Vorak Algoks POV

  The air reeked of salt and gunpowder. The echo of gunfire cracked through the trees, mixed with the shouts of humans and the distant crash of waves against the shore. I had seen battle before. I had commanded warriors in defense of our kind on other worlds. But this—this was different. The humans fought with desperation, but also precision. They were well-trained, disciplined in a way that most planetary militias we had encountered were not.

  They moved in coordinated units, advancing in waves as more boats landed on the beaches. Each wave was calculated, covering the previous one as they pushed forward, securing ground before pressing onward. Some remained near the boats, reinforcing their position, while others rushed toward the treeline where we had taken position. Their weapons—primitive compared to what we had seen on other planets—were still deadly in their efficiency.

  I pressed my hand to the ground, sending my command through the network of Borzork stationed across the island. Hold the line. Push them back before they gain a foothold.

  A deep hum of understanding echoed through me as the Borzork warriors reacted instantly, surging forward from the trees, using their enhanced speed to close the distance. They struck with precision, absorbing the heat from the sun and their surroundings to fuel their strength. The ground shook slightly as they moved, the force of their attacks knocking back the first line of human soldiers, sending them sprawling into the sand.

  But the humans were relentless. They adjusted quickly, reforming their line, their weapons cutting through the air with lethal precision. Some dropped to one knee, bracing their rifles, while others took position behind what little cover the terrain offered. They fought like predators, calculated and efficient.

  I narrowed my eyes. This is not the first time they have done this.

  The realization settled deep in my chest. I had seen species like this before—ones that had turned war into something more than survival, something practiced, perfected. They had fought wars against their own kind for centuries, and now, they had turned that experience toward us.

  I turned my focus back to the Borzork, adjusting our strategy. Stay concealed. Let them come onto the beach. We strike when they are exposed, before they reach the treeline. Do not meet them head-on where they are strongest.

  The Borzork shifted immediately, pulling back from open combat and instead using the natural landscape to their advantage. They moved through the trees, striking from the flanks, disrupting the humans’ formations. The enemy hesitated—just for a moment—but it was enough.

  I moved toward the front lines, stepping onto the rocky edge of the beach. I could see them clearly now—their faces, their determination. They did not see us as people. They saw us as something to be eradicated.

  And that was their mistake.

  We had survived this before. We had been hunted, driven from our homes, forced to fight when all we had wanted was peace. But we had endured. We had adapted.

  And we would not fall here.

  I sent the command once more. Hold the line.

  The Borzork warriors spread across the island, taking positions along the remaining stretches of coastline. They moved in silence, disciplined and focused, using the dense jungle as their cover. Their strength was in their speed and resilience, in their ability to absorb energy and release it in devastating bursts. They would defend the unguarded shores, ensuring that no more enemy forces could gain entry without resistance.

  I knew that while brute strength held the first wave at bay, strategy would win the war. My mind, honed by centuries of experience, calculated every possibility. Jace Strickland was holding a section of the beach alongside several human allies. I had been skeptical of the transformed human at first, but Jace had proven himself in ways that could not be ignored. Even now, despite his injuries, he fought with determination. His new ability was proving invaluable, slowing down the attackers, disrupting their coordination, making them easy targets for the Eova weapons.

  Further down the island, Thriexa, Tocci, and the human woman, Sam, held another key stretch of the shore. Their defense was not brute force like the Borzork, but precise, coordinated. I trusted in their strength, in the bond they had forged between them. Sam had proven herself among us, just as Jace had.

  But my thoughts lingered on Thriexa. Her intent-sensing gave her an advantage no human could counter, allowing her to predict movements before they occurred. She wove through the battlefield with the confidence of an Aizih, a leader who had faced war before and would do so again.

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  She was my granddaughter, my blood. I had watched her grow into the leader she was now, shaped by the burdens placed upon her, by the responsibility of an entire people. And as I stood on the battlefield, watching her fight alongside our kind and the humans alike, I felt a pride deeper than words.

  She carried the weight of our history, of our survival. And today, she would prove that the Eova would not be erased.

  Jace Strickland POV

  Pain burned through my shoulder, but I didn’t let it slow me down. The bullet wound from earlier throbbed with every movement, a sharp reminder that I was still human in some ways, even if my body had changed. I could feel the energy thrumming beneath my skin, pushing me to keep going, pushing me to fight harder.

  The Human Purity Movement wasn’t stopping. More boats kept landing, their soldiers pouring onto the beach in a relentless wave. They came with the singular intent of wiping the Eova from this place, from this world. And I wasn’t about to let that happen.

  I pushed forward, pressing my hands into the sand beneath me. My ability flared, merging the loose grains with the air, shifting the ground beneath the approaching attackers into a treacherous trap. The sand liquefied instantly, pulling their boots down like quicksand. They struggled, their movements sluggish, fighting against a terrain that betrayed them. Panic flickered across their faces—hesitation I had given them just long enough for the others to strike.

  I raised the weapon the Bopro had developed, my aim steady despite the pain in my shoulder. The blast struck the struggling attackers, spreading over them like an invisible force, locking their limbs in place without harming them. It wasn’t ice, but something beyond human technology, something designed to incapacitate rather than kill. One by one, they fell still, frozen where they stood, unable to break free. The battlefield shifted in our favor, but I knew it wouldn’t last. They had the numbers. We had to hold on.

  I ducked behind a rock as another round of gunfire tore through the air. My breathing was heavy, my muscles screaming in protest, but I forced myself to stay in the fight. I wasn’t just fighting to survive. I was fighting for them.

  For the Eova.

  For Thriexa.

  I couldn’t see her through the chaos of battle, but I could feel her. The bond between us was something unshakable now. She was out there, defending another stretch of the beach, holding the line just as I was. I knew she wouldn’t back down. She never had before.

  A part of me had been fighting this connection, fighting the reality of what I had become. But standing here now, bleeding, exhausted, but refusing to fall, I knew there was no denying it anymore. This was where I was meant to be. This was my fight as much as it was theirs.

  Another boat landed, and I pushed off the rock, preparing for the next wave. Pain, exhaustion—it didn’t matter. I wasn’t stopping.

  Not now. Not ever.

  Trenal’s POV

  I sat in the center of a safe zone, my eyes closed, my breathing steady. Around me, Eova moved in tense silence, Eova from every nation other than the Borzock, trusting that we would hold the line. But I wasn’t just sitting idle—I was reaching.

  My mind stretched outward, threading through the unseen network that connected every Eova on the island. I felt them, dozens—hundreds—of minds flickering like distant stars. Most were safe, tucked away in secure locations, hidden from the advancing enemy forces. But there were others—stragglers, trapped, exposed.

  I focused, isolating one presence. A young Jaret, afraid, alone. They were near the western ridge, too close to the advancing human forces. My mind adjusted, stretching further, seeking out the intruders in that area. There—four humans moving in formation, their weapons raised, scanning the treeline.

  Stay low. Move toward the riverbed, I instructed the young Eova telepathically. There’s a hidden path to the east. Follow it.

  I felt their hesitation, the tremble in their thoughts. Now, I urged.

  They moved, and I kept my focus on the humans, sensing their locations by telepathically connecting to their minds. The soldiers moved forward, unaware, their attention elsewhere. The young Eova slipped through undetected, reaching the safe zone moments later.

  I exhaled, my mind shifting again, searching. There were more.

  One by one, I found them—Eova scattered across the island, some hiding, some injured, some simply caught too far from safety. Each time, I mapped out the movements of the enemy forces, guiding my people away from danger, steering them toward the nearest safe zones before the humans could find them.

  The longer I stayed connected, the more the weight of it pressed down on me. Keeping my awareness stretched across so many minds, so many moving pieces—it took energy, precision, control. But I couldn’t stop. Not until every last one of us was safe.

  With every Eova accounted for and safely within the designated zones, I allowed myself a brief moment to breathe. But the battle was still raging, and I knew my role was not yet finished. I reached out again, this time expanding beyond my own kind, stretching my mind further than I ever had before—connecting to the humans.

  Their emotions were chaotic, full of fear, anger, and desperation. I couldn’t hear their thoughts, but I could feel the turmoil within them, the frantic energy of soldiers realizing they were losing ground. Their formations broke apart, scattered by the growing panic, their numbers dwindling. The battle was shifting.

  One by one, I sensed them being stopped—frozen in place by the Bopro weapons, their bodies locked in suspended animation. The resistance they had carried, the drive to fight, flickered and faded with every immobilized soldier. The tide had turned.

  Then, finally, there were no more.

  I held onto the connection, scanning for any remaining threats. There were none. The humans who had stormed our shores had been subdued. The fight was over.

  I redirected my awareness, searching the minds I knew best—Jace, Thriexa, Algoks. I found them still engaged, still prepared for the next strike.

  It’s over, I told them telepathically, letting the weight of the words settle in. The battle is won. All of them are frozen.