Blue Boxer froze mid-step as the moonlight finally revealed the stranger’s face.
“No…” he breathed.
There, smiling like the cat who just saw a canary walk into a trap, was the Mad Magician—dressed not in his usual velvet cloak and top hat, but in a sleek black ensemble that somehow still shimmered with theatrical flair. His domino mask glittered faintly, and a sly smirk curved across his lips.
“Surprised?” the Magician purred, tilting his head ever so slightly. “I must say, Ethan, I do enjoy the look on your face. The perfect cocktail of horror and confusion.”
Blue Boxer’s fists clenched instinctively in his gloves. “How did you—how long—?!”
“Oh, hush. You really should’ve known,” the Mad Magician cooed, stepping closer, hands clasped behind his back. “All those nights of banter. All those little nudges. You practically begged for it, darling. I didn’t even have to use a single incantation to get you hooked.”
Boxer’s heart thundered in his chest. He glanced around the rooftop, searching for traps, illusions—anything—but the space was eerily still. Just them, the wind, and the glittering sprawl of Grit City beneath them.
“Why?” Boxer growled. “Was this all some elaborate joke? You really that desperate for attention?”
The Mad Magician chuckled. “Oh, this wasn’t just for laughs, my dear Boxer. This was for leverage. I’ve learned more about you in these little chats than I have in a decade of chasing each other through alleyways and collapsing theaters. I’ve seen your tender spots. Your vulnerabilities. Your desires.”
He drew closer, just a few feet away now. “And do you know what happens to a man like you when people see he’s not invincible? When the whole city learns that Grit City’s bare-knuckle savior is just a lonely, lovesick fool waiting for a message on a phone app?”
Blue Boxer’s jaw tightened, his breath quickening.
“I swear, if you try to—”
“Oh, I already have.” The Magician raised a gloved hand, and a deck of cards spun from his sleeve, dancing through the air in a hypnotic orbit around his head. “But don’t worry. I haven’t made everything public yet.”
The cards stilled mid-air as the Mad Magician stepped in, close enough now that Boxer could smell the faint trace of sandalwood and stage smoke on his breath.
“You see, Ethan… I don’t want to ruin you.”
He leaned in closer, voice dropping to a purr.
“I want to own you.”
Boxer’s eyes flashed with defiance. “That’ll never happen.”
The Magician’s smile widened. “Oh, we’ll see.”
A snap of fingers. A flash of violet light. And Mad Magician's spell began...