The aqueduct district shook as if the bones of Velrith were splintering. Waterlines burst, spraying arcs through fractured stone. Every heartbeat carried with it the vibration of something vast clawing its way into reality.
The Rift widened with a shriek like tearing metal. The light was blinding — violet shot through with threads of black, pulsing like veins of an open wound.
And then the creature came.
The Monster That Shouldn't Exist
It was not a spawn. Not even close.
The thing that emerged was colossal, dragging itself into the tunnels with limbs of jagged obsidian bone and sinew that smoked with Rift corruption. Its head was a crown of antlers that scraped the ceiling, each tipped with glowing eyes. From its torso spilled chains of writhing shadows, snapping like whips.
Where its claws touched stone, reality cracked.
Darius Heth, bloodied but still standing, fell to his knees. His sword clattered uselessly at his side. "Gods… what is that?"
The Riftborn horror roared. The sound rattled every rib, every tooth, as if the monster's voice was inside the hunters themselves.
Vanguard's Fire
Kael's fire blazed hotter, defiance etched in every line of his body. "I don't care what it is — we're putting it down."
He launched forward, gauntlets igniting. His flames struck the monster's chest, searing deep — but the beast barely flinched. It turned, one antlered head snapping toward him with too many eyes blinking in unison.
"Kael!" Seren's voice rang out as she unleashed a razor wave of wind, slicing into the beast's exposed sinew. Ira's chains darted in, binding its limb for a heartbeat before being shredded by a single flick.
Kael rolled, barely avoiding the crushing sweep of its claw. His grin was feral, but inside, adrenaline warred with dread. This wasn't just S-rank. This was something beyond classification.
Astraeus' Shadows
Lucien advanced like ice in motion, calm where Kael was fire. He lifted a hand, and the tunnel plunged into darkness. His shadows coiled, forming spears that hurled into the beast's chest.
For a moment, they pierced — black against black. But then the Riftborn thing laughed. Its chest split open, revealing another maw, teeth of jagged stone snapping around Lucien's shadows like brittle twigs.
Lucien's silver eyes narrowed. He did not falter, though inside his pulse quickened. That power… it was too close. Too familiar.
Eira hurled frost to slow the beast's movement, Veyra layered illusions to confuse its vision, Caspian's runes burned bright — but the monster tore through them as if swatting flies.
Still, Lucien stood unyielding, forcing his squad into precise coordination. "Do not scatter. Focus strikes. Its body can be worn down."
The Clash
The two leaders moved in tandem without meaning to. Kael's fire scorched a wound into the beast's leg just as Lucien's shadows lashed the opposite side, severing a joint. The creature stumbled, shrieking, its antlers crashing into the ceiling.
But instead of collapsing, it adapted. Shadows surged from its wounds, forming smaller spawn that scuttled toward the hunters like spiders made of tar.
The aqueduct exploded into chaos — Astraeus and Vanguard back to back, not because they wanted to, but because there was no choice.
Kael snarled over his shoulder, sweat slick on his brow. "Try to keep up, Rael."
Lucien's reply was ice. "Do try not to get killed, Ryven."
Their squads exchanged glances — irritation, awe, disbelief — as their leaders fought like two halves of a storm, clashing styles forcing the Riftborn monster into retreat for the first time.
The World Above
In Velrith's streets, citizens screamed as the tremors grew. The feeds showed fire and shadow carving the darkness below.
Commentators shouted over each other, breathless:
"They're fighting it together—""No, not together, just… aligned by necessity—""Look at that strike! Look at the precision—""The Fire of the People and the Untouchable Shadow—gods, they might actually kill it—"
Forums ignited. Fan factions screamed at one another. Was Kael carrying Lucien? Was Lucien protecting Kael? Was this rivalry or an alliance? Conspiracy threads buzzed with slowed footage, circling moments where their attacks overlapped, where their eyes almost met.
It wasn't just a battle. It was theater, legend, obsession — broadcast in real time to a city that couldn't look away.
A Crack in the Mask
The monster reeled, chains snapping wildly, its antlers crashing through stone. Lucien stepped forward, his shadows surging deeper, darker, more violent than intended. His chest ached. His veins burned.
The Riftborn thing roared again — and this time, it sounded almost like laughter.
Lucien faltered for an instant, his shadows turning jagged, unnatural.
Kael saw it. His golden eyes locked on Lucien, his flame halting for a split second.
There was something wrong with Rael's power. Something inhuman.
Before he could speak, the monster lashed out. Kael shoved forward instinctively, fire blazing, intercepting a chain meant to impale Lucien. The impact hurled him into the wall, stone cracking beneath him.
Lucien's shadows surged in retaliation, ripping the chain apart. He turned, silver eyes flickering — not with thanks, but something unreadable, something caught between fury and fear.
The Rift Howls
The beast collapsed to its knees, half its form smoldering, half dissolving in shadow. But the Rift behind it pulsed harder, wider, hungrier.
This wasn't over. Not by a long stretch.
And somewhere deep inside the darkness, a whisper coiled in Lucien's mind:
Yes… let it out. Show them what you are.
Lucien's jaw clenched. He shoved the voice down. But Kael's gaze was still on him, burning hotter than any flame.