–––Trigger Warning: May contain intense and graphic depictions of violence, gore, and brutal battle sequences. Reader discretion is advised.–––
Suddenly, the air shifted around them with an unnatural force, a sudden, biting chill cutting through the oppressive heat of the Rift. The sensation was unlike anything the team had experienced before, as if the very essence of the battlefield recoiled from the change.
Ember's eyes narrowed beneath his mask as his senses sharpened. His gaze darted toward Val, who stood unnervingly still, his hands limp at his sides. The shadowy remnants of Void energy flickered around him, but something was different. The pulsing, steady aura of control that usually radiated from Val was gone, replaced by a darker, colder presence.
Umbra, report, Ember ordered through the Mind Link, his voice clipped.
Val didn't respond.
The rest of Team Unknown noticed the shift as well, their positions instinctively tightening as the icy air seemed to wrap around them like a suffocating fog. Bo glanced toward Ember, his voice low. "Something's wrong. That's not normal Void energy."
Before Ember could reply, a faint hum reverberated through the air, growing steadily louder. Shadows began to gather around Val, pooling beneath his feet and creeping outward in tendrils that writhed like living smoke.
The constructs paused their relentless assault, their grotesque forms hesitating as if sensing an imminent predator. Even the ambient hum of Void-tainted energy from the Rift seemed to stutter, as though acknowledging a greater force.
Ember initiated a private channel through the Mind Link, his tone sharp. Val, explain. What's happening?
The response was immediate, but it wasn't Val.
"He's reaching his limit."
The voice was unmistakable—Deleo's. It carried a chilling resonance, laced with fury so raw that Ember felt the weight of it pressing against his thoughts.
Ember's jaw tightened as he responded, his tone colder now. Protect him, Deleo. This isn't the time for a power play.
Deleo's reply was a low growl, almost feral.
"You misunderstand, Ember Bellator. This isn't a game. If I hadn't taken over, your little brother would be dead."
Before Ember could respond, the tendrils surrounding Val exploded outward, consuming the space around him. The shadows coalesced, forming into the now-familiar shape of Deleo's materialized form.
This time, however, his presence was different—denser, darker, and radiating pure malice. The faint violet glow from his previous appearances was now a deep, ominous black, laced with streaks of crimson that pulsed like veins.
Deleo floated forward, his translucent form rippling with energy. His shadowed lips curled into a wicked smirk as his glowing eyes scanned the battlefield.
The constructs seemed to falter, their previously relentless movements now hesitant.
"They sense me," Deleo said, his voice dripping with dark amusement. "Good."
Without warning, he surged forward.
Deleo was a blur, a force of destruction that tore through the battlefield with terrifying efficiency. The first construct barely had time to react before his shadowy hand pierced its core, shattering it into fragments. He turned to the next, a whip-like tendril snapping out from his form to sever its limbs with brutal precision.
The Beta Team froze in place, their weapons momentarily forgotten as they watched the carnage unfold.
"What the hell is that?" one of them whispered, his voice trembling.
"Focus!" Serra snapped, her voice breaking. "We still have a mission!"
But even her commanding tone couldn't pull their attention away from the massacre.
Deleo moved through the constructs like a predator among prey. Each strike was calculated and merciless, leaving shattered husks and pools of blackened energy in his wake. One of the larger constructs—a towering sentinel—charged at him, its massive arms swinging with deadly force.
Deleo caught the blow with one hand, the impact sending a shockwave rippling through the ground.
He leaned forward, his voice low and mocking. "You thought that would work?"
With a sharp twist, he tore the arm from the sentinel's body, the sound of metal and sinew ripping apart echoing across the battlefield. He plunged the severed limb into the construct's core, obliterating it in an explosion of Void energy.
"Enough!" Ember's voice cut through the chaos, laced with frustration. "Stand down!"
Deleo turned toward Ember, his smirk widening. "You can clean up the rest, Bellator. I'm done."
Before Ember could reply, Deleo dissipated, the tendrils of shadow retracting as his presence faded. Val's body slumped forward slightly, but he remained upright, the aura of Void energy still flickering faintly around him.
Umbra, report, Ember demanded.
Val's voice came through the Mind Link, quiet but steady. Mission complete. No remaining hostiles.
Dr. Lewis's voice broke through. "Prepare for extraction. Transport is en route."
Deleo's voice cut in, dark and commanding. "No."
Everyone froze.
Deleo's voice carried through the Mind Link, addressing Ember alone. You will return with the transport. Umbra will teleport to HQ command.
Ember's eyes narrowed beneath his mask, but he didn't argue. Instead, he responded curtly. Understood.
Val materialized in HQ command, the energy of his teleportation rippling through the room.
Black tendrils of shadow coiled around him, their wisps of smoke hissing faintly as they brushed against the floor. His steps were slow, deliberate, and every movement exuded an icy malice that chilled the air.
Dr. Lewis turned, his eyes widening slightly as he took in the sight before him.
"Where," Val or rather Deleo, said, his dual voice a low, menacing growl beneath the mask, "are the fucking pigs who assigned Beta Team to this mission?"
The room fell silent. No one dared move or speak, the weight of Val's presence suffocating. His tone was colder than anything they had heard before, each word dripping with venom.
Dr. Lewis hesitated, but the piercing intensity of Val's presence forced him to straighten. "Umbra, what are you—"
"Answer me," Val interrupted, his voice rising slightly, laced with fury. "Where are they?"
The tendrils around him writhed, their movements sharp and agitated, as if reflecting the rage barely contained beneath his mask.
For a moment, no one dared breathe. The air itself seemed to vibrate with tension.
Dr. Lewis swallowed hard, his voice steady but cautious. "They're in the council chamber. I—"
Without another word, Val turned sharply and began to walk away, the shadows trailing behind him like a living storm.
No one stopped him. No one dared.