As Ari’s shout echoed through the chaos, everything erupted. The daemon let out a guttural roar, its body suddenly lurching violently as it regained control of its form. The air itself seemed to crackle with an unholy energy.

  Kain’s hand shot up, a desperate command on his lips. “Now!”

  The soldiers leaped into action, their weapons raised, but it was too late. The daemon was no longer the writhing mass it had been. It had grown, taking on a more solid form—tall, terrifying, and with eyes that glowed with a malicious fire. The ground beneath it seemed to tremble as it turned its attention toward the boy.

  Ari hadn’t even made it halfway to his grandfather before the daemon’s gaze locked onto him. Its jaw twisted into a grotesque snarl, and it began to move with horrifying speed. The soldiers fired in unison, but the shots were ineffectual against the beast. Their bullets might as well have been stones.

  “Move, damn it!” Kain shouted, his eyes never leaving the daemon as it surged forward, its clawed hands reaching for the boy. Ari froze in his place unable to take his eyes away from the monster running to him.

  But it was Alexander who arrived in the nick of time, leaping down from the rooftop with an almost unnatural grace. He shouted a command, his voice sharp and commanding, but Kain barely heard it over the roar of the daemon’s anger.

  Ari’s voice, high-pitched with terror, rang out again, “Grandpa!”

  Kain’s heart slammed against his ribs. The boy was too close, and the daemon was too fast. Every instinct screamed at him to act. He couldn’t let the boy die, not like this.

  Without hesitation, Kain pushed forward, his rifle raised. He could see the daemon’s silhouette, looming above Ari, but it wasn’t enough. His hands shook with the need to do something—anything—but he knew this would require more than just firepower.

  “Cover me!” Kain yelled to the soldiers as he dashed forward, eyes locked on the daemon. He wasn’t about to let that boy suffer the same fate as so many others. Not today. Not on his watch.

  He reached the Seed’s body and dropped to one knee, pulling the man—no, not a man, not anymore—into his arms. The figure was still unconscious, his breathing faint but steady. Yet what made Kain’s skin crawl wasn’t the pulse—it was the transformation. The old man was gone. In his place lay someone younger, decades younger. His face was smooth, unlined, but eerily still. White hair spilled down his back, longer than before, shimmering like threads of silver in the dust.

  Kain had seen Seeds change before—voice shifts, glowing eyes, abnormal healing—but this… this was something else. This was rebirth. It felt wrong.

  His hand went to his belt. The hilt of his combat knife was cool, reassuring. This was the moment—he had to do it now. Kill the Seed while the daemon was distracted. One clean strike to the throat, and it would be over.

  He raised the blade.

  And then something hit him.

  No, slammed into him.

  It was like being struck by a car moving at full speed. The wind was knocked out of him as he was hurled backward through the air, crashing down behind the line of cover where his soldiers were crouched. Pain exploded through his chest—ribs cracking, vision dimming.

  “Lieutenant!” one of the soldiers yelled, grabbing Kain as he struggled to sit up. His breaths came in sharp, shallow gasps.

  He winced, blinking the blurriness from his vision. “What the hell—?”

  The good news: the daemon was no longer going after the boys.

  The bad news: it wasn’t done. Not even close.

  And now—it was looking at them.

  No more distractions. No more transformations.

  It had chosen its prey.

  And Kain, still clutching the knife, realized they were about to see just how angry a daemon could get when you tried to hurt its Seed.

  *******************

  Alexander was still sprinting toward the center of the chaos when the sharp crack of gunfire echoed through the air.

  “Damn it!” he cursed under his breath, picking up speed.

  The daemon had fully manifested. He could feel it now—a pulsing, unnatural force pressing against his skin like static before a storm. This wasn’t just bad. This was catastrophic.

  And it had happened far too close to the troops.

  If only Nyla had taken the shot…

  He cut the thought short. No—he couldn’t blame her. Nyla was one of their best sharpshooters, but pulling a trigger on a transformed Seed—a human—wasn’t the same as hitting a target on the range. She had never faced a choice like that before.

  A deep, guttural roar tore through the battlefield. Alexander’s eyes locked onto the source. There it was—the daemon. Towering, grotesque, and still shaping itself like clay in motion. Its body pulsed with unstable energy, raw muscle rippling as it moved.

  And then he saw him—one of the boys. Awake. Standing. Staring up at the abomination like a deer before a collapsing sky.

  Shit.

  “This just got worse,” Alexander muttered.

  His radio crackled to life. “I’m in position. Waiting for orders. Over.”

  Nyla’s voice was shaky, unsure.

  Alexander didn’t have time to wonder if she’d pull the trigger this time.

  The daemon moved—fast. It lunged toward the boy, ignoring the bullets tearing through the air around it like angry bees. They might as well have been raindrops against a mountain.

  Then Alexander spotted it. The Seed.

  Lying crumpled on the ground, his body changed—young, pale, lifeless.

  Alexander’s instincts kicked in. He raised the radio to his mouth.

  “DESTROY THE SEED!” he roared.

  He didn’t know if Kain could hear him through the chaos, through the screams and the monster’s guttural howls—but the man reacted anyway. Kain broke cover, sprinting straight toward the body. He reached it, grabbed the Seed, and began dragging him away while pulling his knife out.

  The daemon felt it. Like a blade through flesh, it felt its seed being in danger—and it screamed. Its attention whipped away from the boy and onto Kain like a beast watching its heart being stolen.

  Alexander didn’t stop to think. He dashed across the field, skidding beside the unconscious boy who’d collapsed earlier. Scooping him up in one arm, he turned toward the second—the one who’d cried out for his grandfather.

  He was still running toward the Seed, unaware that hell itself had turned around.

  Alexander gritted his teeth. One shot. One chance. He bolted after the boy, lungs searing, legs pumping like pistons. Every heartbeat was a ticking countdown. He could see it—just ahead—the daemon’s thorned tail slicing through the smoke-choked air like a whip made of bone and shadow.

  It struck.

  Kain was sent flying, his body crashing into a pile of rubble as blood misted the air.

  No time.

  Alexander lunged forward, scooping up the second boy just as the child turned and screamed at the touch, panic and fear twisting his face.

  “I’ve got you, kid!” Alexander shouted, though the boy couldn’t hear him over the roar behind them.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  With no time to explain and nowhere safe on the ground, Alexander bent his knees and launched upward, using the side of a collapsed scaffold to vault himself onto the roof of a nearby building. His boots slammed onto the cracked concrete as he rolled, shielding the boys with his body.

  The boy trembled in his arms, still gasping in terror, but they were out of the daemon’s line of sight—for now.

  Alexander pressed his back against a crumbling wall, chest heaving, scanning the scene below. Smoke curled from shattered vehicles. Shouts barked through radio static. And in the distance, the daemon turned—searching—hunting.

  But they had saved the boys. For now.

  And that changed everything.

  *************************

  Nyla peered through the scope, her hands trembling slightly as she adjusted her aim. The battlefield stretched out before her, chaotic and unforgiving. Guilt twisted in her gut. She had frozen—frozen at the critical moment when she should have taken the shot. The daemon had manifested, and everything spiralled into madness from that moment on.

  She saw Kain go down, the daemon’s thorned tail crashing into his chest, sending him flying like a ragdoll. Then, Alexander—he was fast, agile—scooped up the children and began running, pulling them to safety, though the chaos around them never let up.

  Nyla’s gaze shifted back to the Seed. She couldn’t afford to hesitate again. She mustn’t. Her finger hovered over the trigger. She wasn’t going to miss this time.

  Her eyes locked onto the Seed—he was lying still now, his body barely moving, but Nyla’s instincts told her to hold. The daemon—now fully manifested—stayed at a distance, its massive form looming like a dark shadow on the battlefield. For a moment, Nyla had a clear shot, but something gnawed at her. Something wasn’t right.

  She tracked the Seed closely, watching for any sign of movement. Kain surged forward, making a daring move, but the daemon didn’t react immediately. Instead, it was as if the creature understood—its attention shifted just enough to allow Kain’s attack, but still, the Seed was somehow protected. It had a prefect control of the battlefield.

  This isn't right, Nyla thought, her pulse quickening. She adjusted her aim slightly, not taking the shot just yet. Every fibre of her being screamed to act, but something deeper—something primal—held her back. The daemon was waiting. Watching. And Nyla knew, deep down, that timing was everything.

  “Nyla! State your location!” Alexander’s voice crackled through the radio, urgent and sharp.

  She snatched the device from her vest and pressed the button.

  “Building at eight o’clock, sir.”

  A pause—then static—then, “Okay, I... just calm down, you shitty brat!... I’m coming over.”

  And then silence.

  Wait—was he coming here? With the kids? Nyla blinked, stunned.

  Barely two minutes passed before Alexander leapt over the edge of the rooftop, landing with the two children in his arms. He moved with calculated force—gently setting down the unconscious boy while practically tossing the younger, squirming one into Nyla’s arms.

  She barely caught him in time.

  The boy thrashed and screamed, his small fists pummeling her chest in panic—until Alexander’s eyes met his.

  The boy froze. Fell completely silent.

  “A soldier from Commander Khamal’s unit will come pick them up. Keep them safe until then,” Alexander said curtly, not even pausing for a reply. And just like that, he vanished over the edge again—back into the chaos.

  The silence lasted for only a second before the boy began to cry.

  “Grandpa… Arte…” he whimpered, shoulders shaking with soft sobs.

  Nyla instinctively pulled him closer, one hand gently patting his back. The other checked on the unconscious boy. Still breathing.

  The boy looked up at her, nose running, eyes wide and watery.

  “What’s your name?” she asked, her voice soft and low.

  “Ari…” he replied, barely above a whisper.

  She nodded. “Hi Ari, I’m Nyla. Is that your brother?”

  Ari sniffled and nodded. “Yes… his n-name is A-Arte…”

  Nyla’s eyes darted to the horizon, scanning for signs of movement.

  She spoke quickly, but kindly.

  “Ari, we’re in danger right now. I need you to be brave. Stay quiet and help me take care of your brother, okay? I promise, we’re going to get through this.”

  Ari swallowed hard and nodded. It was the kind of nod only a child in shock could give—stiff, hesitant, but full of desperate belief.

  Nyla remembered what Maryam had once told her: Children understand more than adults give them credit for.

  Right now, she needed that to be true.

  “What about Grandpa?” Ari’s voice was small, trembling with worry.

  Nyla flinched.

  The boy’s eyes were wide—too wide for someone so young—and staring out toward the chaos where the daemon still raged. Where the body of the Seed—his grandfather—lay too close to the nightmare for comfort.

  The mean big guys had left him, Ari must be thinking. Left him alone next to the monster.

  Nyla's stomach turned, but she forced a smile.

  “Don’t worry,” she said softly, lying through her teeth.

  “The soldiers will help him.”

  Ari looked at her for a moment—searching her face for truth—and then slowly nodded.

  Nyla gently shifted Arte’s unconscious body behind a pile of collapsed concrete, giving them better cover. Ari followed without protest, curling up next to his brother like a frightened animal trying to protect its kin.

  She brushed a hand over his hair once—just once—then returned to her rifle.

  Settling behind the scope, she let out a long breath and scanned the battlefield below.

  Everything was still in motion.

  Everything could still go wrong.

  But now, at least, the children were safe. For now.

  And this time, she wouldn’t miss.

  *****************

  On the ground, Alexander had joined the chaos—grateful he’d taken an extra Vis pill beforehand. He could already feel it coursing through him, that familiar electric surge as the energy compound wrapped around his muscles and fortified his organs. His vision sharpened. His heartbeat steadied. His body was ready for war.

  This daemon wasn’t just strong—it was smart. Not the towering, mindless brute-types they’d faced before. No, this one was leaner, quicker, eyes flicking between him and Kain’s squad across the battlefield. And always—always—hovering protectively near its Seed.

  Alexander sprinted, weaving between the crumbling ruins of the war-torn street, using fractured walls like stepping stones. Each jump was a blur, powered by the Vis until he was practically flying. On the other side, Kain’s squad caught the cue and opened fire—not at the daemon, but at the Seed.

  The distraction worked.

  The daemon roared, whirling back to shield its progenitor—and missed the blur of movement above.

  Alexander came down like a hammer from the sky, his blade gleaming in the sunlight. With all his weight, momentum, and fury, he drove it deep into the daemon’s shoulder, severing one of its arms in a single brutal strike.

  The daemon screamed—a sound like grinding steel and splintering bones—and thrashed violently. Its tail whipped through the air and caught Alexander mid-air, launching him like a ragdoll toward the line of soldiers.

  He hit the ground hard, rolling through dust and blood, but he was grinning through the pain.

  One arm down. One step closer.

  “Hey boss! Need a hand?” Kain called out with a crooked grin, offering his arm. Despite the blood streaking his face and the tightness in his breath, he still had that damn nonchalant attitude.

  Alexander grasped his hand and let Kain haul him up. “You’re still alive, you lucky devil,” he said, almost laughing. Relief flooded his voice, even if his ribs protested every breath. He’d watched that tail strike—thought for sure it had folded Kain in half.

  Kain winced as he straightened. “Yeah, well, I don’t recommend catching that thing with your chest. Pretty sure a couple ribs clocked out early.”

  Across the battlefield, the daemon shrieked—louder than before. It now stood tall, blood-slick and one arm short, firmly positioned between the soldiers and its Seed, taking hit after hit to protect the writhing body behind it.

  “Persistent bastard,” Alexander muttered, eyes narrowing. “It’s learning.”

  Kain cracked his neck, then loaded another clip. “Good. Makes putting it down that much more satisfying.”

  They exchanged a quick nod—battle-worn, bruised, but still in the fight.

  “Let’s finish this.”

  Both men surged forward, their focus razor-sharp, each knowing exactly what had to be done. Alexander’s gaze never left the daemon, calculating, waiting for the slightest gap in its monstrous defense. Every muscle in his body screamed from the effort, but he pushed through, adrenaline coursing through his veins. He needed another opening—a moment to strike, to finish this.

  Beside him, Kain moved like a shadow, eyes flicking from the daemon’s hulking form to the seed it protected so fiercely. His mind raced—he couldn’t risk shooting blind, not with the daemon’s attention so fixed. He needed the right angle, the right moment where the beast’s focus shifted just enough for him to pull the trigger.

  Gunfire filled the air, the chaos of battle a constant, oppressive roar. But it wasn’t enough. The daemon was smart—smarter than anything they’d faced before. Its reflexes were honed, its movements deliberate. Every time Alexander thought he saw an opening, the daemon’s tail would whip around, forcing him back. Every time Kain aimed for the seed, the daemon would shift, its body a living shield.

  "Move in!" Alexander barked to the soldiers around them, but his voice barely cut through the cacophony. They were all so focused on the immediate threat in front of them, no one noticed the subtle shift happening behind the daemon.

  From the corner of Alexander’s eye, something caught his attention—a flicker, a movement too fast to fully process. But by the time he turned his head, it was gone.

  Unseen by anyone, the seed’s transformation was beginning again. Its energy, the unnatural force that had caused it to manifest as a daemon, was beginning to spiral. The air grew colder, a strange weight pressing against their senses, as if the earth itself was recoiling.

  The daemon growled, its focus intensifying, but now it was more than just a protector. It was becoming a sentinel, guarding something far darker. And the soldiers—still unaware of the unfolding events—continued their attack

  But Nyla was aware. From her vantage point, she had the perfect view of the unfolding chaos. Her eyes locked onto the seed as it began to pulse with a surge of raw energy, its force directed straight into the daemon. The creature, already a formidable foe, seemed to absorb the power, its movements jerking as if it were being controlled by invisible strings.

  And then the seed moved.

  The old man’s frail form, once collapsed on the ground, now pushed himself up with shaking hands, coming to his knees. Nyla could see the lines of age receding from his face, as though time itself was being undone in front of her eyes. His body, once hunched and brittle, now stood tall, his posture straight, filled with an unnatural strength.

  The energy swirling around him flickered and fluctuated like a storm, wild and chaotic. Nyla could feel it, almost taste it in the air. The power was immense. She wondered if the others could sense it too. The daemon, its form twitching as it absorbed more of the energy, was now moving in perfect harmony with the seed’s new presence. It was as if the two were becoming one.

  And then, with a final surge, the seed released a pulse of energy, feeding it directly into the daemon. The creature froze mid-roar. The battlefield went silent for a split second. The air was thick with tension.

  That’s when his eyes opened.

  Nyla’s breath hitched. The moment she’d been waiting for was here, and her instincts screamed at her to act.

  Now.

  The voice inside her head was clear, commanding. She obeyed without hesitation. The crosshairs settled on the seed’s head, her target clear in her sights. Her finger curled around the trigger, the pressure steady. Time seemed to stretch.

  She pulled the trigger.

  The shot rang out, cutting through the stillness and disappearing in the chaos of the battle.