Georges Mission
As George sprinted through the flickering shadows of the facility, the cold weight of the ancient longsword felt more like an extension of his own arm than a burden. The silence of the hall was shattered by the frantic, crackling resonance of Rimona's voice echoing from his Tele-stone ring.
"George, you have to make your way to Level Six. Quickly!"
"What's going on, Rimona?" George asked, his breath coming in ragged bursts as he rounded a corner, his boots skidding on polished stone.
"It's my father," her voice trembled, a rare break in her professional veneer. "His health monitor on his Tele-stone.. It's weak, George. Too weak." On the other end, George could hear the rhythmic, lightning-fast tapping of her fingers as she tore through the facility's remaining security perimeters. "Oh god... no."
"whats wrong Rimona? talk to me," George pressed, his heart hammering against his ribs.
"My father... he was their target all along," she whispered, the realization dawning with a sickening clarity. "I couldn't understand why they'd hit a research facility instead of the Academy or the Castle. I thought it was a weapon or an artifact, but it's him. They want his mind. George, please! If they take him, the havoc they could create with his research... it would be catastrophic."
The Level Six Gauntlet
George's mind raced. Dr. Falcon-bridge wasn't just a researcher; he was the cornerstone of the facility's advanced magic-tech. As he reached the stairwell to the sixth level, he slammed into a group of familiar faces: Davina, Onyx, Jamil, and Claudius. They looked battered, their scholarly attire singed and dusty, but their eyes held a newfound steel.
"George! Where are you headed?" Davina asked, her hand already glowing with the faint, hexagonal shimmer of her barrier magic.
As George breathlessly explained the situation, the group didn't hesitate. "We're with you," Onyx growled, his massive frame shifting as he cracked his knuckles, the ground beneath him vibrating in sympathy.
"George, be careful," Faust's voice cut in through the Tele-stone. "I'm tracking movement. You have multiple Hunters closing in on your rear. They're coming fast."
The air in the corridor suddenly turned frigid as the Hunters emerged, their matte-black armor absorbing the dim emergency lights. The students pivoted, forming a defensive ring. Spells crackled into existence, casting a frenzied, strobing light across the walls. Multiple Hunters lunged at Davina. She stood her ground, her face a mask of focus as she projected a series of interlocking barriers that hummed under the impact of the Hunters' blades. From the rubble of a collapsed wall, Onyx manifested a massive fist of compacted earth, countering a lunging assailant with a devastating punch that sent the Hunter spiraling through a laboratory door. To their left, a Hunter moved with serpentine grace toward Jamil. Davina flicked her wrist, launching a protective barrier that intercepted the strike just as Jamil surged forward. Using a lethal combination of his own aura and the opening Davina provided, Jamil spiked the Hunter into the floor, incapacitating him instantly. Meanwhile, Claudius moved with refined efficiency. He launched a volley of wind balls, controlling their trajectory with a conductor's precision as they wheezed through the air, knocking out two more Hunters with concussive force.
"George, go! Get to Dr. Falcon-bridge! We'll hold the line!" Davina yelled, her barrier flaring as she repelled another strike.
"Don't let them win, George!" Onyx added, his voice a low rumble.
"Yeah, we'll be right behind you as soon as we finish cleaning up these guys!" Jamil retorted with a confident smirk.
George nodded, a surge of adrenaline masking his fatigue. He turned and bolted toward the heart of Level Six.
The Extraction
The hallway became a blur of acrid magic and the screech of metal on metal. As George crossed the threshold of the main research hall, he was ambushed. Three Hunters dropped from the ventilation shafts, their speed and ferocity akin to predatory felines. The first assailant swiped at his throat. George rolled beneath the strike, countering with a sharp wind blast that sent the Hunter skidding backward. A second attacked from his blind spot, but George channeled his wind magic to create a localized pressure wave, pushing the Hunter aside just enough to pivot and fire another blast that sent the man flying into the reinforced walls. Without a moment's rest, George gripped the ancient sword with both hands. He channeled his wind magic into the blade, the runes glowing a fierce, vibrant blue. With a powerful thrust, he unleashed a wind slash—a pressurized crescent of air—that tore through the air and neutralized the final assailant. He burst into the main hall, but his heart sank. A massive hole had been torn through the ceiling, exposing the twilight sky. Dr. Falcon-bridge was there, bound and gagged, his head lolling in unconsciousness. He was being hoisted upward by two Hunters who were themselves being pulled toward an old broken down magical quadcopter. The aircraft was a marvel of chipped dark, metallic filigree and glowing cyan rotors. Its panoramic glass canopy reflected the dying light of the sun as it prepared to ascend, its engines humming with a deep, vibrational thrum.
"No!" George screamed, leaping over a pile of debris, his hand outstretched.
He was mere yards from the extraction point when the air temperature plummeted. A shadow conjured itself from the cornor of the corridor —a presence so cold it felt like a physical weight on his lungs. George skidded to a halt, the ancient sword raised in a defensive guard. He felt the icy, predatory breath of something dark and hungry blocking his path, standing between him and the man he had been sent to save.