No matter how many times they struck, the Jesters wouldn't take damage. Nely's rapid attacks, Atlas' brute force, Ned's precise strikes, none of it mattered. Every hit landed, but nothing stuck. The Jesters twisted their bodies unnaturally, bending, snapping, reforming as if reality itself refused to let them be harmed.
Nely gritted her teeth, leaping back as the Grinning Jester swiped at her with a monstrous claw, its fingers stretching like tendrils of flesh.
"Damn it! Why won't they die?!" she yelled, barely dodging another strike.
Atlas' gaze locked onto the one who stood untouched, the Card Jester. He was the center. The others, as terrifying as they were, were just his game pieces.
The three of them moved together, pushing forward with everything they had. Nely dashed low, sweeping her legs in an attempt to break Card Jester's balance. Ned went high, trying to strike him with a blade of pure Neba. Atlas charged dead center, fist pulled back for a devastating blow.
But the moment they got close, the other four Jesters reacted at once.
The One-Eyed Jester flickered, appearing between them, forcing them to avert their gazes or risk blindness. The Long-Legged Jester weaved through them, striking at their legs, making them stumble.
Then a crushing force sent them flying back. Ned, Nely, and Atlas barely had time to react before they were hurled through the air like ragdolls, their bodies colliding against the twisted walls of the nightmarish dimension.
Pain shot through them, knocking the breath from their lungs, but they had no time to recover, the Jesters were already moving.
The Jesters moved for the final blow, their grins widening. Atlas struggled to move, Ned and Nely braced for impact, their eyes darting for an escape that didn't exist.
Then, from above, something dropped.
A shadow blurred through the air, moving faster than their eyes could follow, a streak of force and power that cut through the suffocating presence of the Jesters like a blade. Before any of them could process what was happening, the Card Jester's laughter was abruptly silenced.
It was Dune.
With both legs extended, he crashed down onto the Card Jester's skull with an impact that shattered the air itself. The sound of bone splintering echoed through the void, the weight of his double-kick driving through the creature's head with enough force to crack it apart like brittle stone.
The Jester's entire body twisted and imploded, its grotesque form collapsing inward as the once-powerful entity was reduced to nothing.
A ripple shot through the space around them, reality itself trembling. For a moment, everything seemed to freeze. Then, with a sound like breaking glass, the entire dimension shattered.
A violent snap echoed in the air, and suddenly. They were falling.
Jesters' domain collapsed into nothingness, leaving them free-falling toward the black, toxic water below. The inky surface surged closer, an inevitable death sentence waiting to consume them.
Nely's breath hitched, panic clawing at her throat, but her body moved on instinct. With a desperate flick of her wrist, her Neba surged outward, solidifying into a boat beneath them just in time. They crashed onto it, their bodies skidding across the surface as the last remnants of their prison shattered into oblivion.
Dune landed hard. The impact jolted through his body, and for a moment, he didn't move.
Nely was over him in an instant. "Dune!" Her voice cracked, raw with something she couldn't control. Her hands, glowing with her Neba, pressed against his chest, pushing her energy into his body. "Come on, come on, take it, why isn't it working?!"
Panic surged through her, the cold weight of dread pressing against her ribs like a vice.
Ned was already beside her, his own hands moving with precision, his Neba flowing into Dune's wound. "Let me—" He poured everything into it, trying to mend the damage.
And yet, nothing. Nely's breath stilled.
"What? what's happening?" she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of the lapping water. Dune lay there, unmoving. His breath was gone. A second passed. Then another.
Her vision blurred, her fingers pressing harder against his wound as if sheer willpower alone could keep him here. No. No, this couldn't be happening.
"Dune," she whispered, her voice cracking, barely a breath. "Please… not again."
Her hands trembled violently. She could feel it happening all over again, that same unbearable emptiness, that same helplessness that had swallowed her whole when she had lost her sister, Lucas and now… She had sworn she wouldn't let it happen again. But here she was, watching another person fade before her eyes, unable to do anything.
"Wake up," she choked out. "Dune, wake up!"
Atlas hovered nearby, fists clenched at his sides. He wasn't a healer. He couldn't help. He could only watch.
Ned's teeth ground together. His breathing was heavy, his hands shaking as his own Neba failed him. "This doesn't make any sense!" His voice snapped, raw and desperate. "He should be healing, why the hell isn't he healing?!"
But then, just as the last sliver of hope seemed to crumble, a sudden, ragged gasp tore through the air. Dune's body lurched as his lungs sucked in breath, his entire form convulsing as he coughed violently. Blood splattered against the wooden surface of the boat.
Nely choked on a breath, her vision blurring as relief hit her like a crashing wave.
"Dune, Dune, look at me—" Her hands cradled his face, her fingers desperate to feel something, to confirm he was really still there.
Dune's eyelids fluttered, his body still trembling from whatever the hell had just happened. Slowly, his shaking fingers reached for his wound, and this time, at last, it began to heal.
The three of them exchanged looks, their expressions tight, filled with a thousand unspoken thoughts.
Ned was still breathing hard, his chest rising and falling as he tried to push down the anger, the helplessness, the sheer frustration of not knowing. His voice was careful when he finally spoke, edged with something unreadable.
"I thought i lost you…"
"What happened to you?"
Dune lay there for a long moment, his breath still unsteady, his mind trying to grasp the answer himself.
Finally, his voice came, low and uncertain.
"…I don't know."
.
.
.
.
.
High above the blackened waters, perched within the veil of darkness, a man stood watching. The moonlight barely touched him, but the wicked glint in his eyes burned through the shadows. His lips curled into a slow, deliberate smile.
"Wonderful… how exciting," he murmured, his voice dripping with anticipation.
The air behind him shattered like fractured glass, rippling outward as a figure emerged, Jester.
"I'm sorry, Gambelio… we lost." His tone carried frustration.
A second distortion cut through the night as another figure stepped forward, this one marked by a single, unblinking eye.
"I didn't know one of them could use Nebawave…" the One-Eyed Jester muttered, his gaze fixed on the drifting boat below.
Then, one by one, the rest of the jesters materialized, their grotesque forms surrounding Gambelio like twisted reflections of his own mind.
But Gambelio laughed. A deep, rattling laugh, filled with something far from disappointment.
"It's okay, kekekekeke." His fingers twitched at his side, barely containing his excitement.
Gambelio was draped in chaos and elegance, his ghostly pale skin stark against the riot of colors adorning him. Long, unruly hair, half veiled sharp, hypnotic eyes. His face bore tattoos, thin lines tracing his jaw like stitched-on smiles, an eerie charm woven into his wicked grin.
Beads and trinkets dangled from his jester-like hat, red and yellow orbs swaying with each motion. Feathers, dark as midnight, draped his shoulders, blending into his embroidered black and crimson coat. Chains, ribbons, and jagged patterns stitched into thick fabric made him a spectacle, an enigma of danger and allure.
His eyes gleamed as he spoke again. "I wonder… where did that boy learn such a technique? Nebawave, an ability only taught to nobles. Only those of the highest bloodlines are allowed to master it. Yet somehow, he achieved it in battle, instinctively."
"He's not just adaptable. He's a prodigy. A monster that learns too fast."
His tongue clicked in amusement. "How strange. How deliciously strange."
Then, the Card Jester stepped forward, his voice laced with rare caution.
"Gambelio," he warned, his cards spinning between his fingers, "we almost died." His cross-shaped pupils gleamed beneath the moon. "Be careful. I suggest we avoid that boy for the time being."
He exhaled slowly, shaking his head. "He is insanely reckless… but too smart. I can't believe he figured out our two only weaknesses."
Gambelio's smirk faltered for the briefest moment before curling again, sharper this time.
"Hmph."
The Jester Prince exhaled, rubbing a gloved hand over his face. "It was already risky enough trapping four people in Jester's Prison."
His fingers twitched.
Yes… the five jesters were nothing more than a manifestation of his own Zeten ability. His very essence, twisted into something tangible, something unkillable.
Yet, somehow, that boy… figured it out.
"Dune not only realized the only way to escape was to destroy Card Jester…" Gambelio muttered, his eyes narrowing. "But he also uncovered my biggest weakness."
"I can't kill anyone inside Jester's Prison." His voice was edged with something unreadable, something dangerous. "That's why I never did. That's why I let them struggle. Because if I kill someone within my dimension, I receive the same amount of damage."
"That's why I weakened them first. The plan was simple, once they were too exhausted to resist, I'd deactivate the Jester prison… and kill them myself."
"But he figured out everything."
His hand went to his chest, tracing the wound that should have killed him. The same wound Dune had inflicted. It had already healed.
But that wasn't the point. Dune had forced his hand. And he had won.
Had Gambelio not deactivated the prison in time… had he hesitated for even a second longer… he would have died.
And yet, instead of fear, there was exhilaration. A slow, unhinged grin spread across his face. His breath came unsteady, not from exhaustion, but from something far worse.
"Kekekekekeke…"
The laughter built, swelling in his chest until it erupted.
"THIS—" He threw his arms out, eyes gleaming with sheer madness. "This just makes me even more excited!"
His teeth gleamed beneath the moonlight, his voice dripping with hunger.
"I, Gambelio Jestaros, will return…" His pupils dilated, his body trembling with sheer anticipation.
"And next time—"
His grin split wider, almost unnatural.
"VICTORY WILL BE MINE."