Chiaki sat quietly in the spacious chamber, eyes fixed on her palm as if searching for an answer hidden in the lines of her skin. "I need to get out of here. I can't just sit around while everything's falling apart," she muttered, her resolve unwavering. Even with her wounds freshly bandaged for the second time, she was already scheming how to fight her way out.
Suddenly, loud crashes echoed from beyond the door—heavy iron clanging and sharp, pained shouts from men. Chiaki's gaze sharpened as she turned toward the sound, alert and ready, watching closely to see if someone was about to barge into her room.
"Razor! We told you to stay quiet! Not tear through the whole damn building like some—some manic, saw-wielding gremlin!" Fioren shouted, breath ragged as she tore after her.
"Oh please," Razor hollered back, skipping sideways as she spun her saw like a baton. "Gremlin? That's lowballin' me, sugarplum—I'm a full-course catastrophe with glitter on top!"
Yuka's voice rang out from somewhere behind, sharp and panicked. "We had a plan! A stealth plan!"
"And I'm stealthin'!" Razor insisted, immediately tripping a soldier with her tail and bonking his helmet with the flat of her saw. DONG.
"See? Gentle as a lullaby!"
Three more guards came around the corner. Razor gasped—gasped—like she'd just spotted a sale rack of knives. "Ooooh, friends! Let's play tag, I'm 'it' and also mildly unstable!"
She charged, giggling, slapping one across the chest with the broad side of the blade, twirling like she was in a ballroom. Another tried to aim a crossbow—she ducked and slapped the weapon out of his hands with a "no thank you!" Then she dramatically kicked his shin.
"I call that move 'regret kaboom!' You likey?"
The last one tried to run. Razor took off her boot and threw it at him. Direct hit.
"Boom! Headshot! With FASHION!"
Fioren skidded up beside her, looking like she wanted to scream. "You promised—PROMISED—you wouldn't cause chaos!"
Razor put a hand to her heart like she was offended. "Excuse you. This is controlled chaos. Artisanal, even."
She struck a ridiculous pose, one boot on a fallen guard, saw held like a guitar. "Ladies and gents and Chiaki probably crying in there—it's jailbreak o'clock!"
With a wild cackle, she kicked open the chamber door, then cupped her hands around her mouth and bellowed, "Chi-chan! It's your favorite unstable shark girl! Grab your bandages and your attitude—we're bustin' out!"
Razor darted ahead, moving like a streak of chaos through the corridor. Her saw dragged against the wall, screeching as sparks flew, but her focus stayed razor-sharp.
A soldier stepped out from a side room—too slow. Razor slammed her shoulder into him and sent him flying backward into a wooden shelf with a crash. She didn't even stop. "One down, and we just opened the buffet!"
Another door swung open. Before the guard could raise his weapon, Razor swung her saw sideways—not to cut, but to knock the weapon out of his hands and send him sprawling into the hallway. "Incoming! Catch your boyfriend, Fioren!"
Fioren swerved to the side, sighing. "Do you have any plan besides sprint and swing?"
"Yup! It's called do stuff 'til it works! Works ninety percent of the time, zero percent of the time!"
More soldiers appeared ahead. Razor didn't slow. She veered left, kicked open a door, and vanished inside—only to burst out of a different room five seconds later with a guard tucked under one arm. "He said I needed supervision, so I'm bringin' him!"
She tossed the man to the side and kept running. Every time she passed a door, she kicked it open—sometimes running through the room, sometimes just hurling guards out into the corridor behind her. One after another, they crashed down in front of Fioren and Yuka, who had to step over or duck beneath the chaos just to keep up.
"Left clear! Right clear! Middle is a damn party!" Razor shouted as she spun through another set of doors, her voice echoing. "No one's dead, I swear! Probably! Don't ask me for paperwork!"
At the far end of the hall, she rammed open a heavy door, glanced inside, then waved wildly.
"Chiaki! I got a trail of broken bones and bad decisions behind me and you're next on the freedom train! Let's move before I start throwing furniture!"
At the end of the hallway, a lone guard stood firm before the entrance to Chiaki's chamber, gripping his spear tightly, eyes narrowing at the approaching chaos.
"You're not going any farther," he barked, planting his feet wide. "This chamber is under direct—"
WHAM.
Before he could finish, Razor spun into view, barely slowing. Her massive shark tail swung out from behind like a battering ram, catching him clean across the face with a sickening thud. The guard flew sideways, slammed into the wall, and crumpled in a heap—completely unconscious.
Razor didn't even glance at him as she stepped over his body, adjusting her grip on the saw. "Aww, he thought that was gonna be a whole speech. Cute."
Fioren caught up a moment later, panting, eyeing the knocked-out man. "You could've given him a chance to stand down."
"I did. I just did it super fast," Razor said, pushing open the chamber door. "Chi-chan! Good news—we brought the storm, and it's got your name stitched on the flag!"
Razor slammed her shoulder into the chamber door, blasting it off its hinges. The door flew across the room and crashed into the wall just behind Chiaki, who jolted up, eyes wide as she stared at the whirlwind of chaos bursting into her room—with Razor front and center.
"Hell yeah, girls! Jackpot secured!" Razor grinned wide, her long tongue flicking out as she leaned forward, casually resting her saw over her right shoulder like it weighed nothing. Behind her, Fioren and Yuka stepped in, both breathing hard, eyes scanning the room.
Chiaki blinked, stunned. "What are you doing here?! You said you wouldn't cause a scene!"
Razor spread her arms dramatically. "This isn't a scene, babe. This is a masterpiece. We've got property damage, hallway gymnastics, and like, eight-and-a-half unconscious dudes—I'm basically curating an exhibit."
She gestured around as if expecting applause. "You're welcome!"
Fioren stepped over a fallen guard and gave Razor a sharp look. "Eight and a half? Seriously? You knocked out triple that."
Razor paused mid-strut, tongue flicking out as she grinned. "Wait, really? Damn, I'm more productive than I thought."
She spun around, planting her saw dramatically against the floor like a banner. "Ladies and Chiaki, update the scorecard—I'm officially a one-woman security crisis."
Yuka shook her head. "That's not something to be proud of."
Razor wagged a finger. "It is when you did it with zero fatalities, maximum flair, and at least three spin moves. That's efficiency and style."
Chiaki looked from one to the next, still trying to process the chaos. "You're telling me the whole palace is probably in alert... because Razor knocked out two dozen guards—by herself?"
Razor grinned, spreading her arms. "Not my fault their security system folds faster than a cheap tent. Now come on, Chi-chan—freedom's callin', and I'm feelin' destructive!"
Chiaki didn't move. Her gaze dropped to the polished stone beneath her feet, voice barely above a whisper—calm, but cold. "I told you all to stay out of this."
The silence that followed wasn't empty—it was heavy, like breath caught between crashing waves. Fioren exchanged a quick glance with Yuka, uncertain. But Razor? Razor just grinned wider.
"Yeah, you did," she said, voice flippant, eyes glinting. "And we all nodded like good little idiots… then decided that was the dumbest thing we ever heard."
Chiaki's fists trembled at her sides. "I wasn't asking for an opinion."
Fioren stepped forward, tone soft but steady. "We know. And we're not asking for permission."
Chiaki slowly turned toward them, a flicker of emotion cracking through her face—anger, maybe. Or something more tired. "If I leave now, they'll chase me. And next time, they won't just chain me. They'll go after you too."
"We already lit the fire," Yuka replied, arms crossed, her voice low and unwavering. "We're not backing out just because the smoke's getting thicker."
Chiaki looked away. "I had it under control."
"You call bleeding in a palace full of psychos a plan?" Razor snapped, her tone jagged now, humor peeled back to bare iron. "If you're the brains of the operation, we're all screwed."
She took a few slow steps forward, then dropped into a crouch, squinting up at Chiaki with the grin of a lunatic who cared too much.
"You wanna play the martyr? Too bad. We flunked 'abandon your friends' back in semester one."
Chiaki's lips parted, a breath caught in her throat as she met Razor's eyes. Behind her, the bodies of collapsed guards still groaned faintly—but none of the girls paid them any mind.
Then Razor rose to her full height again, tilting her head toward the shattered doorway.
"So?" she said. "You staying here to rot in royal silk, or are we burning this place down together?"
She swung her saw lazily onto her shoulder.
"Because I didn't claw through three stairwells, a kitchen, and one very offended nobleman just to listen to you sulk."
Chiaki stared.
Then, finally—finally—her shoulders eased. The corner of her mouth twitched.
"…You're all insane."
Razor winked. "Takes one to rescue one."
Yuka rolled her eyes. "Enough talk. Let's move."
Fioren nodded toward the open corridor. "Lead the way, Chiaki. We're with you."
And for the first time in what felt like ages, Chiaki took a step forward.
To be continued...