The Adulterous Switcher-Chapter 38: A Strange Form

"Trey, where are you headed?"

Monet's voice cut through the tension, steady and calm. She stood just behind him, one hand gently gripping his wrist as he reached for the doorknob.

"I'm going to deal with that bastard Bones!!"

Trey's voice shook with rage, his eyes narrowed with fury.

Monet looked into his face and slowly released his hand. "Go!!"

Trey blinked. "What?!... I thought you were gonna tell me to not do it."

"Bones is the reason we're in this mess. Go over there and give him hell," she said, her voice hardened with conviction. "Oh, and don't worry about us here. I'm here to protect them."

She held his gaze, her eyes unflinching—burning with fierce resolve. The quiet confidence in her tone sent a wave of energy through Trey's chest. His posture straightened, the anger in his heart tempered by the trust in her voice.

Trey's eyes beamed with hope as he broke into a smile. "You got it, Monet!!"

"Trey, the keys!!"

Drake's voice rang out from across the hall, and he tossed a set of car keys across the room. Trey snatched them out of the air with a quick reflex.

"I'll be back!!"

Without wasting another second, he burst out the front door, sprinting to the driveway. He slid into the driver's seat of the convertible, slammed the door shut, and turned the ignition.

"You're gonna pay, Bones!!... You're gonna pay," Trey growled, gripping the steering wheel as he sped off from the mansion, tires squealing against the pavement.

Meanwhile

The sky glowed with dusk's fading light, casting orange across the broken skyline. In the center of the ruined cityscape, Rafik hovered mid-air on an ice platform, his breath slow and measured. Dawn charged toward him, using flames from his hands to stay aloft.

Without warning, Dawn launched a powerful left hook toward Rafik's face, his fist engulfed in fire. But Rafik slid away on a rail of ice, his movement sleek and sharp like a skater gliding through battle.

Rafik retaliated instantly, sending a volley of razor-like ice shards toward Dawn.

"The same old party trick again and again. Get original, Rafik!!" Dawn snarled, twisting mid-air to dodge the projectiles. He swung a leg out in retaliation, landing a clean kick to Rafik's side.

Rafik tumbled off his ice slide, crashing downward. The platform crumbled behind him. He slammed into the next layer of frozen construct but quickly regained balance. Blood traced the edge of his lip. He wiped it away with the back of his hand.

"You know, I'm getting really tired of this!!" Rafik growled, rising back to full height.

"All mouth, no talk!!" Dawn sneered, hurling himself through the smoke with reckless speed.

"Are you sure?" Rafik asked, his voice low and certain.

Standing tall atop the broken remains of the slide, Rafik exhaled—and the temperature dropped. The air around them grew dense with cold, the moisture freezing into a swirling fog. Sublimation. The vapor wrapped around Dawn like a misty curtain, clouding his view.

Dawn raised an arm to swat the haze away—but then froze.

His eyes widened.

Before him, Rafik began to change.

From the heart of the mist, ice began to snake around Rafik's limbs, crawling upward like a living force. A gladiator's helmet formed around his head—crafted entirely of clear, gleaming ice, etched with frost lines like battle scars. Knee pads extended into thick boots covering his legs. Twin swords emerged from his gauntlets, the blades shimmering with crystallized runes. Heavy plating wrapped around his chest and shoulders, glowing softly with glowing symbols. From his back, a rigid cross of ice extended skyward, and wings unfolded—massive, jagged, beautiful—each feathered shard poised to strike.

Rafik hovered silently, encased in the new form, armor humming with power.

"What is this form!!" Dawn whispered aloud, a sliver of dread curling in his chest.

"Do you really think that wou—"

Dawn's sentence was cut off as a sudden slash tore across his cheek.

He reeled back, clutching the gash in shock.

"How?... When!!... If I was late in dodging that, I'll be dead."

Blood trickled from the wound, his eyes darting to Rafik, who now floated just ahead with his blades lowered, his expression unreadable behind the helmet.

"This is it, Dawn... it's over."

Rafik's voice rang out from within the ice helm, calm but full of finality.

For a moment, there was silence—nothing but the low hiss of evaporating mist.

Dawn gritted his teeth, wiping the blood from his cheek. "No. Not yet."

With a roar, he surged upward, flames pouring from his palms. The sky lit up as he launched himself into the air, fists clenched, rage-fueled. The fire around him coiled like a serpent, snapping in protest as he flung himself toward Rafik once more.

But Rafik didn't flinch. He shot upward, wings of ice carrying him high into the air to meet the oncoming threat.

Two forces—flame and frost—collided with explosive force above the skyline, shaking the nearby ruins as the final phase of their battle began.