The stairs descended into darkness, each step taking them deeper beneath the church. Steve's hand traced along the stone wall, feeling his way down. The air grew warmer with every footfall. Then warmer still. At first, there was nothing but bckness above and below. But as they continued downward, Steve noticed a faint glow emanating from beneath—a sliver of amber light bleeding out from under a door at the bottom of the stairwell. With each step, the light grew brighter, pushing back the shadows until Steve could see the outline of the heavy wooden door ahead. By the time they reached the bottom, Steve was sweating. The heat pressed against his skin, thick and oppressive. The light from beneath the door was now a brilliant golden bar, warm and inviting in a way that made Steve's skin crawl. *This isn't normal.* They pushed through the heavy door— And stepped into a bakery. Steve blinked, his mind struggling to reconcile what he was seeing. Long metal tables stretched across the space, dusted with flour. Mixing bowls sat abandoned mid-use, wooden spoons jutting out at odd angles. Rolling pins, cookie sheets, and racks of cooling bread lined the walls. Everything was metal and stone. And against the far wall, four massive commercial ovens radiated warmth that made the air shimmer and dance. Standing in front of those ovens was Brother Marcus , the city's baker. A big man, broad-shouldered, with flour still dusting his apron and forearms. His red hair was pstered to his forehead with sweat, his face flushed from the heat. And tied to a chair in the middle of the room was a boy Steve recognized from the library. Eli. His face was red and tear-streaked, rope binding his wrists and ankles to the metal chair. "Marcus ?" Steve said carefully. "What are you doing?" "Oh! Steve, Hansel." Marcus smiled, genuinely pleased to see them. "You're here for the establishment of the sanctuary?" And Steve's mind raced. *Sanctuary? What sanctuary?* But he forced a smile, nodded quickly. "Yeah, of course. That's exactly why we're here." Marcus 's smile faded. His eyes narrowed, studying Steve's face. The silence stretched for a long, uncomfortable moment. "You're lying," Marcus said softly. "You don't even know what I'm talking about, do you?" Steve's stomach dropped. *Shit.* "I can see it in your eyes," Marcus continued, his voice sad. "You're not part of the truth anymore. You don't believe in the Goddess." His gaze moved to Hansel, then back to Steve. "I don't know what happened to you, Steve. I remember when you used to believe. When you understood what we were building here. But something's changed. Someone got to you." He shook his head slowly. "You're like... like an outsider now. Someone who lost their way, lost their faith." "Marcus , listen to yourself—" "And Hansel." Marcus turned to him, sad. "You're still a believer. I can see it in you. You still have faith. Why are you helping him? Why are you trying to stop this?" Hansel moved slightly to the left, and Steve mirrored him to the right, trying to get closer to Eli without being obvious. "Because whatever this is, it's wrong. Tying up kids? That's not what the Goddess would want." "What kid?" Marcus 's brow furrowed in genuine confusion. Steve stared at him. "The one tied up in the chair right in front of you." Eli let out a sob, his whole body shaking. "Please, I just want to go home. I don't know why he grabbed me, I didn't do anything, please—" Something protective, but questioning flowed through Steve's thoughts. He'd seen Eli at the library and around the city a couple of times since his return. Just a curious kid who seemed to always be around. Steve didn't really know him, but seeing any child terrified and tied up by someone he'd known for years made his blood boil. But Marcus wasn't looking at Eli anymore. His eyes had gone distant, almost rapturous. "Soon the Goddess will have a foothold in this world. Everything is going to be better. Pastor Aldric is doing the right thing. We're so close." "Marcus —" "The sanctuary will be complete, and She will walk among us again. It's beautiful. Can't you feel it? Her glory returning to this world?" Marcus 's hands trembled as he spoke, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. "All the doubt, all the pain. It'll all be fixed. She'll make everything *right* again." Steve exchanged a gnce with Hansel. *He's completely gone. A true believer.* "Why don't we just untie Eli here and—" Steve started, edging another step toward the boy. "Stop right there." Steve froze. Marcus 's voice had dropped, gone hard. "You don't understand!" Marcus 's voice cracked. "The sanctuary needs to be established. The ritual must be completed. I don't want to hurt you—either of you. We've known each other for *years*. But I cannot allow you to stop this. I won't." Marcus raised his hands toward the ovens. And something happened. The oven doors flew open simultaneously with a metallic cng that echoed through the rge room. Fmes erupted outward, not wild and chaotic, but *controlled*—writhing and coiling through the air like living serpents. The fire moved with purpose, streams of orange and red fme flowing around Marcus like an extension of his will. *Oh shit.* The temperature in the room spiked instantly. Steve felt his skin prickle and tighten, the hair on his arms curling from the heat. "Run!" Steve cried out to Hansel, but Marcus was faster. He swept his arm in a wide arc, and a wall of fire erupted between them and Eli, cutting off their path to the boy. The fmes roared upward, licking at the ceiling, forcing Steve and Hansel to stumble backward. "I don't want to do this!" Marcus called over the roar of the fmes. "Please, just leave! Let us finish what we started!" Steve dove behind one of the metal tables, Hansel scrambling to cover beside him. "We're not leaving without the kid!" Steve shouted back. "Then I'm sorry." Marcus thrust his hand forward, and a torrent of fme shot across the room. Steve ducked, feeling the fire pass overhead. The heat was unbearable—his skin felt like it was blistering just from being near it. The metal table above him began to glow faintly, the surface radiating heat down onto him. Hansel grabbed a heavy rolling pin and hurled it at Marcus . The baker didn't even flinch. With a gesture, fmes shot out from the nearest oven, intercepting the rolling pin mid-flight. The wood caught fire instantly, burning away to ash before it could reach him. The metal rod inside it glowed white-hot, then melted into droplets that spattered against the floor. "You can't win this," Marcus said, and he sounded genuinely regretful. "Please. Just go." But they wouldn't do that. Steve shoved a metal table toward Marcus , using it as a shield as he tried to advance. Fire engulfed it immediately, fmes crawling across its surface, the metal groaning and buckling from the heat. Steve had to abandon it, diving to the side as it became too hot to move. Hansel tried to fnk right, moving between the baker's racks and prep stations. Marcus tracked him easily, sending a jet of fme that ignited an entire rack of bread. The smell of burning bread filled the air, acrid and choking. They fought desperately, using everything they could find. Steve threw mixing bowls—they melted in midair. Hansel hurled bags of flour—they exploded into clouds of white that caught fire and burned in brilliant fshes. They tried to use the stone pilrs supporting the ceiling as cover, but Marcus 's fmes wrapped around them, seeking them out. And Marcus wasn't just defending himself. Between controlling the fmes from the ovens, he grabbed whatever was within reach and threw it at them with frightening strength. A cast-iron skillet whistled through the air, forcing Steve to duck. It hit the stone wall behind him with a crack, leaving a visible dent. A kitchen knife embedded itself in the metal prep table next to Hansel's head. A rolling pin caught Steve in the ribs, knocking the wind out of him. A rge ceramic mixing bowl shattered against the floor near Hansel's feet, shards exploding outward like shrapnel. "I don't want to hurt you!" Marcus shouted, even as he sent another wave of fire toward them. "But I *will* protect the sanctuary!" They were losing ground. Badly. Every attack was blocked, countered, overwhelmed by the sheer power Marcus commanded. The fmes from the ovens responded to his every gesture, creating barriers, unching attacks, driving Steve and Hansel back step by step. The room itself was taking damage. A metal table, hurled by the force of the fmes, crashed into the wall to Steve's left. He heard something crack inside the structure—a pipe, maybe. Water began to trickle out, forming a small puddle on the floor. A rge industrial mixer, sent flying by one of Marcus 's fme bsts, smashed into the opposite wall. More water began to seep out, this time more forcefully. The pipes must have been ruptured, Steve realized distantly. But he couldn't worry about that because they were *getting their butts kicked*. A jet of fme caught Steve's forearm. The pain was immediate and agonizing—his skin blistering, the smell of burning flesh filling his nose. He bit back a scream, stumbling backward, cradling his arm. Hansel wasn't faring better. Burns covered his hands where he'd tried to grab something too close to the fmes. His shirt was singed and smoking, small holes burned through the fabric. *We can't win this. We're going to die down here.* They tried to split up, to divide Marcus 's attention. It didn't work. He controlled the fmes from four separate ovens simultaneously, creating an almost impenetrable defense while still managing to throw kitchen implements at them with deadly accuracy. A cookie pan embedded itself in the wall next to Steve's head. A metal whisk, heated to red-hot, grazed Hansel's shoulder, burning through his shirt. More equipment crashed and broke. More pipes burst. Water was spreading across the floor now in earnest, pooling in the low spots, trickling toward the center of the room where the slight slope directed it. Steve's back hit the wall. He had nowhere left to go. Hansel was pinned down behind a prep station, fmes licking at the edges of his cover. Marcus advanced slowly, and as he did, something began to form in his right hand. The fmes coalesced, took shape. A bde of pure fire materialized in his grip—three feet long, burning with intense heat that made the air around it warp and shimmer. The fming sword crackled with power, casting dancing shadows across Marcus 's tear-stained face. "I'm so sorry," Marcus said, his voice breaking. He raised the sword, the bde leaving trails of light in the air. "You were my friends. But I have to make sure the sanctuary is complete. The Goddess needs—She *needs* this. Please understand. Maybe in the next life, you'll see what I see. Maybe you'll understand why this was necessary." He stepped forward, the fming sword raised to strike. *This is it. We're dead.* "Maybe you're the one who's wrong." Marcus paused, turning slightly. "What?" Steve followed his gaze. The chair in the middle of the room was empty. The ropes y on the floor, severed—no, *burned* through at some point during the fight. "Where is he?" Marcus spun in a circle, the fming sword sweeping through the air. "Where did the thing go?" *How did Eli get loose? When did—* Movement at the edge of Steve's vision. Eli had somehow made it around behind Marcus , moving through the chaos of the fight. The boy was at one of the massive ovens, his small hands pressed against the heavy door, trying desperately to push it shut, to cut off Marcus 's power source— "No!" Marcus whirled, spotting him. The baker moved with frightening speed, crossing the distance in three long strides. His left hand shot out and grabbed Eli by the throat, lifting the boy off his feet. The fming sword in his right hand cast flickering light across both their faces. Eli's hands scrabbled at Marcus 's wrist, his face already turning red. "You deception," Marcus snarled, and for the first time, his voice held true anger. "I'm not going to allow you to stop this. The Goddess needs—" "Get away from him!" Hansel appeared from behind the prep station, holding a metal chair he'd grabbed from near the wall. He charged forward, the chair held in front of him like a battering ram. Marcus started to turn, started to raise the fming sword— Hansel smmed into him full force, the chair connecting with Marcus 's chest and shoulder. The impact knocked Marcus backward. His grip on Eli's throat didn't loosen—if anything, it tightened as he tried to keep his bance. The fming sword fred brighter, but he couldn't bring it to bear while falling. His foot came down in the puddle of water that had been spreading across the floor. The redheaded man slipped. Marcus 's eyes went wide. His arm windmilled, the sword dissipating in a shower of sparks as he lost concentration. He was falling backward, still holding Eli by the throat, pulling the boy with him. Straight toward the open oven behind him. Time seemed to slow. Steve lunged forward, reaching out, too far away, too slow— Marcus fell backward into the massive oven, fmes erupting around him. His grip on Eli's throat pulled the boy forward, over the edge, tumbling after him into the inferno. They both disappeared into the fire. "ELI!" Steve screamed. Hansel dropped the chair and sprinted for the oven. He grabbed the door handle and tried to pull it open, tried to reach in— The door wouldn't budge. "No, no, no!" Hansel yanked on the handle with both hands, his burned palms screaming in protest. The door rattled but wouldn't open, as if something were holding it shut from the inside. "Come on, OPEN!" Steve reached him, added his weight to pulling on the door. It wouldn't budge. Through the small gss window in the door, they could see inside. Marcus was on his knees, pounding at the inside of the oven door. His face was twisted with rage and frustration, his mouth open, but his screams were barely heard. His fists pounded against the gss, trying to get out. The fmes around him didn't seem to hurt him at all. He was a fire mage. But something was keeping him trapped inside, holding the door shut against his strength. And Eli—Goddess, Eli was sitting next to him, slumped against the back of the oven. The fmes licked around him, but he looked calm. Then the fmes inside the oven suddenly *changed*. The orange and red fire shifted, transformed, turned into something else entirely. Silver fmes erupted from nowhere, bright and cold-looking despite the obvious heat. They moved differently than normal fire, flowing like liquid mercury, wrapping around both Marcus and Eli. And *that's* when Marcus started screaming. Not yelling. Not shouting in anger. *Screaming* in agony. The silver fmes were hurting him. Burning him in a way his own fire didn't. His thrashing became desperate, panicked, his fists hammering against the door with weakening strikes as the silver fire consumed him. But Eli... Eli still wasn't screaming. The boy sat there, engulfed in the same silver fire that was making Marcus scream in agony. The fmes consumed them both equally, burning through clothes and skin. His eyes were open, staring at nothing. His face was calm. Too calm. His mouth wasn't even open. "Why isn't he screaming?" Hansel whispered, horror thick in his voice. "Steve, the silver fire—it's burning Marcus , it has to be burning Eli too—why isn't he—" Marcus 's movements became weaker, his screams fading. The silver fmes intensified, until they couldn't see anything through the gss window but blinding light. Then, abruptly, it stopped. The fmes vanished. And the oven door swung open by itself, the handle turning without anyone touching it. A wave of heat rushed out, but nothing like before. The interior of the oven was... empty. No bodies. No bones. No charred remains. Just ash. Gray and fine, piled at the bottom of the oven. There was no way to tell which ashes had been Marcus and which had been Eli. "No," Hansel whispered. He fell to his knees in front of the oven, staring at the ashes. "No, no, no—I didn't mean—I was just trying to—" His voice broke. He buried his face in his burned hands. "He was just a kid," Hansel sobbed. "He was just trying to help us and I—I pushed Marcus and they both—Oh God, I killed him. That silver fire burned him and he didn't even scream and I killed him." Steve's throat was tight. His own eyes were burning, though whether from smoke or tears he couldn't tell. The hollow ache in his chest was expanding, threatening to swallow him whole. *A child. Eli. Gone. Burned to nothing but ash because we couldn't handle one man with fire powers.* "Hansel." Steve's voice came out rough. He put his good hand on his friend's shoulder, felt him shaking. "It wasn't—you were trying to help him." "I killed him!" Hansel looked up, his face streaked with tears and soot. "I pushed Marcus and they both fell in and the door wouldn't open and the fire—it burned him just like it burned Marcus and he didn't even scream and I—" He choked on the words. "I couldn't save him. I couldn't save him and it's my fault." Steve wanted to say something comforting. But the words stuck in his throat. Because Eli was dead. And they'd both been there. And nothing he could say would change that. Steve sank down beside Hansel, his burned arm throbbing, his whole body aching. They knelt there together in front of the open oven, watching the ashes scatter and drift in the hot air. Behind them, water continued to drip from the broken pipes. The puddles spread across the floor, reflecting the remaining oven fires like pools of liquid fme. "We have to keep moving," Steve finally said, his voice thick. He didn't want to. He wanted to stay here, wanted to gather the ashes, wanted to do *something* that would make this right. But they couldn't. "We have to stop Aldric," Steve continued, forcing himself to stand. Every muscle protested. His arm felt like it was still on fire. "We can't let Eli's death be for nothing. We can't let Marcus 's—" He stopped. "We have to finish this." Hansel didn't move for a long moment. Then, slowly, he pushed himself to his feet. His hands were shaking. His eyes were red and hollow. "Okay," Hansel whispered. "Okay." They turned away from the oven, starting to leave. Then it happened again. The grid pattern. Covering the bakery walls, everything in the rge room. Then they found themselves standing in front of the basement door.