The walls shuddered under the relentless assault, dust falling like ash as the sanctuary trembled. Shadows moved with feral speed, claws raking against stone, eyes glowing with hunger. The air was thick with the scent of death, a suffocating miasma that pressed down on every soul within the crumbling refuge.
Aspas stood at the center of the chaos, his presence a beacon of defiance. His body moved with unnatural speed, his nails cutting through flesh and bone, his roar echoing above the din of battle. Around him, the defenders fought with desperate fury, their fear drowned by the need to survive.
Near the inner gate, Caleb and Finn stood guard, their young faces set in fierce determination. They moved as one, their attacks fluid and precise, driving the mutates back with each blow. Their small bodies weaved through the onslaught, a dance of survival and courage that left the refugees staring in awe.
"Did you see that?" one of the guards gasped, his voice tinged with disbelief. "Those are Alia's boys… they're… they're fighting like warriors!"
Joren's eyes widened, his bow slackening as he watched Caleb break a mutate's arm with a swift strike, his movements swift and lethal. "They're just children… how…?"
But there was no time for questions. Another wave of mutates surged forward, their howls piercing the night. Aspas's voice thundered over the chaos. "Hold the line! Protect the children!"
He moved to the front, his fury a storm that shattered the attackers. His hands blurred, tearing through the creatures with terrifying efficiency. Yet, as each fell, another took its place, their hunger unyielding, their numbers endless.
Caleb's eyes met Finn's, a silent understanding passing between them. They fought back to back, their movements synchronized, their bond unbreakable. They used everything at their disposal—broken wood, shattered stones, even discarded weapons from fallen guards. Every object became a tool, every tool a weapon in their hands. Their resourcefulness was as fierce as their courage, their instincts sharpened by necessity. Alia's heart raced as she watched, torn between fear and pride. Relief surged through her as she realized that, maybe, her children were safe—safe from the accusations, safe from the whispers of betrayal. Perhaps their courage tonight would shield them from suspicion. But the thought was fragile, a hope tinged with uncertainty. She couldn't be sure. Not yet. Her sons were warriors. Protectors. But at what cost?
With a roar that shook the ground, Aspas slammed his palms into the earth. Stones erupted from the ground, forming a barricade that crushed the front line of mutates, their bodies crumbling under the force. The earth answered his will, rising to shield the sanctuary from the tide of darkness.
The mutates hesitated, their glowing eyes flickering with uncertainty. Aspas's gaze burned with defiance. "You will not take them!" he roared, his voice echoing through the ruins.
The creatures snarled, their hunger battling with fear. But as Aspas took a step forward, his power radiating like a force of nature, they faltered. Their howls grew softer, retreating into the night.
For a moment, silence reigned. Then, as if pulled by an invisible thread, the mutates turned and fled, their twisted forms vanishing into the shadows. Relief flooded the sanctuary, the tension breaking as survivors collapsed to the ground, their bodies shaking with exhaustion.
Cheers erupted, relief giving way to celebration. The refugees gathered around Caleb and Finn, their faces alight with gratitude and admiration. A man knelt before them, his eyes shining with tears. "You saved us… both of you. You fought like heroes."
Caleb looked away, his face unreadable. Finn's lips pressed into a thin line, his eyes flickering with a sadness that no child should carry. Alia rushed to them, pulling them into her arms, her tears mingling with laughter. "My boys… my brave boys…"
Aspas watched from afar, his eyes narrowing. The twins' abilities were no coincidence. Their skill, their power—it was too precise, too practiced. He had seen their movements before… in the shadows of the past.
His gaze shifted to the shattered roof, the stone broken deliberately to let the mutates in. A chill ran through him. Someone within the sanctuary had betrayed them. Someone who knew their defenses, who knew where to strike.
Joren approached, his face pale, eyes wide with realization. "We were sabotaged… there's a traitor among us."
Aspas's jaw tightened. "Then we're no longer safe here. It's time to find the mole."
His voice was cold, unyielding. "And once we do… we leave this place behind."
He turned, his eyes scanning the faces of those he had sworn to protect. Trust was a fragile thing. And tonight, it had been shattered.
The celebration continued, laughter echoing through the halls, but the shadows lingered, whispering of betrayal. Aspas knew the fight was far from over.
The hunt for the traitor had just begun.