125 THE KIDNAPPING
Zairgid locked the doors.
Military-grade armor and reinforced plating weren't enough to make him complacent—he reached for a cabinet under the dash, pulled out a row of capsule artifacts, and jamd one into the car's control.
A humming forcefield snapped into being around the vehicle like a second skin.
"Do you think a forcefield will save you?" the voice taunted.
"No," Zairgid shot back, "but what about twenty?" He thumbed another capsule. "I've got more shields than you've got arms to break."
He grinned despite his situation.
The attackers battered the car, tal on tal, even bringing up a machine gun. For half an hour they smashed and scread but the forcefield held.
Finally, frustrated, they pulled back.
Zairgid exhaled and relaxed until flas licked up the back of the car.
A figure stood behind them, wrapped in living fire.
"I can burn your thoughts," the man shouted. "Co out or I'll burn you alive, Zairgid Aukouma."
"No way I'm getting out," Zairgid said.
His driver, Rick, began screaming.
Zairgid snapped, "Rick, what the hell is—".
Rick's hair erupted into fla. His face blistered and imploded inward as if so internal furnace ate him alive.
"Like my mind pyrokinetics?" the fire-wrapped man said calmly. "I burn thoughts. Your shields cannot protect you from my fla."
Recognition slamd into Zairgid.
The man before him was Ignis Fla—a psychic-pyrokineticist. He stood before him with fire coiling around him like a crown.
"Damnit," Zairgid hissed looking at his burning driver. "My forcefields couldn't save
from that."
"Get out now, or I burn your brain," Ignis Fla ordered.
Reluctantly, Zairgid opened the door. The attackers closed in and dragged him away.
-----
Zairgid's captors dragged him into an old industrial tower. Rusted beams and shattered glass lined the empty top floor. A single chair waited in the center, lit by a dangling bulb that swung in the wind.
They shoved him into the chair.
"What the hell are you doing? Release !" Zairgid shouted, struggling against the restraints.
Ignis Fla pulled up another chair from storage and sat across from him, flas flickering faintly across his shoulders.
"Relax. The boss is coming," he said, his voice cold and casual.
Zairgid swallowed hard.
He knew who the "boss" Ignis was talking about— Garius Zetheris. Ignis Fla is the consultant Hero under the employ of the Zetheris family.
"You know, Ignis," Zairgid said with forced calm, "I could make you rich. Just na a price, and I'll double it."
Ignis' eyes flared crimson.
He slamd his fist into his own chair, and it burst into flas, collapsing into ash. He stared at the smoking debris, fuming. "Now look what you made
do! I liked that chair!"
Zairgid kept quiet after that.
He knew the man wasn't for sale — Ignis was fanatically loyal to the Zetheris clan.
Monts later, the elevator doors groaned open. Garius Zetheris stepped out, wearing a sharp suit, black gloves, his eyes burning with cold rage.
"Zairgid Aukouma," Garius said, his voice smooth but dangerous. "You've been naughty."
Zairgid smirked. "Naughty? What, did I sleep with your girlfriend or sothing?"
Garius' expression hardened. "Careful. Mock
again and even your father won't be able to save you."
Zairgid leaned forward, smiling defiantly. "Dealing with you doesn't require my father's help."
"I'll burn him alive," Ignis snarled, stepping forward.
"Stop," Garius snapped. He pulled out his communicator and dialed. "Let's see if Zolan Aukouma feels as brave."
The call connected.
"Zolan, your son is with ," Garius said.
On the other end, Zolan's voice was calm but puzzled. "Garius, what are you talking about? My son's right here with . He's got a fever but he's here."
"That's impossible," Garius hissed. "Don't lie to , Zolan! Give up your secret deal with Fortress Myrone, or I'll burn your boy alive!"
But Zolan just turned his device, showing a live feed — Zairgid was there, peacefully asleep in his room, feverish but breathing.
"If you have nothing more than pranks, I'm done
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