The street was drowning in chaos.
Every time they cut one of the Krythar down, two more seemed to take its place. Smoke clogged the air, firelight twisted into shadows, and the ground trembled under the alien march.
Eren's body screamed in protest—lungs burning, muscles heavy, vision swimming. His powers flared and faltered, wild as a storm he couldn't control. Every shove, every strike drained him faster.
The rubble-man staggered, blood streaking down his forehead. His arm trembled as he tried to lift another slab of concrete—only for it to collapse uselessly at his feet.
The wind-teen had a slash across his side, his clothes soaked in red. Each movement made him gasp in pain, his wind attacks weaker, shorter.
The fire-woman still swung, but her flame-pipe dimmed, its glow flickering. She swayed on her feet, teeth clenched, refusing to drop.
They were breaking.
And the Krythar knew it.
One of the soldiers—a larger one, its armor jagged and its blade thrumming with green energy—stepped forward. Its eyes locked on Eren, and a low, inhuman growl rumbled from its chest.
Eren's legs nearly buckled. He wanted to run. His body begged him to run. But behind him were the others—bleeding, barely standing, but still fighting.
If he ran, they all died.
The monster charged. Its blade carved a green arc through the smoke, screaming toward his head.
Move.
Eren threw up his hands. The pressure burst out—but weak, sputtering like a dying flame. The blade plowed straight through, close enough that he felt its heat sear past his cheek.
Panic tore through him. His chest constricted, breath ragged.
Too weak. Too slow. Too late.
The fire-woman shouted, "Eren!"
Something inside him snapped.
Not fear. Not despair. Something deeper—raw, primal.
His fist clenched, and for the first time, he didn't just release the energy. He focused it. Pushed it. Amplified it.
The air in front of his hand warped—then blazed with sudden light. A glowing circle etched itself in the air, its lines intricate, spinning with impossible symbols. Power roared through his arm, flooding his veins with fire and lightning.
Eren screamed and drove his fist forward.
The magic circle ignited.
His punch landed with an explosion like thunder. The air cracked, pavement shattered, and the Krythar's armored chest imploded as if struck by a wrecking ball. The creature was lifted off its feet and hurled back, smashing through two cars before collapsing into a heap of twisted metal and silence.
Smoke billowed from Eren's fist, the circle fading as fast as it had come. His knuckles trembled, but the alien was gone.
One strike. One hit. One kill.
The others stared, wide-eyed and breathless.
The rubble-man whispered, "…What the hell was that?"
Eren's chest rose and fell in ragged gasps. His hand shook, the energy inside him still buzzing like an untamed storm.
He didn't have an answer.
All he knew was that for the first time since the invasion began… he wasn't just surviving.
He was fighting back.