Tee instinctively thrust both hands forward, desperately striving to maintain her balance. The seemingly solid ground beneath her undulated like a living wave, challenging every fiber of her equilibrium. It was as if the floor itself had taken on a mind of its own, each step she attempted transforming into a calculated gamble. Adrift in what felt like the epicenter of an earthquake, there was nothing to cling to, nothing to stabilize herself against.

  "Cover your heads!" Zod's urgent shout rang out, cutting through the chaos.

  Trembling, Tee sank to her knees, pressing her hands firmly against her skull. She braced for the impact of falling debris, muttering curses under her breath at the Commander’s relentless trials. Yet, to her surprise, the tumult beneath her stabilized. Her knees rested firmly on the ground, her arms unscathed. Relief washed over her like a brief rain, fleeting but comforting.

  A faint, rolling sound drew her gaze upward. Her glowstick skittered across the ground, halting just before colliding with an unseen barrier. Her eyes widened—hadn’t they been in an empty expanse moments ago?

  Rising to her feet, Tee squinted, trying to pierce the darkness. The scattered glowsticks revealed an unsettling sight: towering columns had emerged, cloaking the space in deep shadows and transforming what had seemed open into an alien labyrinth.

  Before she could process it, a projectile struck her right arm with violent force, sending her stumbling onto her side.

  The echo of impacts resonated through the chamber, signaling that the others had been hit as well.

  Tee curled her legs tightly to her body, her pulse racing. One by one, the glowsticks sputtered out, plunging them into impenetrable black. She had an extra glowstick, still unused, but an instinctive warning told her not to attract attention to herself.

  Two crimson eyes floated in the air, side by side, slowly advancing. The longer Tee stared, the more a vicious ache throbbed inside her head, intensifying with each pulse. The eyes began a disorienting, erratic dance, forcing her to squeeze them shut in desperation.

  Summoning every ounce of determination, Tee sprang to her feet and summoned a sword, slashing fiercely toward the eyes. Her weapon met nothing but air.

  Impossible! How could it move so fast? Could it see in that darkness? she wondered aloud, incredulity dripping from her voice.

  Blind and vulnerable, she relied entirely on her other senses, straining to detect the subtle shifts in the environment—the faintest hint of movement, the whisper of air across the columns. Her comrades shared the same tension, each one poised and silent, waiting.

  The headache throbbed violently, though she had long ceased using her eye ability. Yet, the more she waited, the more her mind eased, and the pain gradually receded. When she dared to reopen her eyes, the same crimson orbs hovered dangerously close. She shrieked and swung her blades, again meeting only empty space. The headache flared anew each time her gaze met them. Then, abruptly, the eyes vanished, cloaked in darkness.

  "There!" Kie's voice rang out, commanding and precise. "We need to strike together!"

  The eyes reappeared, flickering defiantly in the gloom. Tee and her companions surged forward, their swords converging. Her blade struck solid matter with a jarring impact. The sound of clashing metal echoed, emanating from multiple directions, disorienting yet exhilarating.

  "Did we just strike five different targets?" Tee demanded, frustration and disbelief lacing her voice.

  "How can that be?" Kie murmured, equally confused. "There was only one pair of glowing eyes."

  "I saw it too. Right beside me," Zod confirmed, though he was distant.

  Miko screamed as the eyes shifted again. "It’s back!"

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  They lunged forward in unison, ready to strike. Yet the attacks did not originate from the same location as the eyes. Cries of pain erupted as unseen forces slammed them to the ground.

  Tee struggled to push herself up, scanning the chamber, only to find the eyes had vanished. Heart pounding, she froze, listening intently to the silence that had fallen over the group.

  Minutes passed with no further encounters. Tee, growing exasperated, muttered, "What on Geovalon are we fighting?"

  "Feels like… rock people," Zod guessed, voice tight with discomfort.

  A faint chuckle echoed through the darkness before Kie’s voice followed. "That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard."

  Saeda, recalling the strange correlation between her headaches and the eyes, suggested, "We should close our eyes."

  The room fell into a heavy silence. Could this be genius or sheer madness? Tee, recalling Saeda’s uncanny knack for solving puzzles, asked, "Did your ability tell you this? Did you see a vision?"

  "No," Saeda admitted, disappointment tingling her tone.

  "Then it’s a dreadful idea," Tee snapped.

  Kie’s voice, closer than expected, interrupted her. "No, I think she’s onto something. Let’s fight with our eyes closed, striking only what isn’t one of us."

  Tee hesitated, considering his words. Her sight had betrayed her more than once. Perhaps relying on sound—on subtle shifts in air, vibrations, and faint echoes—was the key.

  "Wait," Miko interjected. "If we close our eyes, how do we know friend from foe?"

  "Good question," Kie admitted, uncertain. "We’ll have to rely on other senses."

  Saeda suggested, "We could whistle to signal we’re not the enemy."

  "I don’t know how to whistle," Miko admitted, drawing suppressed laughter from the others.

  Zod’s tone remained earnest. "It’s not about skill. Just signal that you’re one of us."

  Kie considered the plan carefully, hoping the opponent wouldn’t interpret it. His mind-linking ability could fix that issue, but that ability was very intimate and he had no desire to connect with strangers.

  "Excellent," Tee said, inspiration lighting her eyes. She would hum a section of a song instead of whistling, providing a subtle cue to her teammates.

  Before she could act, the ground quivered once more. Red eyes reappeared. Tee shut her eyes tightly, gripping a sword in each hand. Heightened senses guided her.

  She swung blindly, feeling a solid resistance—one of the so-called “rock people.” Freeing her weapon, she resumed her assault, listening for vibrations, echoes, or sounds indicating movement or proximity of her allies.

  A sudden, high-pitched scream pierced the air. Tee froze, ceasing her humming, squeezing her eyes tighter. Her ears strained to locate the source.

  "Who was that?" she whispered, tension thick in her voice.

  The scream was followed by a series of impacts: the floor vibrated, the columns rattled, and something heavy thudded nearby. Tee swung at the sound, connecting with a solid mass. The sensation confirmed that these enemies were tangible, not mere illusions.

  A low rumble reverberated through the chamber, and a second set of glowing red eyes emerged, floating high above. Tee adjusted her stance, listening for the approach of her teammates. Synchronized humming sounded faintly in the distance, a reassuring confirmation of their unity.

  One by one, the group moved carefully, striking when necessary, retreating when attacked. Each swing, each step was measured, guided by auditory cues rather than sight. They discovered that misjudging a swing could result in being slammed to the ground or receiving a glancing blow. Pain and surprise became familiar companions, but their awareness sharpened with each encounter.

  Tee’s mind raced. The red eyes were fast, unpredictable, and multiplied in ways that defied logic. Yet, they were learning. Each strike, each missed connection provided information—sound, vibration, and timing that would eventually turn the tide.

  Tee held her stance, muscles coiled, eyes clenched shut, and struck at anything that drew near. Each contact of her blade against solid resistance confirmed the unnerving possibility of rock-like enemies lurking in the darkness.

  With a swift, fluid motion, she freed her ensnared sword with a single, precise slash and resumed her relentless assault, every swing guided by the faintest shift in air, every movement measured against the subtle sounds around her.

  She concentrated fiercely, listening for the rhythms of human presence, distinguishing them from the unnatural weight and cadence of whatever prowled this shadowed chamber.

  Then, without warning, a shrill, piercing scream tore through the silence, slicing into her nerves and freezing her mid-motion. Her humming halted abruptly, and she clenched her eyes shut even tighter, forcing herself to focus, ears straining to capture the slightest hint of direction, distance, or intention.

  “Who was that?” Tee whispered, her voice trembling just enough to betray the edge of her fear, the question hanging in the oppressive stillness. The only response was the echo of her own voice, bouncing unevenly off unseen walls and tall, shadowed columns, leaving her with nothing but the unknown pressing in from all sides.