ll use it.”

The Partygoers shrieked again, their chorus rattling through the halls. They were still coming.

But this time, Issei felt no helplessness. This time, he was ready.

The corridor shook with the thunder of footsteps.

The Partygoers poured forward in a stampede, their crooked smiles stretching wider, their suction-cup hands slapping against the yellow walls as they surged toward their prey. The buzzing lights above flickered with the force of their numbers.

Issei planted himself between the tide and the girls. His breath came sharp, his gauntleted arm humming with a crimson glow that pulsed in time with his racing heart.

Then it came.

[BOOST!]

The gauntlet screamed the word into the air, vibrating through his bones.

Power surged again, flooding every muscle with unnatural strength. His veins burned. His nerves screamed. His skin felt too tight for the body beneath it. The gauntlet had given him what he’d wished for—speed, strength, the ability to protect—but now his flesh protested violently.

Issei staggered, teeth grinding, every nerve on fire. ‘Damn it…! My body… can’t keep up!’

The Partygoers shrieked, closing in.

Weiss raised her blade, Yuuka her pipe—but before either could move, Issei moved and charged.

The air cracked as he vanished into a blur.

To the girls, it was as though reality split.

One heartbeat he was in front of them. The next, the hallway erupted in chaos.

The red blur tore into the horde, gauntlet glowing like a crimson star. A Partygoer swung its warped arm—Issei’s fist caved its torso in before it finished the motion. Another leapt but Issei smashed it into the wall so hard the plaster cracked, its crooked smile painted across the stain of its blood.

Each movement was violent and unstoppable. The creatures fell like paper dolls shredded by a hurricane. The air filled with their shrieks, the sickly sweet smell of their flesh splitting, the wet crunch of bones breaking.

Weiss and Yuuka stood frozen, their weapons half-raised, staring wide-eyed at the storm of violence.

‘He became faster than me,’ Weiss realized, her stomach twisting. ‘He’s faster than any Huntsman I have ever met.’

Yuuka’s throat tightened as she watched. ‘This isn’t human. This is—’

Issei tore through the last of them, the gauntlet’s glow leaving streaks of red light on the walls as he carved his way forward.

When it ended, the silence fell heavy.

The carpet was drowned in gore. Corpses of yellow leather and cracked smiles piled high, their balloons deflated, their blood seeping into the already damp ground.

And at the far end of the hallway, standing with his back to them, chest heaving, was Issei Hyoudou.

He scanned the darkness for any stragglers, fists clenched, every muscle quivering from exertion. For a moment, he was a figure of raw defiance, the red gauntlet gleaming like a beacon in a nightmare.

Then his shoulders sagged.

He exhaled sharply, relief and exhaustion colliding.

[RESET!]

The gauntlet’s voice rang like a judge’s gavel.

The glow vanished. The red plates retract and disappear into his skin. In an instant, all the power drained away, leaving only trembling muscle and frayed nerves.

Pain stabbed through him. His body convulsed.

“Ghhk—” He dropped to one knee, then collapsed fully to the carpet, his breath rasping. His arms twitched uncontrollably as his body screamed from the backlash.

“Issei!” Yuuka’s cry cracked as she sprinted forward, stumbling over corpses, ignoring the slick blood that coated her shoes.

“Weiss—help me!” She begged.

Weiss didn’t hesitate. Her boots splashed through gore as she knelt beside them, Myrtenaster clattering to the ground. Together, they turned him onto his side.

Issei groaned, eyes half-lidded, sweat plastering his hair to his forehead. His chest rose and fell in shallow bursts, his gauntleted arm twitching as if it still remembered the power that had just abandoned it.

“Fool,” Weiss hissed, her voice trembling though she tried to hide it. She saw his body convulsing and twitching from the strain. She then pressed a hand to his shoulder, eyes darting over him. She instantly knew what Issei did. “You nearly tore yourself apart!”

Yuuka clutched his other arm, her eyes wide and wet. “He saved us… He always saves us. But look at him—he’s breaking himself!”

Issei forced a weak laugh, his voice hoarse. “Heh… worth it… as long as you’re safe.”

Weiss’s lips parted, but no words came. For a moment, her pride, her fear, her anger—all tangled in her chest.

Yuuka shook her head, tightening her grip on him. “Don’t say things like that. Don’t… don’t throw yourself away for us.”

His eyes fluttered closed, his breathing slowing, but his mouth curved into a faint smile. “I’m not… throwing myself away. I’m fighting… because I have something to fight for.”

The two girls held him there, surrounded by corpses, the buzzing lights flickering above them like mocking applause.

And for the first time since entering this hell, Weiss and Yuuka realized that Issei Hyoudou’s dream of protecting his “family” wasn’t just words.

Finally done. Tell me what you think and if I made any mistakes. What do you think of these new enemies? Do you think it took too long for Issei to gain the actual Boosted Gear? What do you think will happen next?