Edrin had always believed that running away was a perfectly valid life strategy.
It had worked for him for years.
Avoid danger. Avoid responsibility. Avoid anything that looked remotely like effort.
Unfortunately, none of those options seemed available anymore.
"…Okay," he whispered to himself, gripping the sword tighter than necessary. "New strategy. Try not to die."
The Invader stepped fully into the clearing.
It was larger than the previous ones—its form more solid, less flickering. Dark, jagged shapes formed something resembling armor around its body, and its glowing eyes burned with unsettling focus.
It looked directly at Edrin.
"Of course it's me," he muttered.
Lyra stepped slightly in front of him, her hand glowing with magic. "Stay focused. This one's stronger."
"That's exactly what I was afraid of hearing."
The creature moved.
Not as erratic as before.
This one was deliberate.
Each step pressed into the ground, leaving faint cracks in the earth beneath it.
Edrin swallowed. "It looks confident."
"It should be," Lyra said.
"That's not reassuring."
The Invader lunged.
Lyra reacted instantly, releasing a burst of light that collided with the creature's chest. It staggered—but didn't fall.
Edrin's eyes widened. "It didn't explode."
"Not everything will," Lyra replied sharply. "Move!"
The creature swung an arm of shifting darkness toward them.
Edrin's body reacted before his thoughts could.
He stepped to the side.
Clumsy.
Unbalanced.
But just enough.
The attack missed him.
Edrin blinked. "…I did it again."
"Keep doing it!" Lyra shouted.
"I'm trying!"
The Invader turned, faster this time, striking again.
Edrin moved—
Late.
The edge of the attack grazed him, sending him stumbling backward.
"Ow! That counts as a hit!" he protested.
"Stay up!" Lyra said.
"I am up! I'm just—briefly reconsidering everything!"
The creature advanced.
Edrin tightened his grip on the sword.
His heart pounded in his chest.
Don't run, he told himself. Don't run. Don't—
He almost ran.
Instead, he forced himself to step forward.
It felt wrong.
Deeply, completely wrong.
But he did it anyway.
The Invader struck again.
Edrin dodged.
Barely.
Closer this time.
Too close.
But still—
He didn't fall.
"…Okay," he breathed. "That was slightly intentional."
Lyra noticed. "Good! Now attack!"
"Right! Attacking!"
Edrin charged.
Not gracefully.
Not skillfully.
But faster than before.
He swung.
The Invader blocked.
The impact jolted through his arms, nearly knocking the sword from his grip.
"I don't like that it can do that!" he shouted.
"Adjust!" Lyra called.
"I don't know how!"
The creature counterattacked.
Edrin panicked—
And this time, he dropped low, almost crouching as the strike passed over him.
He froze for a split second.
"…That wasn't a fall," he said in disbelief.
"No," Lyra said. "That was control."
Edrin looked up.
The Invader's core flickered faintly within its chest.
Visible.
Exposed.
For just a moment.
Edrin took a breath.
Then moved.
Forward.
He didn't trip.
He didn't hesitate.
He drove the sword upward—
And struck.
A burst of light erupted from the creature's core.
The Invader let out a distorted roar—
Then shattered.
Fragments of shadow scattered into the air before dissolving completely.
Silence.
Edrin remained frozen in place, sword still raised.
"…I did that on purpose," he said slowly.
Lyra lowered her hand, watching him carefully.
"Yes," she said.
Edrin looked at her.
"…I actually did that on purpose."
"Yes."
He stared at the spot where the creature had been.
Then at his sword.
Then back at Lyra.
"…That's new."
A small smile appeared on Lyra's face.
"Very new," she agreed.
Edrin let out a shaky laugh, lowering the sword.
"I'm not sure how I feel about this," he admitted.
"Terrified?" Lyra suggested.
"Yes."
"But still standing."
Edrin nodded.
"…Still standing."
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
The weight of what had just happened settled in.
Not an accident.
Not luck.
Something else.
Something real.
Then Edrin looked down at his hands.
"They're still shaking," he said.
"That's normal," Lyra replied.
"I don't think I'm ready for stronger ones."
"You don't have a choice."
Edrin sighed. "I was afraid you'd say that."
Lyra turned toward the horizon, her expression growing serious again.
"They're getting stronger," she said quietly.
Edrin followed her gaze.
"…So am I," he said.
Lyra glanced at him.
For once—
She didn't argue.
But far above them, hidden behind the clouds, the sky shifted.
Another crack forming.
Wider.
Darker.
And waiting.