The smoke didn't scatter the way it should have.
There was no gust of wind, no visible force pushing it aside. Instead, it slowly parted on its own, curling away in thick, reluctant waves, as if something within it was forcing space open simply by existing.
Then it moved.
Something stepped forward from the darkness, slow and deliberate.
Each step carried weight—real, undeniable weight. The ground beneath it responded immediately, faint tremors rippling outward as cracks spread across the already shattered street. Bits of loose stone shifted and sank under the pressure, while the surrounding smoke recoiled, pulling back from its form as though even it wanted no contact with whatever was emerging.
For a brief moment, everything else seemed to stop.
The Van X operatives held their positions, weapons raised but unmoving, their focus locked ahead. No one spoke at first. No one dared to.
"…There it is…" someone finally whispered, the words barely audible.
The shape became clearer.
Too large.
Far too large to be anything normal.
And then it stepped fully into view.
The figure towered over them, easily reaching four meters in height. Its body didn't look entirely solid, nor did it resemble pure energy. It existed somewhere in between—a shifting mass of deep purple, darker at its center and glowing faintly along the edges, as if veins of light pulsed beneath its surface.
But even that wasn't stable.
Its outline flickered constantly, distorting in small, uneven waves, like it couldn't quite settle on a single form. Parts of it seemed to lag behind its own movement, stretching slightly before snapping back into place.
Its arms hung low at its sides, unnaturally long, extending far past where they should have. At the ends, they twisted into claw-like shapes that flexed slowly, each motion leaving faint trails of Zenthrai lingering in the air before fading away.
Behind it, a tail moved in uneven sweeps.
It started thin near the base but widened toward the end, splitting slightly as if unfinished—like something half-formed and never corrected. Small sparks of energy slipped off it now and then, dissolving before they could even reach the ground.
Then its head shifted.
Not smoothly.
It jerked to the side—too fast—then paused, twitching faintly before snapping back. A second later, it tilted forward, then slightly back again, the motion uneven and unnatural, as if something inside it was struggling for control and failing to stabilize.
"…A stray…" one of the operatives said under his breath.
But even he didn't sound certain.
Because this wasn't what a stray was supposed to look like.
There was something wrong.
Something far beyond normal deviation.
The creature's chest suddenly rose, expanding sharply as if drawing in air—though whether it actually breathed was unclear.
Then it released a sound.
A roar tore out from within it, loud enough to shake the air itself.
But it wasn't just anger.
Beneath the raw force of it, there was something else—something fractured, something unstable.
Something that sounded… almost like pain.
The sound tore through the air like something breaking apart at the seams of reality itself. The ground trembled beneath their feet, a deep, violent shudder that sent cracks spidering across the pavement. Windows in nearby buildings shattered almost instantly, glass bursting outward in sharp, glittering sprays, while loose debris rattled and skidded across the streets as if caught in an invisible storm.
Several operatives flinched on instinct, their training barely holding their reactions in check.
"…It's unstable," one of them muttered, his voice tight. "Look at its Zenthrai… it's completely erratic."
He wasn't wrong. The energy surrounding the Astral surged in wild, uneven pulses, flickering unpredictably between extremes. One moment it flared violently, the next it dipped, only to spike again without warning—like a heartbeat that couldn't settle into rhythm, something alive but failing to stay in control.
Then it moved.
Not gradually. Not with any warning.
Just—gone.
One step forward cracked the ground beneath it, the force splitting stone like fragile glass. The next—
It vanished.
"MOVE—!"
The shout came too late.
The Astral reappeared directly in front of a Van X operative, its arm already in motion. There was no time to react, no chance to defend.
The impact hit like a collapsing wall.
The operative was launched across the street, his body smashing through broken debris before skidding violently along the ground, leaving behind a trail of dust and fractured stone.
"Ghh—!"
"Spread out!" another voice shouted sharply. "Don't let it group us!"
But the Astral didn't pursue.
It remained where it was, chest rising and falling in heavy, uneven breaths. Its head twitched as it turned, movements sharp and disjointed, as though something was interfering with its own control.
It wasn't scanning the battlefield.
It was searching.
Or failing to.
"…Why isn't it finishing them off?" one operative asked, stepping back cautiously.
No one answered.
They all saw it.
The hesitation.
The lack of precision.
The way its movements didn't flow, didn't connect—like something inside it was pulling in two different directions at once.
The Astral let out another sound, lower this time. A deep, guttural growl that seemed to vibrate through the air itself. Its claws dug into the ground, cracking it further as its body began to shift.
At first, the change was subtle.
Then it wasn't.
Its frame expanded, slowly at first, almost imperceptibly—until it wasn't anymore.
"…It's—"
The words caught in someone's throat.
Four meters became five. Five stretched into six.
"It's growing…"
Zenthrai erupted outward in violent waves, distorting the air around it. Dust lifted into the sky, debris pushed back as if repelled by sheer pressure, the environment itself struggling to hold its shape against the force being released.
Eight meters.
Nine.
Then ten.
It stopped there, towering over everything in its surroundings, its presence now impossible to ignore.
The roar that followed was different.
Louder.
Heavier.
But more than that—
There was something beneath it.
Something raw.
It wasn't just rage.
It was pain.
The sound echoed across the battlefield, rolling through the ruined outskirts like a warning. For a brief moment—just a moment—some of the operatives hesitated.
"…What kind of stray does this…?" one of them whispered.
No one had an answer.
Because nothing about this made sense.
Not like this.
Not at this scale.
The Astral's head lowered slowly, its glowing gaze locking onto the Van X forces. The air seemed to thicken, growing still, as if the world itself had paused to watch what would happen next.
Then its chest began to glow.
Deep.
Violent.
Purple Zenthrai gathered at its core, swirling faster and faster, compressing into something dense, unstable—something that didn't look like it should exist.
"…It's charging—!"
Too late.
The Astral opened its mouth. And fired.
A beam of concentrated Zenthrai tore forward, carving through the battlefield with absolute destruction. Buildings vanished in its path, reduced to nothing in an instant. Walls, structures—anything caught in its trajectory simply ceased to exist.
The explosion that followed swallowed the street whole, light and force erupting outward in a violent shockwave. Debris scattered in every direction, the blast alone forcing the Van X operatives to scatter just to survive.
And before the dust could settle— It moved again.
Its tail split apart, shifting unnaturally before unleashing a barrage of smaller beams. They fired in rapid succession, tearing through the battlefield from multiple angles, striking without pattern or warning.
"Watch it!"
"Spread out!"
The shouts barely cut through the chaos.
Screams followed.
The battlefield descended into disorder once more—but this time, it was worse.
Because now they understood.
This wasn't something they could control.
This wasn't just a stray gone wrong.
This was something else entirely.
Something far more dangerous.
A disaster.
And it had only just begun.