The Gate loomed before them, a swirling vortex of blue and red light.
It was beautiful in a terrible way—energy crackling at its edges, warping the air around it. The ground beneath it was blackened, scorched, as if the earth itself was trying to pull away.
"Borderline Class Four," Marian said, her usual grin absent. "Maybe higher. The Abyssals inside won't be pushovers."
Beatrice didn't hesitate. "We've come this far. We're not stopping now."
She stepped through the Gate.
Here goes nothing Hiro thought as he followed right behind her, the familiar sensation of spatial distortion washing over him—his bones compressed, his stomach lurched and then he was through.
Marian came last, her eyes scanning the shimmering portal before she crossed. This is their fight, she reminded herself. But if something goes wrong...
She pushed the thought away and stepped into the unknown.
---
The other side was worse than the Wasteland.
A purple sky stretched overhead, streaked with black clouds that moved too fast. The ground was soft, almost spongy covered in a layer of gray fungus that crunched underfoot. And everywhere, there were cocoons.
Pale, pulsing cocoons, attached to the walls of a massive cavern. Inside them, shadows moved.
"Abyssal caterpillars," Scott said, his gorilla form tensed. "They're not fully grown yet. But they will be soon."
As if on cue, the cocoons began to split.
One by one, the caterpillars emerged—each the size of a large dog, their bodies covered in spines, their mouths ringed with mandibles. They moved in a writhing mass, dozens of them, their eyes glowing purple.
"Formation!" Beatrice shouted. "Don't let them swarm us!"
The caterpillars charged.
Scott met the first wave head-on, his metal-infused fur deflecting their mandibles while his fists crushed their bodies. Winston weaved between them, claws slashing. Stanley's horns impaled three at once.
Hiro fought alongside them, his tails lashing, his claws finding the soft undersides of the caterpillars. But there were so many.
Marian hung back at the edge of the chaos, arms crossed, watching. Her role was to observe, to step in only if things went catastrophically wrong.
But her eyes kept drifting to Hiro.
The way he moved through the swarm. The way his tails flowed like liquid silver, each one independent, each one deadly. The way he never stopped, never hesitated, even when the caterpillars pressed close.
He's changed, she thought. Two weeks ago, he would have panicked.
A caterpillar lunged at his blind spot. Marian's body tensed but Hiro's tail whipped around and crushed its skull without him even looking.
He didn't need her.
She didn't know why that made her chest ache a bit.
---
Beatrice stood at the center of the chaos, directing the flow.
"Felicia, Ramona—push left! Sally, cover the rear! Scott, don't let them surround Hiro!"
Her voice was calm. Commanding. Nothing like the desperate woman who had cheated with illegal knuckles.
A caterpillar lunged at her from behind. She didn't turn—she stepped forward, let it pass, then grabbed its tail and swung it into another caterpillar. Both exploded in a spray of ichor.
"Two for one," she muttered.
Hiro's Severing Claw tore through a cluster of caterpillars, buying them breathing room. But more kept coming.
"There's too many!" Sally shouted.
Beatrice's jaw tightened. "Then we kill them faster."
She charged into the thick of the swarm, her fists a blur. Each punch was precise, targeting a weak point, then moving to the next. She wasn't just fighting. She was dismantling.
Hiro watched their teamwork—the way they moved around each other, covering blind spots, setting up kills. It wasn't elegant, but it was effective.
A caterpillar slipped through the formation, heading straight for Hiro's flank. Marian's hand twitched toward her brass knuckles—
But Beatrice was there. Her fist connected with the creature's skull before it could reach him.
"Keep moving, fox!" she shouted.
Hiro nodded, already turning to face the next wave.
Marian exhaled slowly. She hadn't even realized she'd been holding her breath.
---
Sally stumbled, a caterpillar lunging at her exposed back. Marian's fist connected with its skull before it could reach her.
"Thanks," Sally gasped.
"Don't thank me." Marian pulled her up. "Just stay alive."
She glanced at Hiro across the cavern. He was holding his own, tails lashing, claws tearing.
Good.
She didn't know why she cared. But she did.
Sally caught her looking. "You're watching him."
"I'm watching everyone."
"Sure." Sally's lips twitched. "That's why you haven't looked away from him for the past five minutes."
Marian's cheeks flushed. "Shut up and fight."
---
The caterpillars began to thin.
Beatrice took a moment to catch her breath, hands on her knees. "Is that... all of them?"
Scott sniffed the air. "No. Something else is coming."
Then came the soldiers.
They weren't caterpillars—they were baby centipedes, Sally muttered, her voice trembling.
Larger. Meaner. Armored in corrupted chitin that shrugged off weaker blows. Scott met them head-on, his metal-infused fur deflecting their claws while his fists caved in their skulls. Stanley charged through their ranks, horns lowered, sending bodies flying. Marcus constricted, crushed, discarded.
Hiro fought alongside them, his tails lashing, his claws finding soft spots between armor plates.
"These things have no end,"Hiro muttered as he continued to cut down any centipede in front of him.
He wasn't the strongest fighter here, not yet at least but he was faster than he'd been two weeks ago. More precise.
Marian watched him cut through two baby centipedes in quick succession, his movements fluid, almost graceful.
She remembered the first time she'd seen him transform—clumsy, desperate, barely able to control his own tails. Now he moved like he'd been born in this form.
Yurei's training, she thought. And mine.
Pride swelled in her chest. She pushed it down.
But then the ground trembled.
"It's coming," Maria whispering beneath her breath.
Boom!!!
From the far end of the cavern, a massive shape emerged. It was a centipede but not like any centipede Hiro had seen, almost reaching the size of the Abyssal spider.
Its body was segmented, armored in black chitin that gleamed with purple energy. Its legs moved in a wave, hundreds of them, and its head was crowned with antennae that crackled with lightning.
The Gatekeeper had arrived.
"Peak Class Four," Marian said quietly, stepping forward. "Maybe touching Class Five."
Beatrice looked at her unit—at their torn clothes, their slight wounds, their exhausted faces.
Then she looked at the centipede.
"Everyone," she said, "on me."
Marian moved to stand beside Hiro. Her shoulder brushed against his. He glanced at her, surprised.
"Just in case," she said.
He nodded. "Just in case."
Neither of them moved away.
The centipede roared—a sound like grinding metal and charged.
Marian's hand found Hiro's shoulder. A brief squeeze. Then she let go.
"Don't die, fox."
"Same to you."
She almost smiled.
Then the world exploded into chaos.