Trish stared into the mist as James vanished from sight. A strange worry tugged at her chest, something she couldn’t name. It wasn’t James’s departure that troubled her, not exactly. It was everything else. A weight pressing down on her shoulders, whispering that something wasn’t right.

  She turned back toward the fire, its flickering light dancing across Max’s face as he added more wood to the flames.

  “You alright, Trish?” Mel asked, settling beside her on the long log that served as their bench.

  Trish hesitated before answering. “I… I’m not sure. I just have this weird feeling.”

  “I’ve got it too. I’m worried about James,” Mel said, rubbing her arms as if brushing off the cold.

  Trish shook her head. “No. Not about James. Or Nyxala.” Her gaze drifted again toward the path James had taken. “I’m worried about us. I can’t explain it. Something feels… off.”

  Leo shifted where he sat, adjusting his cloak like it suddenly didn’t sit right. He gave a quiet cough. “Yeah. I can’t disagree. There’s just something… wrong in the air.”

  “I’ll take first watch tonight,” Max said, giving a confident pat to the constellation-laced bow resting across his lap. “Myrida and I will make sure nothing slips by us.”

  Trish offered a smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. It was more for the others than for herself.

  “What have you guys learned from that scale?” she asked suddenly, breaking the quiet.

  Mel’s eyes widened with realization. “Oh… right. I gave it back to Leo a while ago. I couldn’t glean anything from it. It just made me feel… weird.”

  Leo pulled a small satchel from his side and set it down between them. “This thing has a strange pull,” he said, voice low. “I’ve tried everything I can think of. I even reached out to other alchemists; ones more skilled than my teachers. Nothing touches it… not physically, not magically.”

  He stared at the satchel for a long moment, like it was calling to him. Trish’s voice broke the silence.

  “Leo… don’t let it control you.”

  He raised a hand, cutting her off gently.

  “The satchel keeps whatever it is at bay,” he said. “I’m not drawn to it like that. I’m just… intrigued. I can’t understand it. That bothers me.”

  Then his eyes lifted to meet theirs, an unusually serious expression. “But I will say this… it feels like it’s been pulling at something else.”

  Max shifted uncomfortably. “What do you mean?”

  “I can’t explain it,” Leo said with a slow shake of his head. “But I want to run more tests. There’s someone my teacher wants to send me to. He thinks this person might be able to help.”

  He picked up the satchel again and reattached it to his belt, his fingers lingering on the clasp.

  Trish watched him carefully. He wasn’t just studying the scale; he was reacting to it. “Do you think it affects people differently?” she asked, tone quiet but firm.

  Leo paused, eyes distant for a heartbeat, then turned back to her. “It’s possible. Who’s to say the satchel is working at all? Maybe it’s already changed me.”

  He hesitated. “Have you noticed me acting differently since I’ve had it?”

  “Hard to say. You’re usually off on your own unless we’re on missions like this,” Trish said, then raised a hand as Leo opened his mouth to reply. “But from what I’ve seen during our travels together… no. I haven’t noticed a change.”

  “You’re a bit more distant than I remember,” Mel added, studying him. “But I’ve just chalked that up to everything going on lately.”

  Max didn’t say anything. He simply shook his head. But as Leo and Mel turned their attention back to the fire, Max gave Trish a quiet, concerned glance before looking away into the woods.

  The next day passed without incident. Max hunted, bringing back enough to last a few days. Leo and Mel kept the wood pile stocked, ensuring the camp would stay warm through the night.

  As dusk settled and shadows stretched long, Trish gestured for Max to follow her.

  “Let’s check the perimeter before we settle in again,” she said.

  “At least it’ll be warmer tonight,” Mel commented, gesturing to the makeshift walls surrounding the camp. They weren’t perfect, but they helped trap the heat.

  “Yeah, nice job on that, Trish,” Leo added with a smile.

  “Thanks! I just hope it holds,” she replied, pushing open the crude door of branches as she and Max stepped beyond the camp’s light.

  They walked in silence for a few moments before Trish spoke again. “Everything okay, Max?”

  He gave a soft nod, eyes drifting to the gap in the clouds above. “I’m alright. I just miss my daughter. I pray she’s safe.”

  “I meant last…”

  She never finished.

  A scream of rage tore through the air, followed by an explosion that shook the earth beneath them.

  Trish’s heart leapt to her throat. Her eyes locked with Max’s. No words were needed.

  Max vanished into the shadows without hesitation.

  Trish’s armor flared to life around her as her wings burst free. She launched into the air, wings beating hard as she soared back toward the camp at full speed.

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  The sight that greeted her was chaos.

  Mel and Leo were both down, bloodied and barely conscious. A horde of figures swarmed the camp, twisting shadows and cruel steel flashing in the firelight.

  Max was already in motion, a blur of darkness at the edge of the fray, flanking the attackers.

  Trish didn’t think… she acted. Her voice rose in a clear, ringing hymn, divine energy spilling from her as golden light wrapped around her fallen friends.

  Mel’s eyes snapped open. Leo gasped as strength returned to his limbs. They rose in unison, weapons at the ready, battle igniting in their eyes.

  The fight was far from over.

  The horde pressed in from all sides, shadowy figures surging toward the heart of the camp. Mel’s ghostly armor flared to life, spectral bones layering over her body as she let out a roar that shook the trees. She stomped the ground with earth-shattering force, sending snow and shattered stone blasting toward the oncoming attackers.

  Leo lifted into the air, fire and earth coiling around him in a volatile dance. With a sweeping motion, he unleashed a flurry of elemental strikes, flames arcing through the darkness, searing across enemy lines.

  Trish stood still for a breath, watching the battlefield unfold around her. Then she closed her eyes and raised her arms outward.

  The chakrams burst into motion, dozens of them, swirling in a brilliant golden storm around her like a second aura. But as her eyes opened, they weren’t serene. They were furious.

  The swirling light shifted from grace to violence. Each chakram became a fang of divine vengeance, lashing out with focused precision.

  With a shout, Trish launched herself into the fray.

  She struck the ground beside Mel with a heavy thud, kicking up a spray of snow and dust. Mel shot her a look, a wild grin spreading on her face as she nodded in sync.

  Two of Trish’s chakrams solidified into larger melee rings in her hands, golden blades humming with energy. She dropped into a battle stance, shoulders low, weapons humming with power.

  Then she charged.

  Just before striking her first target, she caught a glimpse of its face—a twisted, monstrous thing, malformed and oozing menace. As Leo’s fireball exploded behind it, casting long shadows across its figure, she knew…

  This wasn’t just a creature.

  Its face was a writhing canvas of impossibility, too many eyes blinking out of sync, teeth spiraling inward toward a mouth that didn’t seem to end, and flesh that shimmered as if unsure of its own shape. There was no symmetry, no logic, just chaos, constantly shifting, like it hadn’t decided what form to settle on… or didn’t care to.

  Staring at it felt wrong. Like trying to remember a dream that didn’t belong to her. Her breath caught in her throat, not from fear, but from something primal, an ancient, buried instinct screaming that this thing was not of this world.

  This one would haunt her memories.

  She shook off the unease instantly, slicing her ring blade through the creature’s malformed body. As she spun, one of her metal wings whipped outward, striking it again, and with a full three-sixty turn, her second ring blade carved through the monstrosity in a fluid, brutal finish.

  Another strike came from her blind side, a barbed tentacle lashing toward her.

  Before it could land, a chakram whirled past her, severing the appendage mid-snap. A flash of silver and soundless precision.

  James wasn’t here to draw their attention. And while he couldn’t always hold the focus of every enemy in a fight, his presence had been more commanding than she’d realized. This… was something else entirely.

  Chaos reigned. The battlefield was fractured. There was no clear target for the creatures, they lashed out at random, hunting with primal instinct instead of strategy. Something was forcing them apart.

  She saw it then, the subtle drift of her allies, each being pushed away, isolated. They were being picked off, one by one, and the distance between them kept growing.

  No. Not like this.

  She threw her head back and screamed over the roar of battle, “Push to the center! Fight back-to-back!”

  Without waiting, she surged forward, carving a path through the writhing horde, her blades flashing with righteous fury. Any creature foolish enough to get in her way met the edge of her wrath.

  And then, Mel and Max arrived beside her, just as if they’d all shared a single thought. Back-to-back, they formed a wall of defiance. Ring blades, hammer, and daggers struck down anything that dared approach.

  Fear still clawed at her, nipping at the edges of her mind.

  But just as panic threatened to take hold, Leo hovered into view above the fray, flames and stone coiling around him like a storm.

  Just as he was about to land next to them, a sharp whistle sliced through the air.

  Trish’s eyes darted up instinctively… too late.

  A streak of silver tore across the battlefield like a bolt of vengeance, striking Leo midair.

  A blossom of crimson burst from his chest, too sudden to make sense of. His spells collapsed in an instant, flames and earth crumbling into ash as his body crumpled, spiraling downward in a dead drop.

  He hit the frozen ground beside them with a sickening thud.

  “Leo!” Trish screamed, spinning where she stood, her voice raw with disbelief.

  The creatures surged forward, shrieking with new fury, as if emboldened by the strike. Trish’s chakrams spun outward like hornets, carving through the first wave with brutal precision. Beside her, Max let out a guttural roar, his bow collapsed into twin blades of starlit darkness. He moved like a shadow unchained, cutting, twisting, dashing through the monsters with unrelenting precision.

  Mel’s eyes locked on Leo’s motionless form. Her muscles tensed, grief and rage flooding through her all at once.

  Her grip tightened on Gorrathir.

  With a low, guttural growl, she yanked the weapon upward, and it changed.

  The ethereal hammer pulsed with light, shifting in her grasp. The head of the hammer twisted, split, and reformed into the broad, wicked curve of a battle axe. Glowing spectral runes ignited along its new edge, humming with raw, vengeful energy.

  She didn't hesitate.

  With a howl of fury, she swung the axe in a wide arc, cleaving straight through a trio of beasts in one strike. Ethereal trails flared in the air with each movement, a haunting afterimage that shimmered like a phantom flame.

  They became wrath.

  The air around them shimmered with heat, ice melting beneath their feet from the sheer force of the battle. Enemy after enemy fell beneath their weapons, their strikes fueled not by strategy or coordination, but by raw, unfiltered rage.

  And then, only one remained.

  A final creature, clawed and slithering, darted with unnatural speed toward Leo’s fallen form.

  “No!” Trish shouted, but she was too far to intercept.

  The creature reached him.

  Its body twisted unnaturally as it raised both arms and slammed them into the ground.

  The earth cracked, not from strength, but from something deeper. Dark tendrils lashed out from the broken snow, wrapping around Leo’s body, yanking it down. A portal erupted beneath him, black, oily, rimmed in violet fire.

  Trish, Mel, and Max all lunged forward at once.

  They didn’t make it.

  The moment Leo’s body vanished through the threshold, a pulse of unimaginable pressure burst outward from the portal, striking all three of them in the chest like a physical blow.

  Their steps faltered, and their breath caught.

  Whatever had just opened… it didn’t belong in this realm. It didn’t belong anywhere. Even the mind recoiled from it.

  And then, as suddenly as it had appeared, the portal snapped shut. The ground sealed as if untouched, leaving behind only a thin crack in the snow and the silence that followed.

  A scream of rage and sorrow tore from her throat, raw and unrelenting. Mel and Max echoed her cry, each voice laced with disbelief and pain. Her fury crumbled into tears, sorrow consuming what strength she had left.

  Leo was gone.

  Who would be next?

  A new panic surged through her, James. What if he was being attacked too? What if this had all been part of something larger?

  Two of the Lepidomare hovered close, low, mournful hums vibrating from their chests, resonating through the air like shared grief. But one was missing. Sunveil.

  Trish’s heart dropped.

  She spun on her heel, eyes scanning the battlefield. “Where’s Sunveil?” she breathed, then louder, panic rising. “Where is he?!”

  She launched forward, wings flaring as she searched, above the trees, between bodies, through the mist and bloodstained snow. But there was no sign of him.