Ezra barely had time to brace himself before Amara yanked him backward, shoving him behind the cover of a damaged tank just as a wave of dust, dirt, and shattered debris engulfed them. The impact rattled through his bones as he hit the ground hard, coughing against the thick, choking air. Behind them, the creature's guttural screeches echoed, a raw, unearthly sound that sent shivers crawling down his spine.
Dane and Rook stumbled in moments later, Dane half-draped over Rook's shoulder. His face was pale, his usual cocky grin twisted with pain as he clutched his side, dark crimson seeping between his fingers.
Rook lowered him carefully onto the ground, his expression as unreadable as ever, though the slight crease in his brow betrayed concern. Dane sucked in a breath, inhaling dust, before flashing a crooked smile at Ezra.
"I looked pretty cool fighting, right?" he rasped.
Ezra didn't know whether to laugh or panic.
Before he could answer, Tess and Irene arrived, Tess barely on her feet, her face streaked with blood, eyes dazed with exhaustion. Without hesitation, Irene guided her toward Rook, who caught her effortlessly, cradling her like something fragile and irreplaceable.
For a moment, none of them spoke. The battlefield beyond their cover was eerily quiet, save for the distant, restless movements of the creature still prowling in the distance, and the heavy, ragged breathing of the group.
Amara peeked over the edge of the tank, her sharp eyes scanning for Eli—or whatever was coming next.
Ezra swallowed, shifting awkwardly as he glanced at their injuries. They were bleeding, barely standing, their strength pushed to its limits.
He hesitated for only a second before clearing his throat. "Hey, uh… I can heal. Just in case you're wondering."
Every head snapped toward him.
Amara's eyes narrowed. "You're serious?"
Ezra nodded, shifting under the weight of their gazes. "Yeah. Not great at it, but, uh… I can help."
For the first time since the fight had begun, their tense expressions shifted—somewhere between disbelief and cautious hope.
Rook, ever the silent one, made the decision for them. With a grunt, he nudged Ezra forward, motioning to Tess, who was barely holding on. Wordlessly, he laid her against his chest, careful, steady.
For a man built like a fortress, he handled her like she was something made of glass.
Ezra swallowed hard, his hands hovering over her. This was his first real test. No room for mistakes.
He pressed his palms against her arms, closing his eyes.
Aether surged within him.
Golden flames flickered to life, soft at first, before blooming into a warm, steady glow. The fire enveloped them both, curling around Tess's body like a protective embrace. The warmth sank into her, working its way through torn flesh and frayed energy, stitching her back together.
For a long, tense second, nothing happened.
Then—
Tess stirred, the color returning to her pale face, her shallow breaths evening out.
Ezra exhaled in relief.
"Hey!" Irene's panicked voice cut through his concentration. "We said heal her, not roast her alive!"
Ezra blinked, looking up at her, confused. "It's—controlled!" he defended. "She's not even crispy!"
Irene scowled, but Tess, eyes fluttering open, let out a soft sigh. "Warm," she murmured, barely audible.
"See?" Ezra muttered, glancing down at her as her breathing steadied. "No barbecue."
Rook let out a small, approving nod.
Ezra barely had time to let the relief settle before Dane groaned from the ground. "Alright, Doc, don't keep me waiting. I'm dying here."
"You're not dying," Amara muttered, rolling her eyes.
"Not with him around," Dane quipped, tilting his head toward Ezra. "But, y'know, still hurting."
Ezra sighed, already moving toward him. "Hold still," he instructed.
Dane grinned. "Make me pretty again, kid."
Ezra ignored him, pressing his hands over the wound.
Warmth flooded the area once more, golden flames licking gently at the torn flesh, sealing the wound with steady precision. Dane hissed at first, but after a few moments, his expression relaxed, the pain easing.
When it was done, he grinned wider. "Hey, Amara, can we keep him? I like him already."
Amara snorted. "He's not a pet, Dane."
Ezra groaned. "Can you all stop talking like I'm not here?"
Before anyone could respond, Amara dug into her pouch and pulled out a slim pair of glasses—sleek, with faint runes carved along the sides.
"Put these on," she ordered, tossing them to Ezra. "You'll want to see what happens next."
Ezra slid them on, and the world sharpened instantly.
Through the lingering dust and the fractured battlefield, his vision cleared as if a veil had been lifted. He saw everything—the faint glimmers of resonance in the air, the dark tendrils of Aether leaking from the Rift.
And then—
Eli.
Moving at inhuman speed.