Varrak’s question echoed in Tee’s mind, reverberating like the faint tolling of a distant bell. The words “Xeno-victim” seeped into the corners of her consciousness, and she despised herself for even allowing the thought to linger.

  Rage surged through her, a scorching torrent that demanded release, but she couldn’t—couldn’t let it reach his face. Her breath misted against the white-tinted shield of his helmet, a fragile veil of defiance, and yet it felt almost comical how powerless she was in the moment.

  Then, as suddenly as he had seized her, Varrak released his grip on her chin, stepping back with a precision that exuded practiced dominance. The sudden chill that enveloped her was the first sign that sensation was returning to her body, inch by painstaking inch. Her limbs tingled with the faint promise of strength, yet it was inconsequential compared to the true threat that loomed.

  Varrak’s attention shifted, drawn to the room itself, now a chaotic storm of dust and debris from the shattered ceiling. The ominous crackling above grew louder, swelling into a prelude to the final crash of ceramic tiles. The walls themselves began to betray their solidity, succumbing to a creeping veneer of frost that climbed like icy fingers, claiming every surface it touched.

  A dim, malevolent light slithered forth from the distant ends of the five long archways, crawling along the floor and walls as if sentient, gradually swallowing the room. In the blink of an eye, darkness consumed everything, suffocating the once vibrant surroundings.

  Whispers, thick with sinister anticipation, slithered through the air, twisting around her senses. Tee felt the presence of beings from the dark side, creeping nearer, their approach palpable in the electric tension that vibrated through the air.

  A tremor rippled beneath her feet, emanating from some unknown source beyond the room, and it reverberated across the stone floor with a lingering resonance. Unsettling aftershocks followed, like the room itself had become alive with foreboding.

  Tee’s hands tingled unnaturally, drawing her gaze downward. She blinked in disbelief as water began to creep across her fingers, forming delicate rivulets that shimmered in the dim light. The sound of rushing water joined the whispers, rising in intensity as she looked up, only to witness torrents of water surging through the archways and cascading violently into the chamber.

  The Ether source that had protected the crater from flooding was gone, and with its absence, disaster was imminent.

  Amid this maelstrom, a holographic projection flickered to life from Varrak’s wrist, briefly drawing Tee’s attention. He stood with his back to her, radiating authority and cold certainty. “Fortunately for you,” he said, voice low and deadly, “I know when to flee.”

  Tee didn’t bother scanning the room for others—she knew, with a sinking certainty, that he spoke directly to her. Brilliant orbs of white light pierced the darkness, coalescing into a radiant form that expanded and pulsed. Varrak’s battle suit glowed with reflected brilliance, an awe-inspiring display of power. Stepping through the radiant vortex, he vanished entirely, leaving Tee alone amid the growing chaos.

  Kie had secured the Ether stone, granting them—and also Varrak—the power of teleportation. As the white vortex dissipated, Tee’s surroundings plunged into a darkness tenfold more oppressive than before, the air heavy with an almost tangible malice. The whispers became a haunting howl, and her eyes darted frantically to track a swarm of entities pouring through the narrow gaps at the tops of the archways.

  “Freck,” she whispered, the word escaping in a gasp as a jolt of pain stabbed her chest—a visceral testament to the sheer terror gripping her.

  Above, the dark beings swarmed like a frenzied school of silverfish, twisting and writhing in chaotic, mesmerizing patterns. Attempting to focus on any single creature was maddening, their numbers infinite, their movement impossible to predict.

  Their elongated bodies resembled tattered black cloth, riddled with holes that shimmered faintly in the oppressive darkness. Each had a lump atop its form serving as a grotesque head, marked by two spinning white eyes that drew intricate webs of light as they darted through the air with uncanny speed.

  Yet the true horror lay below. High-pitched screams erupted from the floor, piercing Tee’s ears with a ferocity that made her head spin. Her gaze, reluctantly torn from the airborne swarm, fell upon the writhing, tormented figures beneath.

  “Master, don’t leave us!” a desperate, grown woman’s cry rent the air, instantly transforming into a harrowing, ear-splitting scream before cutting off abruptly.

  The soldier had previously undertaken a mission with Varrak, well aware of the horrors that followed the removal of the village’s heart. Despite the urgent warnings on her wrist communicator, she had refused to believe that Varrak had already abandoned them.

  Aware that only Varrak could create the vortexes necessary for escape, the soldier realized with chilling clarity that if he had truly left, he would not return for them. The creature scourging the metropolis, relentless and insatiable, posed an insurmountable threat.

  Screams erupted from every corner, assaulting Tee’s ears like a barrage of needles, each shriek more excruciating than the last. Her gaze darted among the debris from the shattered ceiling and toppled statues, revealing miniature domes formed by the swirling dark entities. Traces of red light flickered through these domes, revealing soldiers struggling against the ravenous onslaught.

  The cacophony gradually subsided, replaced by bone-chilling cracks and snaps as the creatures dispersed, emitting shrieks that cut through the very marrow of her bones. An empty helmet struck the ground with a resonant “konk”, rolling to rest at Tee’s feet. The body that had once worn it was gone, leaving clothes and gear strewn across the floor. Her eyes widened in shock at the gruesome realization.

  More screams erupted—agonized, raw cries from men and women who had feigned death. Chunks of flesh were torn away as the creatures fed, alive, on their victims. The intensity of the horror was almost too much to bear. Finally able to move her hands, Tee instinctively clutched her ears, attempting to drown out the continuing reverberations of the screams. Even after the noise subsided, phantom echoes lingered in her mind.

  Rising to her feet, she scanned the room, relieved to find she wasn’t under immediate attack. The ends of the creatures’ cloth-like forms brushed against her skin, fragile and wispy, sending shivers down her spine. Suppressing the urge to cry out, she pressed her chin against the touch-sensitive surface of her telecom device.

  “The main man just left! We should leave now!” she shouted, her voice barely rising above the chaos.

  Kie’s voice crackled urgently through the device. “Is anyone else not getting attacked, or is it just me?”

  Tee pressed the yellow button, activating her holo-map. Kie’s name tag glowed amid a mass of thousands of swirling creatures. At first, she resisted the thought of joining him, but she knew that regrouping was essential if they were to teleport safely.

  Steeling herself, Tee took a step toward Kie, only to have a claw, rib-bone in length, narrowly miss her face. She exhaled shakily, questioning her own fear. After all, the creatures had not attacked her before.

  Reassured, she held her breath, shut her eyes, and bolted forward, threading through the chaotic dome. Some creatures parted for her, while others whipped past, generating gentle, teasing breezes along her skin.

  When the whispers ceased and the cloth-like touches no longer grazed her, she opened her eyes to find Kie staring back. The telecom’s guidance had been accurate—he was isolated within the dome, alone.

  A scream erupted from his device: “I think it’s the stone.” Tee’s eyes widened as she saw the massive diamond resting in Kie’s hand.

  Startled, she exclaimed, “Wait, what?” Her attention shifted immediately as something materialized behind her at impossible speed. She screamed and instinctively recoiled, turning to see Saeda kneeling before her.

  Saeda trembled violently, sobbing, her hands scraped raw and bleeding. A creeping shiver raced through Tee as she witnessed the intensity of her comrade’s suffering. In that instant, Saeda seemed to prefer death to enduring this torment, oblivious to Kie beside her.

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  Kie pressed the stone into Tee’s hands, which she gripped tightly, yet her gaze remained locked on Saeda. He leaned closer, ready to touch her, but froze inches from the bloodied flesh.

  “Who did this to you?” he asked. Saeda’s response was only more wails, each a fresh stab of anguish piercing Tee’s heart.

  Nearby, Zod and Miko tore through the creature-made barrier, fighting off elongated claws that shredded their flesh. Wounded, exhausted, they collapsed to their knees, mirroring Saeda’s battered form. Miko, swift and nimble, had fewer injuries but bore the same weariness.

  Kie’s brow furrowed as he rose, concern etched into his features. “How did you—” he began, then froze as his gaze fell on Tee, sprawled motionless on the ground, the diamond abandoned.

  No time for questions. Zod’s voice urged, “Do it already!”

  Kie saw that his teammates had activated their telecoms, except for Tee and himself. Rushing to her side, he nudged her gently. Her body bore no visible wounds, despite her memory of entering the dome unharmed.

  Clenching his telecom’s button between his teeth, Kie pressed down on Tee’s wrist and a blinding white light engulfed them. In an instant, the scars on their bodies were revealed, stark against pale skin as they vanished from the chamber.

  The blinding white light receded to reveal the mission base, an organized chaos of Primus workers rushing forward with disciplined efficiency. Tee’s senses sharpened as she took in the scene. The bloodied, battered forms of her teammates being attended to, their labored breaths echoing through the sterile corridors.

  "Young squire, step back, for we shall take charge henceforth," one of the Primus operatives commanded, his tone firm and uncompromising as he addressed Kie. Without hesitation, Kie complied, retreating just a step to allow the specialists—marked by hair of vibrant, impossible colors—to surround his companions.

  Symbols of radiant light flared beneath the bodies of the fallen comrades. The glow rose from the floor, enveloping each figure in a cocoon of energy before slowly fading, as the Vergants combined their powers to levitate the stretcher beds. The team’s battered forms were carried away with careful precision, the magic and technology of Primus intertwining to ensure safe transport to medical treatment.

  Tee blinked and realized she was no longer on the floor of the mission base. The cold metal of a medical bed pressed against her back. Her eyes snapped open, and she instantly registered the panic flaring in the faces of the staff preparing to tend to her—or perhaps move her into a cleansing pod.

  Unlike her teammates, Tee was unscathed, yet she remained motionless, feigning unconsciousness with the meticulousness of a trained deceiver. Every fiber of her being radiated controlled patience. She allowed herself the smallest inward sigh of triumph. Her deception was flawless thus far.

  Frustration swelled within her chest, and with a sudden burst of force, she bellowed at the medical staff, demanding they leave immediately. Her glare burned through them as if she could strip away their very intent. Slowly, hesitantly, the staff retreated.

  One individual, turning their back to her, murmured in a calm, measured tone, “She hath no desire to be touched.”

  Another nodded, adding, “Verily, it is evident that she requires not our assistance.”

  Tee’s gaze lingered on them as they exited, her disdain simmering. With the immediate threat removed, she turned her attention to a nearby cabinet filled with pristine white shirts and pants.

  She discarded the blood-stained remnants of her battle-worn attire with deliberate care, then dressed herself in the fresh garments. Each movement was precise, almost ritualistic. Using soft towels and clean water from the sink, she meticulously washed away any lingering traces of crimson, ensuring no evidence of the past chaos clung to her. Once cleansed, she allowed herself a moment to center her thoughts, seeking the familiar confines of the infirmary where her teammates would eventually awaken.

  The lie she was crafting in her mind became a mantra, repeated over and over. Just like her companions, she had been under siege. The exceptions—Kie’s immunity because of the stone’s protection—were accounted for in her story, leaving no cracks for suspicion to seep through. Every detail of her deception had to be flawless. After all, Jack had once called her the “master of deception,” a title Tee intended to uphold with absolute certainty.

  "Are you absolutely certain that’s what transpired?" Kie’s voice, filtered through a hologram, broke the rhythm of her thoughts, laced with curiosity and a quiet edge of concern.

  Tee lifted her gaze, locking eyes with him across the digital interface. “Yes,” she said plainly, her tone carrying the weight of irrefutable truth.

  Kie’s unwavering stare lingered on her, scanning for inconsistencies. He didn’t notice the subtle scars on her body, a testament to Tee’s careful concealment. Relief flickered across his features, a quiet acknowledgment that she had indeed emerged unscathed from the chaos. For a fleeting moment, he allowed himself the luxury of not scrutinizing every detail.

  There was no denying it, Kie harbored feelings for Tee, though he remained uncertain of their permanence. Over his time in the Mid-Guard, he had encountered many who had captivated him only to disappoint. That uncertainty gnawed at him as he weighed his admiration for Tee against the possibility of misjudgment.

  Their hour-long conversation drew to a close. Kie finally conceded, his voice calm and accepting, admitting that perhaps his perception had been distorted—hallucinations or overactive concern, he could not be sure. He resolved to bide his time, observing Tee quietly to discern if his feelings evolved into something deeper, without rushing or forcing a revelation.

  Tee, meanwhile, focused on the tactile engagement of the special glove on her hand. Delicately, she pressed one of the three holographic barrels displayed before her. The lid swung open with a muted click, revealing emptiness inside. Across the screen, in vivid crimson, the words “You lose” flashed. Frustration surged, and she clenched her fist, striking the table with a sharp thunk, a physical outlet for the vexation she felt toward the concept of games themselves.

  Outside, a flash of lightning split the sky, followed by the distant roll of thunder. Tee’s gaze drifted to the curtained window, watching raindrops stream down the glass. The streaks of water played tricks on her eyes, mimicking tears that traced her reflection, evoking memories long buried.

  She recalled her youth, when the crackling of lightning and booming thunder would bring unbidden tears to her eyes. Back then, she would switch off the heaters, cocooning herself in the comforting embrace of her bedsheets, seeking refuge in warmth and isolation.

  Tetra would enter quietly, closing the Xenosapian-proof door behind them. Within that small, sealed sanctuary, they found solace from the world outside—a world that was often cruel, incomprehensible, and dangerous.

  Tetra, impervious to Xenosapian mutations even before Tee fully understood the implications of curse marks, would sit behind her, combing her hair with gentle precision. They would remain in that cocoon until dawn, emerging together to greet the sun’s first light, a rare and fleeting peace.

  The echoes of past adventures lingered in Tee’s mind. “I can’t believe we were at an abandoned Vergant village,” Zod remarked, his voice tinged with awe. “And that ceremony they held for us—still on my mind. It was amazing. We should ask the Commander to let us go out again.”

  Miko’s tone was firm, unwavering: “Yes, I am sure he would allow us.” Her smile remained radiant, the kind of unwavering optimism that Tee sometimes envied.

  Tee interjected lightly, though her voice carried a hint of concern. “You make it sound like we’re going to be here for a while, Zod.”

  “I’d rather be here than at home,” Saeda replied without hesitation, her words carrying a blend of relief and defiance. “Far, far away from the wicked witch of the west, so no complaints from me.”

  Kie, ever the introspective one, muttered under his breath, “God-like powers… I can’t wait to see what I’m capable of. I could become the greatest MG official to ever live.” His gaze drifted inward, measuring his own potential against the vast, impossible challenges he’d faced and would continue to face.

  Tee, grateful for a brief respite from Kie’s persistent questioning about the dome mission, reached for her coffee mug. She downed three hurried mouthfuls of the mediocre brew, the bitter taste washing over her tongue and distracting her from the mental exhaustion she had been suppressing.

  For once, the relentless repetition of their mission debriefing faded, and she allowed herself the small luxury of exhaling. The fabricated details she had carried throughout the chaos could finally rest, tucked away safely within her mind, a secret kept from all but herself.

  The rain outside continued its relentless assault against the windows, the distant rumble of thunder punctuating the rhythm of her thoughts. Tee’s reflection stared back at her, framed by droplets of rain that mirrored tears she had not shed. In that quiet, fleeting moment, the weight of survival, deception, and loyalty pressed down upon her chest—a reminder that even in the wake of terror, life demanded vigilance, cunning, and the willingness to endure.

  She closed her eyes briefly, letting the storm outside sync with the tempest within. The mission, the dome, the creatures, the relentless whispers of the dark entities—all of it was behind her, yet indelibly etched in memory. She allowed herself a subtle, almost imperceptible smirk.

  She had survived. She had endured. And she would continue to navigate the perilous path that lay ahead, carrying with her the lessons of deception, the burdens of unspoken truths, and the fragile bonds that tethered her to her teammates, to Kie, and to the world that demanded heroes—even when they were unwilling.

  Tee’s fingers brushed against the holographic interface of the game once more, her focus narrowing. She could feel the pulse of the energy in her hands, the latent power that had carried her through the dome, through darkness and terror, and now into a moment of calculated reprieve.

  Every scar, every bruised limb of her teammates, every memory of screams and ice and swirling dark forms reinforced her resolve. She would master control—not just of the powers she wielded, but of the delicate art of survival, of manipulation, and of strategic deception.

  She took a slow, deliberate sip of coffee, letting the bitterness ground her as she observed Kie across the holographic projection. His face, a mask of curiosity and concern, reminded her that some truths could be bent, some realities carefully navigated.

  She had won today, not through brute strength, not through overt displays of power, but through patience, cunning, and the careful management of perception. And in a world teetering between order and chaos, that skill was as lethal as any weapon.