The battlefield fell into a tense silence as the Metis Commander fully emerged from the portal, its sheer presence enough to make the air feel suffocating.
"You took what belongs to us," it repeated, its deep, distorted voice reverberating through the ruins.
The Trojan Core.
Asher's mind worked fast. If the Metis wanted it back this badly, then its value was beyond just a weapon or a trap. The core was part of something much larger, something the Metis couldn't afford to lose.
But there was no time for theories.
The Commander raised its massive clawed hand, and the surrounding warriors suddenly stopped their attacks, stepping back in eerie unison. It was giving them a direct order.
Then, in an instant, it vanished.
A blur of black and red shot toward him. Fast. Too fast.
