Episode 10: The Line Between Us

The Aftermath of Madness

Evernight City was still reeling from Harlequin’s attack.

The skyline, once towering, was now scarred with fire and rubble. Buildings collapsed. Families were broken. The city was drowning in chaos, and the people had lost faith.

The police? Useless.

The government? Silent.

And in the shadows, Harlequin was watching.

Benjamin’s Hunt

Benjamin sat in the hideout, wounds bandaged but mind restless.

Selene and Ronan stood by the monitors, tracking crime reports.

"Harlequin's people are still out there," Ronan muttered. "The Jesters are hitting hospitals, shelters, police stations. They’re trying to keep the fear alive."

Selene leaned against the desk, arms crossed. "And Harlequin himself? He just… vanished."

Benjamin clenched his fists. Not for long.

Because tonight, he wasn’t waiting.

Tonight, he was hunting.

The Interrogation

The streets were alive with fear and fire.

Benjamin found one of Harlequin’s lieutenants—a Jester named Locke—leading a raid on a police convoy.

Before Locke even saw him, Benjamin was already there.

He took out four men in seconds, breaking ribs, smashing faces, moving like a storm of shadows and rage.

Then he grabbed Locke by the throat, pinning him against a crumbling brick wall.

"Where is he?" Benjamin growled.

Locke spat blood, laughing. "You still don’t get it, do you? Harlequin doesn’t need a where—he’s everywhere."

Benjamin tightened his grip. "Tell me."

Locke smirked. "You think you’re different from him? The way you fight, the way you enjoy this?"

Benjamin’s eyes darkened. "I don’t enjoy anything."

Locke chuckled, leaning closer.

"Then why do you keep doing it?"

For a second, Benjamin froze.

And that’s when Locke pressed a detonator hidden in his sleeve.

BOOM.

The Underground Arena

When Benjamin came to, he was in chains.

A cold, damp room. A single spotlight.

And standing in front of him, Harlequin.

Dressed in a tattered purple trench coat this time, he was twirling a rusted crowbar in his gloved hands.

"Welcome, welcome, dear Darknight! You know, I was beginning to think you didn’t care about me anymore."

Benjamin struggled against the chains. "I should’ve killed you last time."

Harlequin gasped. "Kill me? But what would you do without me?"

Then he motioned around.

The light flickered, revealing dozens of masked figures—Jesters, criminals, broken people who had sworn themselves to Harlequin’s madness.

"See, while you were off pretending to be better than me, I was busy building a family."

Benjamin glared. "They’re not your family. They’re just scared."

Harlequin leaned down. "Scared? Maybe. But at least they’re honest about what they are. Unlike you."

He twirled the crowbar once more.

"Now, Benny-boy… let’s talk about that line you keep trying not to cross."

The Fight in the Pit

Harlequin unlocked the chains, stepping back.

The Jesters circled around, forming a makeshift arena.

"You want to stop me?" Harlequin grinned. "Then fight for it."

The first Jester charged—Benjamin took him down in one strike.

Then another—spinning kick, broken jaw.

A third—grappling move, dislocated shoulder.

But they kept coming.

Harlequin watched from the sidelines, laughing. "Oh, it’s beautiful! The way you move, the way you fight—like an artist painting his masterpiece in blood."

Benjamin didn’t respond. He just kept fighting.

His knuckles were split open, his breath ragged, but he refused to fall.

Then Harlequin himself stepped in.

The Final Clash

Harlequin moved fast, the crowbar swinging like a conductor’s baton.

Benjamin dodged, countering with a brutal uppercut to the ribs.

Harlequin coughed blood, but laughed through it.

"Tell me, Benny, when will you admit it? You’re not a hero! You’re just like me—just with better PR!"

Benjamin didn’t respond.

He just broke Harlequin’s nose.

The clown stumbled back, dazed, grinning through bloodied teeth.

"Ohhhh, that was a good one."