Zarin.
The man who arrived one night—and turned life into something unrecognizable.
In a single moment, we stopped being civilians.
We became targets.
Eric hung limp in the grip of the shadow behind him, his body barely moving, head tilted at an unnatural angle. He was inside it—half-consumed by the darkness.
The thing holding him didn't breathe. Didn't move.
It simply existed.
Watching.
Waiting.
Zarin stood a few steps ahead of it, hands clasped behind his back, posture relaxed—as if none of this required effort.
As if we didn't matter.
Amanda and her father were gone.
They had to be.
That was the mission.
That was the promise.
"Zarin…"
Master Xavier's voice came low and controlled. But beneath it lingered something sharp.
History.
Zarin's gaze shifted deliberately.
His eyes met Xavier's—and the air changed.
No words passed between them.
But something old… something unresolved… pressed into the space between them.
"You won't find what you're looking for," Xavier said. "The stones are far from here. You'll never have them."
No doubt.
No hesitation.
Zarin stepped forward.
Just one step.
And every instinct in my body screamed.
Something moved in my peripheral vision.
Right. Low.
A body—still… but not anymore.
The Purge officer.
Emma.
She lay half-buried in dirt and shattered stone, blood smeared across her face—but her hand had already found her weapon.
She raised it.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Aimed.
Zarin didn't look at her.
Didn't acknowledge her.
"Debate. Resistance…"
His voice was calm. Almost thoughtful.
"If you believe that matters here…"
Another step.
Closer.
The gun trembled in Emma's grip.
"You're mistaken."
The shot rang out.
The shadow moved.
Certain.
It rose behind Zarin, its form stretching and distorting mid-motion—its arm reshaping into a curved, gleaming blade.
One swing.
Clean.
For a moment—
nothing happened.
Then—
Emma's arms dropped.
The gun hit the ground with a dull clatter.
A second later, the scream followed.
She collapsed forward, choking, blood spilling into the dirt as her body convulsed violently—reality catching up too late.
No one moved.
No one could.
Zarin turned.
Not in surprise.
Not in reaction.
Just because he was finished with the moment.
His eyes settled on her broken form.
Quiet.
Unreadable.
"Humans fascinate me."
He tilted his head slightly.
"Always mistaking timing for courage."
Silence swallowed the clearing.
My stomach twisted.
Emma hadn't just failed.
She had misunderstood what she was facing.
Then Zarin turned—
not toward us.
Toward the woods.
My chest tightened.
No…
Amanda.
He didn't move.
Didn't chase.
He just… looked.
And somehow—
that was worse.
"Finish her."
The shadow didn't hesitate.
It already understood.
Behind us, the blade shifted—darkness folding into shape as it angled toward Emma's neck.
I moved.
Not because she was one of us.
Not because she deserved it.
But because she hadn't aimed at us.
She had aimed at him.
That changed things.
The blade dropped.
I reacted.
"Hunter—!"
Master Xavier's warning came too late.
I burst forward anyway, magic surging through my legs as I threw myself between Emma and the descending blade.
Steel collided with shadow.
Sparks exploded across the clearing.
The impact nearly buckled my knees.
Behind me, Zayn moved instantly.
He slid across the dirt, catching Emma before the shockwave could throw her again.
Her scream broke apart into ragged breaths as he dragged her away from the battlefield.
"Stay down," he hissed.
The shadow attacked again.
I barely twisted aside as the black blade tore through the space where my head had been.
"Move!" Jace yelled.
We surged forward in perfect synchronization.
The figure moved to meet us, its body cloaked in smoke-like darkness—but beneath the shifting shadow, something physical still existed.
Iris struck first.
She slammed both palms against the ground.
Frost exploded outward beneath the creature, racing across the earth before climbing violently up its legs, freezing the lower half of its body solid.
The shadow jerked in surprise.
Too slow.
Katara's flames crashed into it a second later, fire erupting across its body in a violent burst.
The creature reeled—
And Annabeth was already there.
She slid low across the frozen ground before driving a devastating kick into its face.
The impact sent it staggering backward.
We moved without hesitation.
Without confusion.
Like each of us already knew where the others would be.
Eight against one.
Even the shadow seemed to realize it.
Suddenly, the figure drove its blade into its own chest.
The darkness split apart.
Slowly—
Horribly—
Two more heads emerged from within its body, followed by crawling forms dragging themselves free from the tearing shadow.
Three figures stepped forward.
Three weapons formed.
The pressure in the clearing tripled instantly.
We tightened our formation.
Ready to face the devils before us.
-----
Zarin scoffed softly at the situation before turning away, continuing toward the forest.
Toward the Vyre Stones.
The Guardians were nothing more than noise to him.
"Zarin!"
The name thundered across the clearing.
Slowly, Zarin stopped.
Then turned.
Xavier stood facing him, cloak shifting violently beneath the growing wind.
His right hand rose before him.
Calm.
Steady.
"Return… Aurelion!"
The air trembled.
Golden magic erupted from Xavier's palm, gathering into shape.
Not forged—
remembered.
A sword emerged piece by piece, as though reality itself was rebuilding something ancient.
Its hilt curved into the shape of a dragon, silver scales etched with glowing markings pulsing like a heartbeat. At the center of the crossguard rested an empty circular core—a place meant for a Vyre Stone.
The blade reflected moonlight like still water.
Power rolled from it in waves.
Old power.
The kind that once stood against kings… and monsters alike.
At the sight of it, a smirk touched the corner of Zarin's lips.
"So," he murmured.
"You still carry it."
Xavier lowered the blade toward him.
"You'll take no step further."
Then he moved.
The ground shattered beneath his feet as he launched forward, crossing the distance in a single burst.
Xavier struck first.
Zarin met the attack effortlessly.
Darkness folded into his hand, forming a blade of his own—a black weapon crowned with a skull-shaped guard, ancient symbols carved along its silver edge like cursed scripture.
Their swords collided.
BOOM.
The shockwave ripped through the clearing violently.
Trees bent.
The earth cracked.
Above them—the sky answered.