Eris crouched low, his breath hitching as a beam of searing light cut through the air mere feet from where he hid behind a jagged boulder. The scent of scorched flesh and ozone filled his nostrils, mingling with the coppery tang of blood that saturated the cavern. He peeked out for a moment, just long enough to catch a glimpse of the chaos. Bodies lay strewn across the ground, twisted and broken, while the evolved fighters moved with otherworldly precision, cutting through the scavengers like reapers in a field of wheat.
The scavengers around him were no better off. Panicked shouts and guttural screams filled the cavern as those who still drew breath scrambled to retreat or find cover. Eris clenched his teeth, his knuckles white as he gripped the rusted dagger he always carried—a pitiful tool in a battle like this. He had to move, to escape, but every direction seemed a death sentence.
A sudden gust of wind tore through the battlefield, knocking Eris flat on his back. His ears rang, and dust filled his lungs as he scrambled to his feet. A scavenger near him wasn't so lucky; the wind sliced through him like invisible blades, leaving his body crumpled and lifeless. Eris fought down the bile rising in his throat and darted forward, keeping his head low.
He weaved through the carnage, ducking under beams of light and narrowly avoiding the sweeping arcs of ethereal chains. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat a desperate plea to survive. He wasn't a fighter. He wasn't even supposed to be here.
Eris stumbled over a corpse, landing hard on his hands and knees. His palms scraped against the rocky ground, but he barely felt the pain. A shadow fell over him, and he looked up to see one of the scavengers—a hulking brute—towering over him. The man's eyes were wild with fear and desperation, his hands trembling as he pointed a battered blade at Eris.
"Get up!" the scavenger barked. "We're falling back to the ruins!"
Eris didn't need to be told twice. He scrambled to his feet and followed the scavenger as they darted toward the cavern's far end, where the massive ruins loomed. A group of survivors had already gathered there, their faces pale and bloodied. The scavenger leading him yelled something incomprehensible, waving his arm to beckon others.
Behind them, the sounds of the battle raged on. Flumen's staff struck the ground again, sending a cascade of earth and stone toward the fleeing scavengers. One man was crushed instantly, his scream cut short as his body was buried under rubble.
Eris and his group managed to slip into the shadows of the ruins, the massive stone pillars offering a momentary reprieve. The structure was ancient, its walls etched with strange runes that glowed faintly in the dim light. The scavengers pressed themselves against the cold stone, their ragged breaths echoing in the hollow chamber.
"What now?" one of them hissed, his voice trembling.
Eris didn't answer. His eyes were drawn to the center of the room, where the strange altar stood. The black bead atop it seemed to pulse faintly, an aura of malevolence radiating from its smooth surface. He could feel it, like a cold hand brushing against his soul.
Meanwhile, at the Battlefield
Vince stood amidst the carnage, his orb dimmed but still floating ominously around him. His piercing gaze scanned the cavern, his Crest pulsing faintly as he felt the ebb and flow of the battle's energy. His lips tightened as he sensed the scattering scavengers slipping toward the ruins.
"They're moving," he muttered to himself, his voice cold and calculating.
Flumen and Lyra approached, both bloodied but unharmed. Lyra's silver eyes met Vince's, her expression questioning. "They're heading for the ruins," she said. "What's the plan?"
Vince's gaze turned toward the ruins, his orb flaring briefly. "Flumen, Lyra, handle the scavengers. Drive them out or kill them. No one escapes."
Flumen grinned, his staff spinning lazily in his hands. "Shouldn't be too hard. They're already broken."
Lyra nodded, her expression calm but resolute. "And you?"
"I'll deal with Varik," Vince said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "He's watching us through his shadow. It's time to cut the head off the snake."
Without another word, Vince's orb flared brightly, and in a flash of light, he disappeared.
Varik's Hideout
The gang leader sat in a dim chamber, his dark flame flickering in his left eye. The projection of his shadow hovered before him, showing him the chaos unfolding at the ruins. He smirked as he watched the scavengers scurry like rats into the ancient structure, their desperation palpable.
"Pathetic," he muttered, leaning back in his chair.
Suddenly, the light in his eye dimmed, the projection flickering before vanishing entirely. Varik shot to his feet, his hand instinctively reaching for the dagger at his side. A bright light filled the room, and Vince appeared before him, his orb spinning lazily as it radiated a blinding glow.
"Varik," Vince said, his voice calm but laced with deadly intent. "Your time is up."
The gang leader snarled, his dark Crest flaring to life as shadows began to writhe around him. "You're bold, city rat," he spat, his voice venomous. "But you've made a mistake coming here alone."
Vince's smile didn't waver as he took a step forward, the light from his orb intensifying. "We'll see about that."