Auren lay sprawled across the blood-soaked floor of the giant hall, motionless, like a broken blade cast aside. The battle raged on without mercy. Dax, locked in his Terminator form, clashed against Ryzin, his iron body colliding with water-born power. Yet Ryzin wasn't even serious—he toyed with Dax, as if the fight was a cruel game.
The only forces holding the battlefield together were Nyra's towering beasts, roaring and thrashing, and Nova's endless canvas creations, painted fury turning into flesh and steel.
In the shadows of the hall, Vivi crouched low, trembling. She had thought this would be an adventure, something like play. But this was no game. Blood sprayed across the stone like paint. The stench of broken flesh and scattered bones filled the air, painting the truth of war on her soul. Her hands shook. Her eyes refused to blink. Fear gripped her tighter than chains.
And then—Nyra's voice shattered the suffocating dread, raw and desperate, rising from her very core:
