The fortress shook beneath the roar of alarms. Crimson lanterns flared to life, painting the stone corridors in warlike hues. Plugish soldiers scrambled to arms—only to be greeted by a blast of slicing wind that screamed down the hall like a vengeful spirit.
The cell doors rattled as Jasmijn's Codex came alive, its glyphs burning cerulean across her arms. She swung her blade once, and a gale tore through the entryway—sending a dozen soldiers hurtling backward, armor clanging, bodies crashing into walls and each other. Dust exploded from the impact, a storm within stone.
Behind her, Zayn, Charolette, and Chauncey burst into motion.
Zayn dashed forward, boots sparking as he sprinted up the side of the wall, defying gravity. His silver-flamed blade roared to life, its arc blinding as he launched himself off the wall. One Plugish soldier didn't even raise his weapon before Zayn's sword split through the air and his guard, silver fire tracing a gleaming path. The man fell, smoke rising from his armor. Though the fire wasnt his, he had no time to dig so deep into finding his own in the moment.
"Keep moving!"
Jasmijn shouted, her wind swirling around her like a living thing—cutting arrows midflight, redirecting spears back into the ranks they came from.
Chauncey surged through the chaos, a human battering ram. His fists were coated in glowing sigils, each punch sounding like thunder. A soldier lunged—Chauncey sidestepped, grabbing his arm and snapping it before sweeping his leg out. Two others rushed him at once—he dropped to the ground in a fluid slide, taking both their legs from beneath them. Before they could rise, Charolette's twin daggers flashed—a dance of metal, clean and merciless. Blood sprayed in arcs that caught the red light like ribbons.
The 4 moved as one—a blur of efficiency, instinct, and rage.
They carved through ranks of Plugish soldiers, the clang of metal echoing through narrow halls, wind howling, Codexes flaring. Bodies fell in their wake—some unconscious, others far worse. The air smelled of dust, sweat, and something burning.
A horn sounded deeper in the fortress. More boots thundered.
They didn't slow.
Jasmijn raised her hand, a storm coalescing at her fingertips.
"Down!"
she shouted.
The others hit the floor as a raging gust blasted through the next corridor, clearing it in seconds. When the dust settled, the path to the cells was open.
"Go, go, go!"
Zayn called, sprinting ahead.
They reached the lower dungeon—cold, damp, suffocating. The walls wept with condensation; chains rattled faintly as if reacting to the chaos above. The 4 descended the stairs fast, turning a corner—only to be greeted by the sight of Valdyr's Six, bruised, beaten, and trapped behind bars.
For a heartbeat, no one spoke.
Zayn swung his blade. Metal screeched. The bars glowed, then split in two, collapsing with a deafening clang.
The prisoners lifted their heads. Hope flickered in eyes dulled by captivity—everyone but Solas, who kept his gaze to the ground.
"What the hell happened here?" Charolette demanded, eyes darting to Kael's bruised and bloodied face.
"Kael's the sellout," Lyra said flatly.
"He's the one who fed the enemy information about Valdyr's secret route."
The air turned to ice. The 4 froze, disbelief flashing across their faces.
"Was it worth it, you bastard?"
Chauncey growled, stepping forward, his fists curling. Jasmijn caught him by the arm before he could get close.
"We have no time for that," she said sharply.
"We need to move. Now."
Reluctantly, they turned toward the corridor—but one remained still.
Solas.
Jasmijn turned, impatience and concern warring in her eyes. "Aren't you coming? We're kind of against time here."
Solas didn't move. His voice was quiet—raw.
"It's no use."
The group turned back, frowns spreading across their faces.
"They have… some kind of secret weapon," he said slowly, his eyes distant.
"A girl. With a cursed tongue."
A shiver rippled through Valdyr's Six. Mira hugged herself.
"She—she did something to us,"
Solas continued, his voice shaking. He looked down at his open palm, trembling slightly.
"It disrupted my Codex balance. It was like my entire body was detuning… like my soul was being pulled apart. She did that to all of us."
The silence was suffocating. Even Jasmijn looked uneasy.
"That scream…" Solas muttered, his tone darkening.
"It wasn't Codex resonance. It was older. Wrong."
Jasmijn's eyes flickered with realization.
"She sounds like an Eidolon Whisperer,"
she said softly.
"My grandfather told me stories. They aren't bound to the heart—they borrow from what's left after it stops beating."
A long silence followed, heavy with unease.
Solas clenched his fists, his head lowering once more as he leaned back.
"Until we find a weakness… or a way to beat her… taking back Valdyr is just a fleeting dream."
Despair crept across every face. The glow of hope dimmed as quickly as it had sparked. The weight of defeat hung in the air like fog.
Mira crouched down beside Solas, her voice quiet but steady.
"Hey,"
She began. Solas hadnt bothered looking up.
"Maybe she's strong. Maybe stronger than all of us. But if we give up now—if we stop fighting—then what's left of Valdyr dies with us. We're supposed to give people hope, remember? That's what the Six were meant to be."
Solas looked up at her. Her eyes were steady—defiant even in exhaustion.
For the first time since they'd been captured, a flicker of warmth cut through his despair. He exhaled, slow and deep, and stood.
"You're right," he said, his voice firmer now. "We'll find her weakness."
Behind him, Kael stared at the floor—his heart pounding with guilt.
Above them, the fortress quaked again—another explosion. The battle hadn't ended; it was only beginning.
Jasmijn's wind swirled once more, her Codex reigniting.
"Then let's move."
The stone corridors of the fortress trembled under the weight of distant battle. Smoke slithered through the cracked ceiling, curling in ribbons along the torchlight. Every sound—the faint drip of water, the thud of boots above—carried a haunting rhythm, as though the whole place pulsed with the heartbeat of war itself.
Zayn's blade still glowed with silver flame as he turned the corner, scanning for movement. Behind him, Jasmijn's breath came steady but quick; her palms still crackled faintly from her last Codex burst. Charolette and Chauncey followed in silence, their eyes sharp and unblinking. The cell doors they'd just cut through still lay on the ground, molten and hissing.
Valdyr's Six trailed close, ragged but rekindled—hope newly stirring behind their exhaustion. Solas kept his steps measured, his divine balance Codex faintly humming under his breath; Mira clutched her side where a bruise bloomed; Erik walked near Kael but refused to look at him. The silence between them was heavier than the air itself.
They were almost at the end of the corridor when a sharp click echoed ahead.
Zayn froze, hand shooting up in signal.
From the fogged passage, a figure stepped forward—crimson hair illuminated by the flicker of flame. She wore a half-burned Plugish officer's coat, its insignia scorched beyond recognition. Her stance was relaxed, confident; the kind of calm that only killers wore.
The metallic floor beneath her boots rippled.
"Well," she said, voice smooth and measured.
"You made quite the mess down here."
Charollete's eyes narrowed.
"Who the hell are you?"
Elara Voss smirked faintly.
"Captain Voss, to be precise. Edgar sends his regards."
Zayn stepped forward, sword raised, silver fire swirling around the blade. "Move. We don't have time for this."
Her head tilted slightly.
"Neither do I."
She lifted her hand. A faint tremor swept through the floor. The torches along the walls began to flicker—not from wind, but from vibration.
"Codex Resonance: Kinetic Echo. The Heart Of Predation."
Before anyone could react, the air shook.
A sonic wave tore through the hallway like an invisible blade, hurling dust and stone fragments toward them. The impact sent Zayn flying back into Chauncey.
Mira's water Codex flared instinctively, spiraling outward in a defensive bubble. It wasn't enough. The wave struck it like a hammer against glass, shattering the shield with a high-pitched crack. Chauncey's punch aimed at a soldier was deflected mid-air as the floor seemed to betray him, sending his momentum off-course.
When the dust settled, Elara still stood exactly where she'd been, lowering her hand slowly.
"What the hell was that?"
Lyra hissed, clutching her ear.
The air felt thick. Every step forward sent another pulse quivering beneath their feet. Every slash of a sword, every attempt to charge, was subtly altered—momentum thrown off, timing delayed, strikes glancing harmlessly off invisible barriers.
Elara's lips curved into a faint smirk.
"Every force… every intention… I feel it. Predictable, eager, trembling. You little mice have no chance."
Charolette's heart pounded as she leapt to intercept an approaching soldier—but even her dual blades felt weightless, as if the floor itself pulled against her strikes. Zayn's silver flame flickered erratically, his swings missing their mark by mere inches, frustration clawing at him.
"Move carefully,"
Jasmijn hissed.
"She's feeding off how we move!"
Chauncey had attempted to slam his fist into another soldier, but the pulse from Elara had shifted his landing. He stumbled, catching himself just in time. The soldier had quickly moved in to attack in Chauncey's vulnerable state-- but was intercepted by a brutal kick to the chest.
Another pulse. This one stronger. Stone shards lifted from the walls, hitting the group like hail. Dust stung their eyes, filling their lungs. The warriors staggered. The corridor became a gauntlet of invisible force, every misstep amplified.
Zayn's hands shook around his sword hilt.
"She—she's reading us,"
he breathed.
Solas' expression was grim and determined, eyes scanning for a pattern. It was clear as day. She was making them overcommit. They had to move in smaller bursts. In rhythm. She couldn't anticipate everything if they didnt give her the cues she expected.
The team hesitated, trying to coordinate silently, bodies tensing in near-perfect harmony. The next pulse struck. This time, they didn't stagger as far. Their movements appeared to be sharper, cleaner. Charolette ducked beneath a thrown soldier, sliding along the wall to avoid a sudden shudder that threatened to topple her. Kael vaulted over two Plugish soldiers thrown forward by the kinetic wave, delivering brutal downward strikes that landed with precision, not panic.
"Not reading,"
Solas muttered, stepping forward, eyes calculating.
"Reacting. Every movement, every shift we make—it's like it reads us before we even act."
Jasmijn frowned.
"But how? No codex works like that…"
Elara shifted her weight, and the ground under them rippled again, subtler this time, forcing Zayn to leap backward to avoid a spray of loose stone that erupted from the hallway floor. Chauncey countered with a forward surge, knocking two advancing Plugish soldiers into the walls, but a second wave of kinetic energy from Elara slammed into the back of his shoulder, staggering him.
Kael's azure fire flared to life, his palms igniting with blue flame. His eyes sharpened.
"Then we'll just have to overwhelm her!"
He fired a sweeping arc of blue fire that distorted the air. Elara countered by grounding the energy into the metal floor—but the azure flame didn't behave like heat. It hummed, crawling across the surface like lightning, unstable.
Her expression faltered for the first time.
"What—?"
The floor exploded.
Smoke filled the corridor. Zayn reappeared through the haze, blade slashing down in a silver streak. Elara barely caught it with her forearm guard, the impact sending a shockwave through both. The vibration rang up her arm, her Codex trembling from the overload.
She winced, eyes narrowing.
"Insolent, are we?"
Solas stepped forward, his divine balance Codex beginning to glow—a halo of pale gold radiating from his body.
"Everyone, steady yourselves."
The air calmed. The walls stopped shaking. His presence stabilized the Codex frequencies around them, neutralizing some of Elara's resonance field. This was his resonance. The Heart Of Divine Balance.
She wouldve noticed instantly.
"You're countering my vibration balance…"
"So...your codex only works if there's disharmony, doesn't it?"
Solas said coldly. It was a hunch, if anything.
"I'll remove that advantage."
For the first time, Elara's smirk faded.
Jasmijn lunged from above, riding a vortex of air as Zayn came in from the side. Their blades crossed, converging on Elara like mirrored strikes.
Elara twisted—barely. Sparks rained.
But before she could retaliate, Mira's water surged beneath her feet, freezing in place as Erik clenched his fist, his ice Codex sealing her in mid-step.
She tried to move—her joints locked in a sheath of frost.
Zayn's blade hovered inches from her throat.
"This is over,"
Her eyes flickered, then softened—almost… amused.
"Over?"
The floor hummed.
They all felt it at once—the vibration she'd been feeding into the walls the entire time.
"Wait a minute--…" Solas whispered.
The explosion tore through the corridor like thunder.
A shockwave of compressed energy blasted outward, flinging them all off their feet. Dust, fire, debris—everything blurred into chaos. When it cleared, Elara was gone, her voice echoing faintly through the collapsing hall:
"Valdyr has burned long before any of you understood what was coming."
Her laughter faded into the rumble of falling stone.
Zayn, coughing through smoke, slammed his fist against the ground.
"She got away."
Solas stood slowly, wincing from the vibration still ringing in his skull. "We have no time for a hunt. Right now, we focus on retaking the closest village and work our way from there."
Mira turned to him, quiet but firm.
"Just the 10 of us?"
Solas' eyes hardened.
"Did you forget? We're Valdyr's 6."
Eyes turned to Solas in unison. He helped himself to a smile, the warm familiar look of hope returning.
"And we have a commander, members of the Wraithfield bloodline, and a myth fighting with us. Whats over a 100 soldiers?"