The northern district of Aurealis was the epicenter of panic. Reports of sudden respiratory collapses arrived at the clinic every few minutes. Lysandre, accompanied by Elira and Maël, moved swiftly through the streets, coordinating teams of healers, mages, and volunteers.
— It's spreading faster than yesterday, Elira said, adjusting the amplification runes. Each wave seems to anticipate our interventions.
— Then we need to be proactive, Lysandre replied. Every patient we save teaches the fog, but every delay gives it new knowledge.
They reached a crowded residential block. Residents gasped, clutching their chests, some already unconscious. Lysandre immediately assessed the situation, prioritizing the most critical cases.
— Stabilize those nearest the center first, he commanded. We can't save everyone at once, but we can contain the main surge.
Elira activated a network of runes around the building. They pulsed in harmony with the victims' breaths, forming a protective barrier. The fog lashed against it, swerving and twisting, testing weaknesses.
— It's testing the barriers, Maël observed. Like a predator gauging defenses.
— Exactly, Lysandre replied. And we'll respond before it can strike again.
The first wave of patients was stabilized through rapid interventions, combining precise medical treatment with magical reinforcement. Lysandre's hands moved with surgical efficiency, every movement calculated, every breath analyzed.
Suddenly, the fog surged again, this time more focused, concentrating on the unprotected areas. Lysandre adjusted his strategy, directing healers and volunteers to strengthen vulnerable zones.
— Remember, every breath counts! he shouted. One lapse, and we lose lives!
The fog hesitated, then shifted its attention, adapting to the new pattern. Lysandre watched carefully, taking notes mentally and physically on every change in behavior.
— It's learning faster than anticipated, Elira whispered.
— Then we must evolve faster, Lysandre said grimly. Precision, coordination, and anticipation—that's the only way to survive.
After hours of intense effort, the northern district was stabilized, though exhaustion weighed heavily on all. The fog receded slightly, but Lysandre knew this was only temporary.
— It's not gone, he said quietly, looking over the district. It's learning. And next time, it will be smarter.
The city sighed with relief, but Lysandre understood: the real battle had just begun. Every wave, every breath, every decision would be tested—and the Fog was only the beginning.