From the vantage point above, Cassandra watched the scene unfold with wide, gleaming eyes. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw Fenrik's body slam into the invader, the force of his strike hurling the creature backward through the store's shattered entrance. A quiet smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

  "He did it," she whispered, more to herself than anyone else. "He's finally fighting like a true werewolf—not running from what he is anymore."

  Sentinel stood beside her, arms folded, his gaze sharp and steady as it swept the destruction below. "Yes," he said with a slow nod. "Now let's see if they can stop what comes next."

  His eyes locked on the entrance of the ruined store below, where something stirred in the shadows.

  One by one, Elias, Thorne, Alice, and Lyric emerged from the smoke and rubble, injured and bloodied but upright, as they limped their way toward Fenrik.

  Thorne was the first, wincing as he pushed off the shattered floor. He limped toward Fenrik with a crooked grin. "Your entry was perfect—what an attack. That speed? Damn. I think I can finally forgive you for running away back then."

  Elias followed, clutching his side but unable to hide the awe in his voice. "That strike... you moved like a phantom. He never even saw it coming.""

  Alice wiped blood from her lip as she approached, her gaze fixed on Fenrik. "You might be the smallest, but your speed is absolutely terrifying. In the best way."

  Lyric trailed behind them, her voice soft but certain. "You didn't just fight. You owned the moment. You were brilliant, Fenrik."

  They stood around him now, bruised but alive, something unspoken settling between them, a bond quietly forging stronger during their first battle.

  Fenrik looked at them, his eyes softening for a brief moment. A low whine escaped him as he gave a small, happy nod. For once, his body felt lighter, his chest filled with something other than doubt, he wasn't the weakest now. He was someone who had protected. Someone who had won.

  Inside his mind, Aiden's voice reached him, warm and full of pride. That's it, Fenrik. We've got it. You're not just a small wolf anymore. You're more. And now we've got the strength to stand with them.

  Fenrik's ears twitched at the words, his heart swelling with the sense of belonging he'd never fully felt before. A contented growl rumbled in his throat as he nodded in response.

  Then Thorne's gaze, sharp and calculating, shifted toward the invader's blade, half-buried near the wreckage of the store the creature had crashed into.

  Fenrik's ears twitched, his gaze flicking from Thorne to the blade, a questioning growl rumbling low in his throat.

  Thorne's eyes flicked to Fenrik, then to the weapon. "We'll explain later," he said, his voice steady despite the tension tightening his jaw. "For now, all you need to know is that this"—he gestured toward the blade—"is the only thing that can kill that invader."

  Fenrik's body relaxed slightly, his tail giving a small, approving flick as he understood without the need for further explanation.

  Lyric's voice was barely more than a whisper, her words laced with unease. "I want to believe it'll work... that the boy was right, and the invader's already gone by the time we use it. But if he's not..."

  Alice's expression darkened, her voice sharp with a bitter edge. "Then we'll go down in history as the first chosen ones to die in their very first battle.

  "We should grab it before he crawls back out," Thorne muttered, already starting toward the blade.

  Before he could take another step, a low, guttural noise rumbled from the shadows of the ruined store. Wet, ragged breathing followed, then the grating scrape of broken plastic and shattered tiles being dragged across the slick floor.

  Thorne froze. The others stiffened, instinctively locking eyes, their breath hitching. The sound was unmistakable.

  Something was moving.

  In the murky dark of the store, a silhouette shifted, slow and deliberate. Their eyes followed the shadows, hearts pounding as the air thickened with tension.

  Fenrik's lips peeled back into a snarl, his low growl vibrating through the air as his ears flattened against his skull. He stepped forward, eyes fixed on the darkened doorway.

  Alice's fists clenched at her sides, nails biting into her palms as her knuckles bruised. Her voice was tight. "I don't know why... but I have a bad feeling about it."

  Elias stood taller, his bloodied form still unbroken. His eyes narrowed, fiery resolve flickering behind his gaze. "Whatever it is, this time we face it together. We'll defeat him. No matter what."

  Around him, chaos reigned. The ground beneath their feet was cracked and jagged, littered with debris, broken tiles, twisted metal, and the wreckage of a place that once stood whole.

  The five of them shifted into position. Shoulder to shoulder. Bruised, battered, but unyielding.

  Fenrik crouched at the front, paws steady on uneven ground, fangs glinting as he let out a low, warning growl.

  Thorne stepped back slightly, boots crunching over shattered glass as he gripped a bent metal pole scavenged from the wreckage. Shoulders taut, faint warmth still radiated from his chest, as if he were barely holding back a flare of energy.

  "I don’t care how strong he thinks he is," He muttered, planting his feet between the cracks. "He’s not getting through us."

  Elias stood firm amid the brokenness, holding a jagged metal shard in one hand. His knuckles were white with tension, but his gaze never wavered.

  Beside him, Alice raised a scorched throne fragment like a shield, lifting her chin despite the dust and blood smeared across her face.

  "Let him come," she said coldly. "I’m done running."

  Lyric moved into place behind them, the ground unstable beneath her. Her hands trembled as she picked up a rusted metal pipe, clutching it like a lifeline.

  "Even if I’m afraid," she whispered, "I won’t back down."

  Then, slowly, deliberately, the invader stepped out of the shadows.

  The collective breath of the group caught. Eyes widened.

  Thorne's smirk vanished in an instant. "You've got to be kidding me..."

  Alice's voice was a shaky whisper. "That... that's not the same form as before."

  Elias took a step back, his pulse quickening. "He's changed. No—he's evolved."

  Lyric's voice came softly, almost as if she was speaking to herself. "His aura... it's stronger now. More dangerous than before."

  Fenrik bared his teeth, his fur bristling with an almost tangible energy. His body shifted, his muscles coiling with readiness as his golden eyes locked onto the shadow before them. He didn't need words. The intensity in his gaze spoke volumes.

  This fight wasn't over.

  It had only just begun.

  The air around them thickened, heavy and suffocating, as if the world itself was holding its breath. From the darkened store, the invader stepped into the light, already transformed.

  There was nothing human left in his form.

  Ashen gray skin stretched tight over rippling, unnatural muscle. Jagged obsidian horns curled from his skull, glinting like volcanic glass. Crimson eyes blazed with cruel intent, and his presence radiated a hunger that chilled the blood. The sound of his breath, wet and ragged, cut through the silence like a blade.

  Clawed hands flexed. The tips of his fingers curled into hooked blades, each movement humming with deadly purpose. From his back, tendrils of shadow exploded outward, long and thrashing limbs that slithered through the air like serpents smelling blood.

  Once a man who looked no different than them, the creature now stood revealed, no longer hiding behind flesh or borrowed features. This was his real form.

  Above, Cassandra froze.

  Her breath hitched. "What... what is that?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. "He wasn't human anymore. He doesn't look like us anymore."

  Sentinel's gaze narrowed, expression carved from stone.

  "No demon ever hid like this," he muttered. "In the old wars, demons came as they were. They came in their true form from the start. No disguises. No games. This one... this is something new."

  Cassandra's eyes remained fixed on the monstrous figure below, wide with disbelief.

  "Sir, every time he bled... he got stronger," she said, her voice low with disbelief. "And now this—this isn't just transformation. It's evolution. He's becoming something else entirely."

  Sentinel didn't answer immediately. He watched as the demon's tendrils coiled with restless menace, the power radiating from him warping the air itself.

  Finally, his voice cut through the heavy silence.

  "Yes. And this first attack... it's just a trailer of what's coming."

  He turned to her slowly. "Each strike after this will be worse. More cunning. More dangerous. These aren't just demons—they're adapting."

  Cassandra swallowed hard, a lump rising in her throat as her gaze drifted back down to the battlefield. "If this is just a mere attack..."

  She didn't finish the thought. The words died in her throat as the shadows thickened. Instead, she whispered, almost to herself. "...then what will the real war look like?"

  The ground beneath the demon cracked, unable to withstand the sheer force radiating from him. Shattered tiles buckled and gave way. Broken tiles groaned beneath his weight, steam hissing through fractured lines. His body, once human in silhouette, now pulsed with unstable energy, distorted, and vibrating in tune with the growing tension in the air.

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  Thorne’s grip tightened on the bent metal pole in his hands. He blinked, heart hammering, taking a step back as heat prickled up his spine. Pyrix? Are you seeing this? he thought, dread curling in his stomach.

  Pyrix's voice rumbled through his mind like magma shifting beneath stone. I see it. The tone was grave. This is not mere power, Thorne. This is something far darker. He is no longer what he was... he’s been consumed by something beyond our understanding.

  Thorne exhaled shakily, eyes locked on the twisted figure before them. His voice came out dry, barely above a mutter. "Okay… not to be dramatic, but I kind of miss the guy with the chain right now."

  Elias stood steady beside him, jagged shard clenched tight. He didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink. His voice, sharp and controlled, cut through the tension. "This isn’t just power. It’s corruption. He’s something else now."

  Alice narrowed her eyes, raising the scorched throne fragment like a shield, the glow of the demon reflected in her irises. Her voice was cold, tinged with disbelief. "He’s not even pretending anymore. That’s a full demon—no mask, no limits."

  Lyric’s breath trembled, but she took a step forward over crumbling stone. The rusted metal pipe in her hands shook faintly—but her voice did not. "And we’re the only ones who can stop him."

  Fenrik's gaze never wavered from the demon. His body remained grounded, tense but unshaken. There was no fear in him, only the slow burn of fury and resolve.

  Aiden's voice echoed in his mind, quiet but with the weight of unwavering confidence. Whatever he is now, we're ready. You've proven you're part of this fight. Just trust yourself, Fenrik. We've got this.

  Fenrik's ears perked up slightly, his tail flicking once in response, a quiet affirmation.

  The demon's new form loomed over them, a towering, twisted figure. His jagged horns cast deep shadows across the shattered ground, dark and foreboding.

  His voice came next, layered, a deep rumble as if more than one voice was speaking. "You dare wound me... humiliate me?" His claws twitched, flexing like they were made to tear. "You will not survive what's coming next."

  He raised one clawed finger, pointing directly at Fenrik. "You first."

  The air stilled.

  Then, Lyric tilted her head, the corner of her lips curving up in a faint, knowing smirk. "Looks like Fenrik's little attack bruised more than just his body... that ego's bleeding too."

  Thorne glanced at Fenrik, his arms folded, a wry grin on his face. "Yeah, well, maybe you should've stayed the 'small harmless one.' Look what you've done now—he's full-on nightmare fuel."

  Fenrik huffed, a sharp exhale that almost sounded like a dry laugh. His ears twitched, but his eyes never left the demon. He was unshaken.

  His confidence didn't waver.

  Elias stepped forward, blood streaking down his face, but his gaze remained steady and fierce. "It doesn't matter what he looks like now," he said, voice unwavering. "Our mission is clear. We take him down, not just for ourselves—but to show everyone that we're not backing down. We're worthy of our kind, worthy of being chosen. And we'll prove it."

  One by one, the others nodded, their resolve hardening.

  Elias drew in a steadying breath, his stance solidifying as he faced the demon. "If you want to take one of us down, you'll have to face all of us."

  The demon's voice echoed, low and menacing. "This time, I will show no mercy. You will regret standing against me."

  With that, he lunged, not in a chaotic frenzy, but with the terrifying precision of an ancient force, one that had tasted death before and would deliver it again.

  Fenrik lunged at the demon, his body a blur of fur and instinct. His teeth sank into the demon's arm, and a sickening crack rang out. The beast hissed in pain, but before Fenrik could react, it swung its arm, throwing him across the room. He hit a pillar with a crash, his body crumpling to the ground. He stayed still for a heartbeat, stunned, then pushed himself up, a growl escaping him as he refocused on the demon.

  Thorne didn’t hesitate. With a grim snarl, he swung the metal pole he’d scavenged from the wreckage at the demon’s ribs. The pole bent under the brutal impact, but the demon barely reacted. It didn’t seem to notice the attack at all.

  Then, with a sickening screech, the demon lunged forward, its claws slashing through the air like razors. Thorne was caught off guard. One of the demon’s claws tore across his chest, and with a terrifying force, he was lifted off the ground. The wind was knocked from his lungs as he was hurled against the broken floor, his body slamming down with a heavy thud.

  Gritting his teeth, Thorne fought to regain his breath, a blaze of fury igniting in his chest. He wasn’t finished yet.

  Alice was right behind him, eyes burning with determination. She charged in from the side, slamming her shoulder into the demon's torso. For a split second, the demon staggered back, thrown off balance. But it was only a momentary lull before the demon retaliated. Its massive arm whipped around, striking Alice square in the chest with brutal force.

  She flew through the air, crashing into the debris with a sickening crash. Pain bloomed in her chest, but she pushed it aside, forcing herself to stand. The fire in her eyes had not dimmed. She was still ready to fight.

  Lyric moved faster than they could track, slipping behind the demon with nimble grace. She swung the bent metal pipe at its back with a loud, resounding clang. The blow should’ve been enough to bring it down, but the demon spun around, its hands locking around Lyric’s throat.

  With a single, terrifying motion, it slammed her into the wall. The air was knocked from her lungs, but Lyric refused to lose focus. Her hands scrambled, pushing against the demon’s crushing grip, her eyes never leaving her target. She wasn’t going to fall so easily.

  Elias, heart pounding with adrenaline, with a roar, he charged, aiming for the demon’s leg. He drove the shard deep into its flesh. The demon snarled in pain, staggering back—but it wasn’t enough to stop it. In a swift counterattack, the demon’s foot shot out, catching Elias square in the chest.

  The force of the blow sent Elias crashing to the ground, blood trickling from the gash on his face. He gasped for air, his body aching from the brutal impact. Still, his resolve remained unbroken. He forced himself up, one shaky breath at a time, his hand gripping the shard tighter, ready for another strike.

  Seeing their struggle from the upper floor, Sentinel’s voice cut through the tension. "They will never defeat him like this," he said, his tone heavy with realization. "Every time they wound him, he only grows stronger."

  Cassandra, standing by his side, looked at the fighting group, then back at the Sentinel. "Sir," she said, her voice firm, "I think we should go help them now."

  Sentinel shook his head, his gaze never leaving the scene of chaos. "Just like them, we would only wound him. That won’t work. There must be a way to kill him—something more than just brute force. Give them time. I believe they will find a way. The Eclipse Heart will guide them if we stay out of the way. If we intervene now, the situation may turn against them."

  The five of them attacked together—Fenrik, Thorne, Alice, Lyric, and Elias—coordinating their strikes. But the demon was relentless. Its claws tore through the air, knocking them down one by one. Every strike felt heavier, but they kept getting up, refusing to back down.

  As the dust settled and their bodies lay sprawled across the wreckage, the demon didn't advance. It stood still amidst the ruin, tall and unshaken, watching them with burning crimson eyes. Its chest rose with a slow breath, arms stretching out wide as if to embrace the destruction it had caused. Power rippled off its form, raw and oppressive, curling in the air like heat from a blaze.

  "You thought unity would save you?" it said, voice thick with mockery, each word falling like thunder in the silence.

  Elias coughed, hand pressed against his ribs. Pain flared hot and sharp with every breath. His vision swam, blurred at the edges. All around him, his friends were broken, struggling to move. They had thrown everything they had left—and it hadn't been enough. His fingers clenched against the shattered tiles beneath him.

  Like this... we can't win. Not like this.

  But then, through the pounding in his head and the chaos around him, something surfaced in his mind. A memory, quiet and sudden. That stranger boy. The words he had spoken, soft but unshakable.

  "There's only one way. You have to use his own weapon—stab him in the chest."

  His gaze drifted sideways, scanning the debris.

  There, half-buried beneath a collapsed display stand and a twisted beam of metal, lay the demon's blade. Its jagged edge shimmered faintly with a sickly red light, the kind that didn't reflect the world around it but seemed to pulse with something alive. Elias's breath caught. Every nerve in his body screamed, every muscle ached, but none of it mattered. The demon hadn't noticed him. Not yet.

  His gaze locked onto the blade. "If I can get to the blade... I can end this."

  The thought rang out, not spoken, not shouted, just felt.

  And his pendant answered.

  The faintest blue glow pulsed from the infinity symbol around his neck again, like a breath drawn in the silence between heartbeats. Elias didn't notice it. But the others did. Not with their eyes but with their minds.

  A thought that wasn't their own brushed against them. Urgent. Familiar. Elias's voice, but not from his lips. They didn't understand how they heard it, but in that moment, they didn't need to. Pain dulled the edges of logic. Instinct and trust took over.

  Thorne's head jerked up, blood streaking down his temple, eyes dazed until they snapped into focus. The pain didn't fade, but something stronger surged to the surface. That whisper echoed in his chest: If I can get to the blade... I can end this.

  Alice froze mid-breath, the demon's growls distant in her ears. She didn't stop to question it, only to acknowledge that it was real. She turned her head toward Elias, pain etched into every corner of her face, but fire returning to her eyes.

  Lyric's fingers, curled weakly at her side, twitched. She hadn't moved in what felt like ages, but now her heart thundered. Her vision blurred, but the message had cut through everything else. Elias needed them. Somehow, they had heard him.

  Fenrik growled as he forced himself upright, blood matting his fur. He didn't understand what had passed between them. But he didn't have to. Something in his core had responded without thought, his loyalty drawn forward by the invisible thread between them.

  For a brief moment, through the haze of ruin, they looked at one another. Broken. Bleeding. Barely standing.

  But their eyes met.

  And that was enough.

  Thorne gave the slightest nod, jaw clenched, his body positioned at a distance from the others. Alice, her hands trembling, returned the nod, eyes fierce beneath the grime and bruises, standing a few paces away. Lyric, struggling to push herself up from the wreckage, lifted her hand with effort, signaling readiness without a word from her position further back. Fenrik crouched at the edge of the battlefield, his shoulders low and his breath heavy, but his presence unwavering as he remained alert.

  Together, they moved.

  Thorne went first, snatching up a shattered mannequin arm made of thick plastic and metal. Blood trickled down the side of his face, but he gritted his teeth and shouted, "Hey, ugly! Over here!" With a grunt, he hurled the jagged limb like a spear. It struck the demon square in the chest, not enough to wound, but enough to make it turn with a snarl.

  Lyric was next. Her hand closed around a splintered shard of a glass display. Her body trembled from the pain, but her voice cut through the chaos like a whip. "With a face like that, no wonder you fight in the dark!" She flung the shard with precision, the broken edge slicing into the demon's arm. Black blood welled, and the beast let out a guttural growl, its attention shifting again.

  Alice didn't wait. She charged across the debris-strewn floor, a broken piece of tile in her hand. "You're not as scary as you think you are!" she yelled, slamming the sharp edge into the demon's shoulder with all her might. The impact sent a jolt through her arm, but she didn't back down.

  Fenrik came in low, a blur of blood-matted fur and fury. He leapt at the demon's leg again, fangs sinking deep, his growl like thunder beneath the chaos. The demon roared, spinning, its claws lashing out, too late. Fenrik had already ducked beneath the swing, darting back with primal instinct.

  "You dare mock me? You miserable little gnats!" It took a step forward, claws scraping against the ground as it advanced. "I'll break every bone in your worthless bodies!"

  With a deafening roar, the demon lunged one final time, mouth open in a furious howl.

  Through the haze of chaos, Elias moved with a quiet intensity. He slipped past the destruction, a shadow moving through the wreckage, unnoticed by the demon in its rage. His gaze locked onto the half-buried blade near the shattered store entrance.

  His feet were light, swift, no sound to mark his passage across the fractured tiles. Every breath was measured. Every movement deliberate.

  His fingers brushed the hilt of the demon's weapon. Cold. Familiar.

  The force of the demon's charge was like a storm. Thorne was the first to fall, knocked aside with brutal force. He hit the floor and slid into a pile of debris, groaning but alive. Alice tried to intercept, only to be slammed down, her limbs splayed, chest heaving with shallow breaths. Lyric was flung back into a shattered storefront, coughing as she tried to push herself upright, vision spinning. Even Fenrik, wild and bloodied, was struck mid-lunge, yelping as he crashed against the marble tiles, unmoving for a long, aching heartbeat.

  Now, only Elias remained upright, barely.

  The demon stood amidst the wreckage, breath ragged, its glowing eyes gleaming with cruel delight. Around it, the others lay scattered—broken, silent, and still.

  For the first time since the fight began, the battlefield was quiet. Completely quiet.

  The demon, mid-swing, felt the air shift as it turned in time to see Elias—now standing behind it, weapon in hand, a silent defiance in his eyes. Invader's claws flexed in fury, its lips curling back in a snarl, and it turned toward him, eyes burning with hatred.

  But Elias didn't flinch. His grip tightened around the blade. He raised it slightly, the red glow intensifying in his hands, reflecting the cold determination in his eyes.

  For a moment, the demon's shock was palpable. "How did you...?" It began, but it quickly shook off the hesitation. "If you have my blade, boy, it doesn't mean you can kill me." It sneered, stepping forward with a mocking glint in its eyes. "To even try, you'd have to reach me first. And trust me... that's never going to happen."

  Elias's expression was unreadable, his stance unyielding.

  "Then I guess I'll find a way to get close," he said, his voice steady, unwavering.

  Perched on the upper level, Cassandra leaned forward, her breath catching.

  "What is he doing?" she whispered, stunned. "Does he really think just holding that blade... he can use the serpent-form to kill it? He doesn't even know what triggers it—how it takes shape!"

  Beside her, Sentinel's expression was unreadable. His eyes narrowed slightly, fixed on Elias like a hawk. "I think they've figured out the way to kill him."