The black-robed Herald moved with the soulless precision of a clockwork mechanism, its steps silent, its body a silhouette of impossible angles and disjointed limbs. The air in the narrow alley was thick with the weight of its presence, a cold so deep it seemed to sap the heat from Kairen's bones. He didn't hesitate. His blade, forged of cold steel and tempered by endless conflict, sliced through the air, sparking against the Herald's black steel arm. The sound was a harsh, discordant ring, like a cracked bell—a sound that made his teeth ache.
The Herald didn't flinch. It retaliated with a terrifying speed, its movements not a series of motions but a single, fluid blur. Kairen was forced onto the defensive, each strike parried, each thrust blocked. He was fighting a machine, and he knew he could not win on strength or speed alone. His focus was on the Herald's face, the maddening, spinning hands of the clock dial that now seemed to be counting down his own life.
Beside him, Safaa stood frozen, her eyes fixed on the Herald. She clutched the silver pendant at her chest, her knuckles white. The gear had begun to glow, a fiery orange that bled through the fabric of her cloak and burned her palm. It was the pendulum's whisper, a call for a power she did not yet understand. Her body convulsed, a violent shiver that was not of cold but of raw, untamed energy. A surge of power lashed out from her, a wave of pure, temporal force that hit the Herald mid-step, freezing it instantly. Its body was a statue of distorted limbs, the spinning hands on its face locked in place.
Kairen seized the moment without hesitation. He brought his blade down with all his might, slashing deep across the Herald's arm. There was no blood, only a shower of black dust and a terrible, grinding sound. The Herald shuddered violently as the temporal field shattered, staggering back a step.
But the reprieve was fleeting. The shadows in the alley thickened, gathering around the gash in its arm. The black dust re-knitted, rebuilding its form as if the wound had never been. The Herald began to move again, its head tilting, the wild hands on its face spinning faster in a renewed fury.
Safaa's knees buckled. The power had been too much. Her body, her soul, had paid a price. She collapsed, unconscious, the pendant's glow dimming to a dull, amber ember. Kairen swore, a low, desperate curse. The Herald was regenerating. He couldn't fight it and protect Safaa. There was only one way out. He scooped her up and, with a precision born of necessity, lunged toward a hidden passage he had marked earlier—a rusted, discarded grate in the wall. He slid through, pulling the grate closed with a shuddering clang just as the Herald reached the entrance. The sound was a final, terrible bell. Each tick of the Herald's gears echoed in the darkness of their narrow escape, a cold, relentless reminder that the hunt had just begun.