The Riftspawn's jaws snapped down.
Kael rolled by instinct, the beast's fangs gouging deep into the ground where he'd lain a second earlier. His ribs screamed in protest as he scrambled to his feet, spear trembling in his grip.
"Kael!" Mira's voice cut through the chaos. "Move!"
But the Riftspawn was faster. With a swipe of its claw, it shattered his weapon into splinters and sent him crashing into a half-collapsed wall. Pain flared white-hot in his chest. He couldn't breathe. Couldn't move.
The beast lumbered closer, each step shaking the ground. Its breath was rancid, its eyes glowing faintly with that unnatural, abyssal light.
And then, from behind, Joren—the youngest of their crew—threw a stone. A pathetic, desperate gesture. But it drew the monster's gaze.
"Run, Kael!" Joren shouted.
The Riftspawn turned and pounced.
"No!" Kael's voice broke into a roar, but he was helpless, pinned by pain. Joren disappeared beneath claw and fang, blood spraying across the rubble.
Something inside Kael cracked.
He staggered forward, grabbing at the broken rebar spear, its jagged edge cutting into his palm. The beast reared back, and black ichor leaked from the bolt Mira had fired earlier. It dripped onto Kael's face—hot, alien, and alive.
The blood slid into the cut in his hand.
His body convulsed. Fire tore through his veins, burning, twisting, reshaping. His scream was not entirely human.
The Riftspawn turned to finish him—but Kael was already moving. His body blurred, faster than thought, his broken spear driving straight into the creature's eye. With a thunderous shriek, the beast toppled, thrashing in its death throes.
When silence fell, Kael was left standing, chest heaving, his hands slick with both beast blood and his own. His reflection in a shattered window stared back at him—eyes faintly glowing red.