Edrin felt it before he understood it.
Not a pull.
Not pressure.
A cut.
"…No," he whispered.
The moment the figure's hand moved—
The connection snapped.
Not completely.
Not cleanly.
But enough to hurt.
Edrin staggered, clutching his chest.
"…It's cutting them off!"
Lyra reacted instantly.
Magic surged—
Not outward—
But inward—
Reinforcing the fragile threads between them.
"Hold it!" she shouted.
"I'm trying!" Edrin gasped.
The echoes flickered violently—
Their forms distorting—
Stretching—
Some vanishing for a split second—
Then reappearing—
Unstable.
The figure didn't rush.
Didn't attack.
It simply adjusted its hand—
And cut again.
Sharper this time.
More precise.
Edrin cried out.
"…Stop that!"
Ronan stepped forward.
"If hitting it doesn't work—"
He swung again—
Harder—
Faster—
The blade passed through once more.
No resistance.
No effect.
"…I hate this kind of enemy!"
Kael moved next—
Not striking the body—
But the space around it—
Precise—
Calculated—
Trying to disrupt whatever it was doing.
For a moment—
The air rippled.
The figure's hand faltered.
The cut weakened.
Edrin felt it.
"…That helped!"
Kael nodded.
"…Then we target the effect."
Lyra adjusted her magic—
No longer just supporting—
Now interfering—
Layering energy between the figure and the echoes.
The next cut came—
But this time—
It slowed.
Distorted.
Edrin clenched his teeth.
"…Okay."
A breath.
"…We can block it."
The figure tilted its head slightly.
Observing.
Processing.
Then—
It raised its other hand.
Edrin's eyes widened.
"…Oh no."
Two cuts.
At once.
Stronger.
Sharper.
The connection fractured again—
Worse than before—
Several echoes flickered violently—
One—
Vanished.
Edrin froze.
"…No."
Silence.
A gap formed where it had stood.
Empty.
Gone.
Edrin's chest tightened painfully.
"…We lost one."
Lyra's voice was strained.
"…Edrin—"
"I know!"
The figure spoke calmly.
"Correction proceeding."
Edrin's hands shook.
"…You call that correction?"
The figure didn't answer.
It didn't need to.
It simply raised both hands again.
Preparing another strike.
Edrin stepped forward—
Closer to it—
Closer to the edge—
"…No more."
Ronan blinked. "What are you doing?"
"I'm stopping it!"
"That's the plan!"
Edrin shook his head.
"…Not like this."
The figure's gaze shifted to him.
"You cannot prevent loss."
Edrin clenched his jaw.
"…Maybe not."
A pause.
"…But I can stand in the way."
Lyra's eyes widened.
"…Edrin, don't—"
Too late.
The figure moved.
Both hands cutting forward—
Not at the echoes—
At him.
Edrin didn't dodge.
Didn't move.
He stepped into it.
"…No!"
The cut hit.
Not physical.
Not visible.
But real.
Edrin gasped—
His entire body trembling—
As something tore through him—
Not flesh—
Not bone—
Something deeper.
"…That hurts," he choked.
The connection flared violently—
Destabilizing—
Then—
Reforming.
The echoes steadied.
The cut—
Didn't reach them.
It hit him instead.
Lyra rushed forward.
"Edrin!"
"I'm okay!" he said quickly.
"…I think."
Ronan stared.
"…You just took that hit."
Edrin nodded weakly.
"…Yeah."
A breath.
"…I don't recommend it."
The figure paused.
For the first time—
Truly paused.
Its head tilted again.
More sharply now.
"You redirected correction."
Edrin managed a small, shaky smile.
"…Yeah."
A pause.
"…That's also something I do."
Kael stepped beside him.
"…You changed the target."
Edrin nodded.
"…If it can't cut them…"
Another breath.
"…It cuts me instead."
Lyra's voice tightened.
"That's not sustainable."
Edrin shrugged weakly.
"…Neither is letting them disappear."
The figure stepped closer.
Now directly in front of him.
Studying.
Analyzing.
Not attacking.
Not yet.
"You accept loss."
Edrin shook his head.
"…No."
A pause.
"…I choose it."
Silence.
The void behind the figure trembled.
Not violently.
Not aggressively.
But… uncertain.
The figure raised its hand again.
Slower this time.
More deliberate.
Edrin braced himself.
"…Alright."
A breath.
"…Let's see how many I can take."
Ronan stepped forward.
"You're not doing that alone."
Lyra moved beside him.
"None of us are."
Kael raised his blade.
"Then we share the burden."
Edrin blinked.
"…That sounds familiar."
Ronan grinned.
"Yeah."
A pause.
"…It's our thing now."
Edrin laughed weakly.
"…Great."
The figure's hand hovered—
Not striking yet.
Observing.
Recalculating.
And for the first time—
It didn't immediately act.
It hesitated.
Because the rule had changed.
Because the target had changed.
Because what it expected—
No longer worked the same way.
Edrin exhaled slowly.
"…Okay."
A faint smile formed.
"…Now we're getting somewhere."
But deep down—
He knew.
This wasn't over.
The figure wasn't done.
It was just—
Choosing its next move.