More monsters emerged—larger, leaner, and far more menacing than the ones before. Their thick, blackened skin stretched taut over jagged bones, ridges of hardened spikes running down their spines and along their arms like natural armor.
Massive, leathery wings unfurled with a sickening snap, casting long, jagged shadows over the battlefield. Their faces were narrow and contorted, locked in perpetual, jagged grins filled with uneven, needle-like fangs.
Twin, molten-orange eyes burned like dying embers, cutting through the darkness with a predatory gleam.
But what made them truly terrifying wasn't just their size or their speed.
It was the way they turned on the others.
They didn't just attack the humans. They tore through the lesser monsters, ripping wings from Thralls, snapping bones like twigs, feasting on their own kind with violent, mindless hunger.
And then, in perfect synchronization, they lifted their heads.
The air went still.
Then they struck.
With a single motion, they unleashed a hailstorm of razor-sharp bone fragments, flung through the air at blistering speed.
The first volley hit hard.
Floodlights exploded one after another, glass raining down in shards, plunging the battlefield into suffocating darkness.
"What the hell is happening?" Ezra muttered, barely audible over the chaos.
A blur of movement shot past him.
A sharp, whistling sound—then a wet, sickening thud.
Ezra turned in time to see a soldier collapse, gurgling as a jagged bone jutted from his chest. Blood spilled over his fingers as he crumpled to the ground.
The creatures circled overhead, their elongated forms gliding effortlessly through the blackened sky. More bone shards rained down like a storm of knives, embedding deep into concrete, flesh, and steel alike.
"Irene! Reinforce the barrier—now!" Amara barked, her voice slicing through the chaos.
Irene was already moving. A pulse of shimmering Resonance rippled outward, sealing them within a dome of translucent wind just as another volley of bone shards slammed against it. The impact cracked like gunfire, but the barrier held.
Ezra squinted through the darkness. The battlefield had become a chaotic blur of shadows and flashing steel. Everything felt disjointed—flashes of movement, shrieks in the night, the glint of molten eyes watching from above.
Through the haze, he spotted Dane and Rook.
They were struggling.
Surrounded.
The creatures moved like specters, darting through the blackness with unnatural speed, their attacks relentless. Dane's arm dripped with blood, his usual grin long gone, replaced by gritted teeth as he barely dodged a strike.
Rook's stance had broken—his usually unshakable balance now faltering as he tried to hold them back.
They weren't winning.
"Tess, it's your turn," Irene called, her voice steady despite the chaos.
Ezra turned to the petite blonde just in time to see her exhale slowly, closing her eyes. Her skin shimmered faintly, a soft golden glow pulsing outward as she tapped into her Resonance.
A ripple of energy spread from her fingertips—
And the floodlights roared back to life.
Blinding white light blasted through the battlefield, banishing the darkness, forcing the shadows to retreat.
Ezra blinked against the sudden brightness, his heart still hammering in his chest.
"They had backup…" he realized, watching as the battlefield shifted. "They came prepared."
Dane and Rook wasted no time.
Tess's Aether surged through them, a reinvigorating wave of energy snapping their bodies back into motion.
Dane moved first. He grabbed Rook by the arm, and without hesitation, threw him.
A gravitational pulse flung Rook high into the air. Mid-flight, he twisted, locking onto the nearest group of Fiends. His hands latched onto two of them—ripping them down as he crashed back to the ground, slamming their bodies into the rubble with bone-crunching force.
Then—he clapped his hands together.
The shockwave that followed shattered the air.
The sheer force sent the remaining creatures spiraling back, crashing into the earth in limp, broken heaps.
For a moment, silence fell.
The ground was littered with their corpses, their twisted bodies strewn across the rubble. Smoke curled from the scorched earth, the last echoes of battle fading into eerie stillness.
All eyes turned to the Rift.
It was closing.
Slowly, steadily, the tear in reality began to shrink.
Rook hovered above the battlefield for a moment before Dane gently lowered him back to the ground.
The tension broke.
A ripple of relief spread through the soldiers. Some even cheered, their defenses lowering as the Rift's light dimmed further.
Dane wiped the blood from his cheek, flashing a tired grin. "Guys, that was awesome, right?" He turned to wave at the others, but staggered slightly. Rook steadied him with a firm hand.
Ezra let out a breath, finally allowing himself to relax.
It was over.
Until Amara spoke.
"…No. No, something's wrong."
Her voice was tight, sharp with unease.
Ezra turned, frowning. "What? What do you mean?"
Amara's eyes darted back to the Rift, her fingers twitching as she paced a small circle.
"This isn't how it's supposed to end…" she muttered, shaking her head. "It's… closing too early."
Ezra's frown deepened. "Wait… isn't that a good thing?"
Amara didn't answer.
She just kept staring.
And then—
The wind shifted.
The Rift stopped closing.
And something looked back.