Nina didn't think. She just moved.
Chris shoved her aside as one of the masked men lunged, machete slicing through the air where she had just been standing. The blade clanged hard against the rooftop floor, sending sparks flying.
"Go downstairs, now!" Chris shouted, stepping between her and the attackers.
Nina sprinted toward the staircase, heart hammering in her ears. She glanced back just once — just enough to see Chris move like liquid shadow, disarming the first man with a brutal twist of his arm. The machete clattered across the rooftop.
But two others remained, and they weren't playing.
"Move!" Chris barked again, but Nina's feet had frozen halfway down the steps. Fear gripped her chest tight.
One of the attackers caught sight of her hesitation. Grinning beneath his mask, he broke off from the fight and charged toward her.
Panic surged through Nina. "Oh God, oh God—"
Just before the man could reach her, Chris yanked something from his belt — a short silver baton. With a quick flick, it extended into a full staff, humming softly like it was alive.
He swung low, sweeping the attacker's legs out from under him. The man crashed onto the concrete with a grunt.
Chris grabbed Nina's arm. "We have to leave. Now."
Without waiting for her response, he dragged her down the stairwell.
Footsteps thundered behind them as the remaining men gave chase.
They burst onto the street, blending instantly into the thick crowd of shoppers and commuters. Makola Market was chaos on a normal day — but today, it was Nina's salvation. They weaved through baskets of oranges, women balancing crates on their heads, tro tros jammed at every corner.
"Stay close," Chris ordered, his hand firm on her elbow. His voice was steady, calm — like he'd done this a hundred times.
"Who the hell are those people?" Nina gasped, struggling to keep up.
"Later," Chris said sharply. "First, we lose them."
They ducked into a narrow alley between two cloth stalls. A group of schoolchildren spilled into the alleyway from the other end, laughing and kicking a plastic bottle between them.
Chris used the distraction to double back, pulling Nina through a side door into a crumbling shop.
Inside, the air was thick with dust and the smell of old wood. Broken shelves lined the walls. It was abandoned — perfect.
Chris finally let go of her arm. Nina leaned against the door, breathing hard.
"Start talking," she demanded. "What just happened up there?"
Chris's eyes scanned the room quickly, always alert. "You were targeted. Because of the key."
"But why? What's so special about a rusty old key?" Nina's voice cracked with frustration.
Chris gave a small, almost sad smile. "That key opens a gateway. A portal that connects our world to something ancient… something powerful."
Nina shook her head. "This is crazy. You're crazy."
"Maybe." Chris shrugged. "But if you don't believe me, they will catch you. And they won't ask nicely."
A cold shiver ran through her. She thought of the men's gleaming machetes. No, they definitely weren't planning to ask.
Chris stepped closer, his voice low and serious.
"Nina, you have a choice," he said. "You can pretend none of this is happening… or you can come with me. Find the gateway. Unlock your true destiny."
Nina stared at him. Her heart screamed for her to run back to her small, safe world.
But deep inside, something else stirred. Something fierce.
A feeling she couldn't deny.
"I'm in," she whispered.
Chris gave a small nod, almost like he had expected her answer all along.
"Good," he said. "Because this was just the beginning."