The forest was alive with tension, but it wasn't the trees that stirred it. It was them. Shadows darted between twisted trunks, their movements too fast, too precise. Leaves rustled, twigs snapped.
"Here they come," Kieran muttered, his grip tightening on his shield.
Aiden's eyes narrowed as the another set of glowing red eyes pierced through the tangled foliage. Then another. Then five more. They circled, darting in and out of view like phantoms just beyond the treeline. The hum of distant echoes—the clatter of stone, the distant roar of something massive—rumbled beneath the sound of steady, methodical footfalls.
"Don't let them box us in," Aiden said, his breath slow and deliberate. His eyes darted left and right, scanning every shadow.
The moment the first raptor lunged from the trees, everything broke into chaos.
Amara's rifle snapped up, her eyes sharp with focus. A sharp crack echoed through the air as her first shot punched clean through one of the raptor's shoulders, sending it skidding into the dirt with a snarl.
"Contact! Multiple incoming!" she shouted, pivoting as she fired again, this time catching a second raptor mid-pounce. The creature spun mid-air, its claws raking at the ground as it crashed. It didn't stay down.
They came in waves. Four. Six. Then ten. Shadows with oil-slick feathers and crimson eyes that glowed with cold, predatory intelligence. They circled like wolves, their low, rumbling growls vibrating in the air.
Rowan's eyes darted between them, heart hammering in her chest. Her spear spun in her hand with precise rotations, the metal hum cutting the air. Her gaze locked on two of them advancing from her left. Too close. Too fast. She lashed out with her spear, jabbing the closest raptor in its snout. It hissed, recoiling, but the second lunged.
"Not today!" she snarled, twisting her spear around to block, but it was too close. Too many. Too fast.
The raptor's claw scraped her side as she backpedaled, gasping in pain. Blood soaked through her jacket.
"Rowan!" Aiden called out, his voice sharp with concern. He surged forward, his hands flickering with tendrils of darkness. Not again. Not this time. His breath came short, but he didn't hesitate. The mist around him thickened, curling up from the ground like vapor from a boiling sea. His skin shimmered, his body cloaked in the shifting layers of his dark mist armor.
The raptor that struck Rowan turned its head at him—and that was its mistake.
With a sharp, forward dash, Aiden barreled toward it, the mist forming jagged, claw-like protrusions over his fists. He threw a punch, the mist-claws extending forward, striking with the force of a battering ram. The raptor crumpled under the impact, its body skidding across the ground.
Rowan let out a breath of relief but kept her spear raised. "Took you long enough," she muttered, gritting her teeth through the pain.
"You're welcome," Aiden replied, his eyes not leaving the others. The pack was watching. Calculating. He saw the way their eyes flicked between him and the others. They're watching me. Why?
Aiden's eyes flicked to the side, his heart still. One of them is missing.
He felt it before he saw it. One of the raptors broke formation, veering left into the dense underbrush, its sleek form vanishing like a shadow swallowed by the dark. It didn't move like the others. It moved with intent. It was going for something else. Someone else.
"Center up!" Kieran barked, his shield raised high as he stomped into position. Sylva hovered just behind him, her glow faint, her eyes darting rapidly between the advancing raptors. Her face was tense, lips pressed into a line. "Kieran at the front, Aiden at his back. Rowan to the left, Amara on the right, covering the flanks. Slyva watched them all from the center."
Sylva didn't argue. Her eyes darted between the raptors as her glow pulsed in a steady rhythm. Like she was counting.
"Don't let them flank us!" Kieran ordered, his stance as firm as a stone pillar. A raptor rushed from his right. He pivoted, shield raised, and the impact hit like a thunderclap. The creature rebounded off the barrier, snarling as it shook itself and leapt again. This time, Kieran met it with his fist, walloping it clean in the jaw. Black fluid sprayed from its jaws, and the raptor dropped with a wet thud.
More raptors burst from the treeline—six this time. Two darted straight for Kieran, their claws flashing like razors. They collided with his shield, the impact loud as a hammer strike. Sparks flew as the edge of a claw scraped along its surface. Kieran held firm, feet planted like tree roots.
"You want Sylva?" Kieran roared, his voice deep and thunderous. "Come and try!" He shoved forward, the shield's rim catching one raptor in the snout. It staggered back just in time for the edge of his sheild to swing down, cleaving through its neck.
Another raptor darted around him, eyes locked on Sylva.
"Not today," Amara snapped, sighting the beast. Her finger squeezed the trigger—one shot, one kill.
Click.
Her rifle jammed. "Damn it, not now!" she growled, eyes darting as the raptor closed in. Her fingers moved on instinct, flipping the safety off, twisting the chamber—too slow.
Sylva's glow intensified for just a moment. A pulse of light hit the raptor's side, staggering it just long enough for Amara to twist the grip of her rifle. Her heart steadied. She let out a slow breath.
"Fine," she muttered. Her fingers danced along the side of the rifle, gripping the latch along its body. Her breath flowed like water. "Release."
With a sharp twist, the rifle brimmed with light. Therifle folded in on itself with a metallic clack-clack-shink! The long barrel bent inward, the stock curled, and from the shifting, snapping metal emerged a sleek, deadly fan—Darya's fan. The edge glowed faintly, its razor-thin blades catching the flickering glow of the forest light.
The raptor leapt.
Amara spun, the fan slicing the air in a sharp, graceful arc. One cut. Clean. Precise. The raptor twisted in mid-air, its body trailing black mist as it collapsed behind her.
"Switching to close-quarters!," she shouted, her eyes locked on the next raptor. Her footwork shifted, her steps precise and deliberate. Darya's fan spun in her hand, its glow like the edge of a crescent moon.
"Glad you finally caught up," Rowan said, her smirk visible even in the haze of combat. "I was getting lonely."
"Don't get comfortable," Amara replied, her eyes locking onto another target. "You're still behind me."
Two more raptors charged.
One took the left, the other the right. Rowan shifted her stance, her eyes flicking back and forth. Her spear moved, but they were too close—too fast.
"Backline's secure!" Aiden called, glancing back at Sylva. "Stay close, too kieran."
Aiden's eyes flicked to Kieran—he's holding them back, so why aren't they pressing him?
Amara's fan whipped through the air, cutting down two more—why weren't they reacting to her at all?
Sylva. Sylva should be the target. She's always the target.
But they weren't watching Sylva. They weren't watching Rowan.
His heart skipped.
One of the raptors shifted position, its eyes locked on him with the patience of a hunter watching wounded prey.
"Wait," Sylva's voice was soft but firm. She floated just behind Kieran, her glow dimmed to a faint flicker of green. Her eyes watched the raptors with an intensity that wasn't fear—it was recognition. "They're not hunting me."
Rowan shot her a glare. "What? You're the one they should be after, right?" Her eyes darted to the raptors as they edged closer, weaving between roots and branches with predatory grace. "You're the one the Core wants."
"No," Aiden's eyes narrowed as realization settled into his chest like a stone. He followed the line of their movements, tracked their gaze—not toward Sylva, but to him. They weren't stalking her. They were circling him.