Kaela took a slow breath, feeling the pulse of Nyxveil in her hand, the weightless yet undeniable presence of the blade as if it was an extension of herself. The Rift loomed ahead, bleeding colors that defied sense, twisting the very air into something that was neither sky nor void. The ground trembled beneath her boots, but she stood unmoving, letting the silence settle within her.

  She had trained for this.

  Her entire life had been discipline. Dedication. Nights spent in secret, practicing the movements forbidden to her. Long hours of mimicry, watching the boys train in the great halls of Khesteros, committing every motion to memory. A sword had never been meant for her hands, yet she had claimed one in the darkness, making it her own. When she wielded it, she was not a daughter of the noble houses, not a spectator meant to watch from the balconies. She was a warrior. She had always been a warrior.

  And now, with Nyxveil, she was something more.

  She felt the shift before she heard it.

  The air grew heavy. The silence sharpened. Then,movement.

  A low growl reverberated from the ruins ahead. Kaela adjusted her stance instinctively, sword raised and body poised. The weight of Nyxveil was perfectly balanced, an extension of her arm. With a deep breath, she centered herself. The first of the Brutes emerged into the hellish half-light , a hulking silhouette of twisted muscle and ragged armor that had once been the proud uniform of a Nexus soldier. Kaela’s stomach knotted at the sight. She could still see remnants of humanity in its form: a human face now contorted by rage, eyes that in a different life might have shown courage or kindness but were now wells of mindless fury. This creature was no longer a man, however. It was an instrument of pure violence, stripped of reason by Ammon’s corruption.

  The Brutes came in force.

  They emerged from the jagged remains of a ruined archway, hulking figures draped in crude, blackened armor, bodies twisted beyond recognition. They were Nexus warriors once. Now, they were husks, stripped of humanity, bound only by the will of the Rift. Their weapons were crude extensions of their grotesque forms,blades fused to flesh, limbs repurposed into tools of slaughter. They moved in unison, not with the coordination of an army, but with the relentless hunger of something beyond reason.

  Kaela did not hesitate.

  The first Brute lunged.

  Nyxveil met flesh before the creature could complete its charge. The blade did not just cut,it unmade. The Brute’s body convulsed as the energy of the strike rippled through it, reality itself recoiling from the wound. A second followed close behind, swinging a rusted cleaver with enough force to shatter stone. Kaela twisted, stepping into the flow of battle, her body moving with unnatural speed. Nyxveil traced an arc through the air, and the Brute’s arm separated cleanly from its body before the rest of it collapsed to the ground.

  They came in waves. Ten. Twenty.

  Despite the odds, a calm determination settled over Kaela. Fear would not serve her here. Instead, a strange tranquility washed through her veins, as if Nyxveil itself was lending her its poise. The blade in her hand pulsed once, a gentle thrum that traveled up her arm. Kaela almost imagined it was reassuring her , or eager for the fight to come.

  Kaela was faster.

  She danced through them, every step a calculated movement, every strike guided by a force beyond herself. Nyxveil tore through more than bodies,it sliced into the fabric of the Rift, sending arcs of violet energy lashing through the air. She bent time itself, slipping between moments, dodging attacks that had not yet been made. The Brutes swung, but she was not there. Their weapons clashed against the ground, shattering stone, but Kaela had already moved past them, her blade singing through the space they once occupied.

  And yet, for all her skill, they did not falter.

  They had no fear. No hesitation. Only force.

  Kaela felt a pang of sorrow even in the heat of battle. These warriors had once stood for something, perhaps even fought alongside her allies before Ammon’s darkness ensnared them. To see them reduced to this twisted state made her anger burn hot. Gritting her teeth, she whispered under her breath, “I will release you from this suffering.” Her voice was lost in the chaos, but the resolve was there. With a swift downswing, Kaela silenced the fallen Brutes, piercing through both their hearts in one merciful strike. Their bodies jerked once and then lay still.

  A massive Brute struck her from behind, the impact sending her sprawling across the broken terrain. Pain flared in her ribs, sharp and immediate. She rolled with the blow, ignoring the sharp protest of her body. Before she could rise, another Brute was already descending upon her, a jagged blade arcing toward her exposed throat.

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  Kaela’s fingers clenched around Nyxveil.

  She did not think. She acted.

  A pulse of energy surged from the blade, an instinctive reaction, and the space between her and the Brute shattered. The creature froze mid-motion, caught within a distortion of time. Kaela pushed herself up, gasping, and in a single, brutal motion, she drove Nyxveil through its chest. The moment fractured. Time snapped back into place. The Brute fell.

  Kaela unleashed the energy in a sweeping strike. Nyxveil sang as it sliced forward, and a wave of searing violet force erupted from its edge. The crescent-shaped blast of energy hurtled outward and plowed into the charging Brutes like a divine scythe. Three of them were cut down instantly, their bodies bisected by the sword’s unleashed power. Another was hurled backward, limbs flailing, its roar turning to a gurgle as the energy burned through its deformed flesh. The very fabric of the Rift beyond shuddered under the force of the blow , the unstable red glow of that tear in reality flickered, its edges warping as if recoiling from Nyxveil’s power. The ground itself shook from the impact. Dust and shattered stone erupted where the energy wave struck, momentarily obscuring the horde in a cloud of debris.

  For a brief moment, there was a lull in the onslaught. Kaela staggered back a step, wiping sweat and blood from her brow with a trembling arm. Her breathing was ragged now, each inhale drawing a stab of pain from her bruised ribs. The dust began to settle, revealing the grim tableau around her. A ring of bodies , the twisted, broken forms of the Brutes , lay scattered at her feet. Some were in pieces, limbs severed by her blade’s fury.

  Others were charred and smoking from the energy wave she had unleashed earlier. The acrid scent of burnt flesh hung heavy in the air, mixed with the metallic tang of blood. It was a nauseating mix, and Kaela had to swallow back a surge of bile. She steeled herself; this was far from over. Faint snarls and thudding footsteps echoed once more from the darkness beyond the archway. How many more could there be?

  Yet even with her skill and the sword’s power, the horde was overwhelming. For every Brute she felled, two more seemed to clamber over the rubble to take its place. Kaela found herself gradually being encircled, a ring of snarling faces and weapons closing in. She kicked one Brute square in the chest, sending it reeling back into its kin and buying herself a brief moment of space. In that heartbeat of respite, she realized her limbs were growing heavy. Her earlier injuries , the cut on her side, the bruised ribs , now throbbed painfully with each movement.

  Warm blood was still seeping from the gash along her ribs, and her left arm was weakening from the blow it had taken. Her breath came in ragged gasps. The toll of sustaining Nyxveil’s magic and battling dozens of foes was taxing even her extraordinary endurance. She exhaled sharply, wiping blood from her cheek. The remaining Brutes hesitated, their hollow eyes flickering with something almost like recognition. Then, as if answering an unspoken command, they retreated, disappearing into the shifting shadows of the Rift.

  Kaela remained still, waiting for the next assault.

  None came.

  The Rift pulsed. It had tested her. And it had found her worthy.

  "You fight well."

  The voice was smooth, carrying the weight of something ancient. Kaela turned sharply, Nyxveil raised, her body still humming with the aftermath of battle.

  A woman stood before her.

  She was tall, impossibly graceful, her presence disrupting the very air around her. She did not move like a warrior, nor did she stand like a queen. There was something else about her,something unspoken, something beyond flesh. Her features were sharp, her skin pale with an almost translucent glow. But it was her eyes that held Kaela in place,deep pools of knowing, flickering with the echoes of a time long forgotten.

  Kaela kept her grip firm on Nyxveil. "Who are you?"

  The woman tilted her head slightly, as if considering the question. "Someone who has been here far too long."

  "And what do you want?"

  A faint smile. "To see if you were ready."

  Kaela’s jaw tightened. "For what?"

  The woman took a step closer, and though the Rift twisted around her, she remained untouched. "For what comes next. You have power, Kaela. You have purpose. But neither will matter if you do not learn what this place is… and what it can do to you."

  Kaela hesitated, the weight of those words settling over her. She did not trust easily. But there was no deceit in this woman’s voice,only certainty.

  The woman exhaled, as if amused by Kaela’s caution. "Your doubt serves you well. But whether you believe me or not, one thing is certain."

  She turned, gesturing beyond the ruins.

  "You're not alone."

  Kaela followed her gaze.

  A lone figure moved through the Rift, his silhouette sharp against the impossible horizon. His stance was tense, uncertain, but his presence was undeniable.

  A man.

  His steps were slow, labored. His body bore the marks of battle, his armor scorched and torn. Blood dripped from his side, staining the shifting ground beneath him. Even from this distance, Kaela could see the exhaustion weighing on him, the way his body resisted every movement. He was a warrior, but he was wounded.

  Then, without warning, his legs buckled.

  Kaela did not hesitate.

  She moved, crossing the space between them in seconds, her body reacting before her mind had caught up. The moment his knees gave way, she was there, catching him before he hit the ground. He was heavier than she expected, his body slack with exhaustion. His breath was ragged, his pulse erratic.

  For a moment, she simply held him, his weight against her own, their forms silhouetted against the endless expanse of the Rift.

  He was a stranger. And yet, the Rift had brought them both here.

  That meant something.

  Kaela exhaled slowly, adjusting her grip. She did not know his name. She did not know why the Rift had led them to this moment.