The forest no longer sang.

  The hum they’d heard earlier had deepened, stretching into a vibration that ran through their bones, not

  sound, not wind, but something subtler. The geometry of the world itself seemed slightly off, like every

  direction had shifted a few degrees.

  Bash slowed, raising a hand. “Eyes up.”

  They spread into formation: Rixor, Liora, and Darik pushing ahead; Bash mid-right flank; Taren leftmid; Nyra and Calen holding the rear.

  The metallic forest stretched silent before them, trunks like dark glass, roots like bent iron. Then,

  movement.

  Shapes emerged from behind the trees, tall, sinuous, mirror-black forms sliding from shadow to light.

  Seven in total. The air bent around them, their outlines shimmering like water over heat.

  “Contacts,” Bash said quietly.

  Before anyone could aim, the beasts rippled.

  The seven vanished, the world blinked, and when it came back, they were gone from ahead and

  standing around the team in a perfect circle, fifteen meters out.

  Bash muttered. “They’re surrounding.”

  The Veilrend Phasari didn’t growl, didn’t move, didn’t breathe loud enough to be heard. They stood

  perfectly still, the faint distortion in the air marking their presence, seven mirages waiting to pounce.

  Then they struck.

  Light twisted.

  Nyra fired first, her scope flaring crimson. Calen followed, wind arrows streaking. Bash threw both

  blades, Taren fired her sidearms in the same instant.

  The melee trio surged forward, Rixor’s hammer crackling, Liora’s blade glowing with mineral

  resonance, Darik’s gauntlets humming.

  And then, space folded.

  The beasts phased as one, vanishing and reappearing on the opposite side of each target. Every ranged

  projectile, the bullets, the arrows, the knives, followed the distortion through and reemerged out of

  alignment.

  Nyra’s bullet punched through her own shoulder. Calen’s arrow tore across his ribs.

  Bash’s knife ripped a shallow gash along his back. Tarens bullets punctured her shoulder blade.

  The three melee Spartors stumbled as their swings met nothing, only for pain to bloom across their

  spines as invisible slashes tore through them.

  “Down!” Taren shouted, throwing herself between them. The crackling air still hummed with distorted

  echoes as she slid to her knees beside Rixor, one hand already glowing faint green while healing

  herself.

  Essence flared through her palm and into his armor, sealing the gash across his back with a hiss of

  vapor. She pivoted instantly, pressing her other hand against Liora’s shoulder, then Bash’s side. Each

  touch left trails of pale light that shimmered, pulsing in rhythm with their heartbeats.

  “Hold still,” she hissed, breath tight. “No deep healing, just enough to keep you on your feet.”

  The glow dimmed as she pulled her hands back, fingers trembling. The wounds stopped bleeding,

  though pain still burned beneath the armor.

  The beasts had already faded again, watching from beyond the trees.

  The forest around them bent strangely. Sounds echoed from the wrong direction, a branch snapping

  behind them echoed to the left; the crunch of boots came from above.

  Bash crouched, scanning the haze. “They’re folding the terrain,” he said. “We’ve seen distortions like

  this before, like the Blink Step beasts.”

  “So they can phase?” Rixor growled, his hammer tightening in his grip.

  S-C’s voice flickered in his mind, sharp and precise.

  “Confirmed: pack coordination detected. They’re folding space collectively, forming a shared lattice.

  Their perception is doubled within it, intelligence level, high.”

  Bash’s eyes narrowed. “They can phase as a pack,” he said aloud, relaying what only he could hear.

  “And they’re smart, coordinated.”

  Rixor grunted, hefting his hammer. “Great. So we’re fighting geniuses that can teleport.”

  The team tightened their formation, backs together in a defensive ring. Steam rose faintly from armor

  where the air distorted around them.

  “They’re watching us,” Taren said softly.

  “Good,” Bash muttered. “Then they’ll listen, too.”

  He turned toward Liora and Darik. “Erect barriers. Move them, herd the bastards.”

  Both nodded, slamming their gauntlets to the ground. Jagged mineral pillars erupted upward, forming

  shifting walls of metallic stone that boxed in the beasts’ outer circle.

  “Calen,” Bash said. “Shoot a wind arrow high. When they’re distracted, curve it down. Hit one from

  above.”

  Calen hesitated. “You want me to blindfire into a spatial fold?”

  “Yeah,” Bash said flatly. “That’s exactly what I want.”

  The Phasari didn’t move as the pillars began to close in. The air between them shimmered faintly, like

  ripples on still water. They had split into smaller groups, each pair mirroring the others, their outlines

  flickering like ghosts.

  “Now,” Bash whispered.

  He threw a knife low, not at them, but at their feet. One of the beasts shifted backward to avoid it. In

  the same instant, Calen released his arrow. It cut through the air silently, then curved down like a streak

  of blue lightning.

  It struck the creature in the shoulder.

  The Phasari shrieked, a sharp, glassy sound like space itself tearing. Its pair lunged forward instantly,

  both charging the team.

  “Hold!” Bash barked.

  Liora and Darik braced themselves, slamming shields down just as the beasts phased again.

  They reappeared in front of Nyra and Taren, claws flashing. Both women went down hard, armor

  sparking from the impact.

  The instant one of the Phasari’s claws raked across Taren’s arm, her thorns field triggered, a rippling

  surge of mirrored essence bursting outward. The wounded beast shrieked as spiked light flared from the

  contact, burning into its hide.

  The aura’s energy crawled across its body, the same one Calen had struck with his arrow moments

  earlier. Wounds opened along its side as it stumbled back, its partner dragging it into the haze.

  Bash’s gaze tracked the motion. “Ripples,” he said suddenly. “They ripple right before they appear.”

  He looked around at the team. “Did you see it?”

  Taren, clutching her shoulder, nodded. “Barely. I wasn’t ready.”

  “Good enough,” Bash said. “That’s the plan.”

  He pointed quickly. “Darik, mineral wall in front of Taren. Liora, same in front of Calen. When they

  phase, they’ll go for the gaps. When you see the ripple, attack. Everyone else, hit whatever appears.

  Nyra, use DoT.”

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  The two mineral users slammed their gauntlets again, forming barriers in front of their teammates.

  The air shifted.

  Two Phasari launched forward. Bash and Rixor braced for impact, then the beasts vanished mid-charge.

  Ripples shimmered in front of Nyra and Darik.

  “Now!” Bash shouted.

  Nyra fired. Darik’s blade cleaved through one of the distortions. The beast screamed, a shrill, echoing

  cry, Bash followed Darik’s attack quickly, striking the beast’s eye dead center with one of his blades.

  The creature convulsed once, its form collapsing in on itself like light folding through shattered glass.

  The pulse hit him like lightning, raw, sharp, absolute. His vision flared white for a heartbeat, static

  filling the edges of his mind.

  S-C’s voice cut cleanly through it.

  “Essence assimilation complete. Tier Two Greater, Space classification. No unlock detected.”

  Bash staggered, teeth clenched against the burn still running through his chest. The others didn’t notice

  they were too busy breathing, too busy surviving.

  Across the field, the remaining five Phasari moved. Their distortions flared in unison, lines of colorless

  light threading between them like cracked glass.

  Rixor’s voice came through strained. “They’re syncing!”

  “They’re pissed,” Bash muttered.

  Then the world erupted.

  Five Phasari blinked into existence from every direction, rending the air with slicing arcs of vacuum.

  The team held formation, backs nearly touching.

  “Watch for ripples!” Bash shouted again.

  Everywhere, distortions flared, too many to count. Claws carved into mineral shields, space twisting

  like fluid. Rixor’s hammer crackled as he caught one mid-lunge, slamming it down and shattering part

  of its foreleg. Liora caught another’s swipe on her blade, sparks cascading from the strain.

  Calen loosed another wind arrow. The distortion caught it mid-flight, it bent, curved, and struck the

  same beast in its side as it tried to retreat.

  Nyra pivoted, scope flashing. “Left side!”

  She fired, the bullet tracing a streak of orange through the air. It hit one Phasari square in the chest. Its

  body convulsed, glowing faintly as the poison burned through.

  The beast shrieked and tried to phase away, but as it vanished, it swapped with another mid-attack. The

  second appeared in its place, already bleeding from Nyra’s shot, and Taren’s shots tore into it, sending

  healing aura to the team.

  The swap landed the wounded Phasari right in front of Rixor. He swung once, hard.

  The hammer came down like a meteor, snapping bone and plate. The beast collapsed instantly.

  The pulse hit, sharper this time, a tearing surge through his chest that made his vision flicker white.

  S-C’s voice came through, steady but edged with static.

  “Essence assimilation registered. Tier Two Greater, Space classification. Second occurrence. No unlock

  detected.”

  Bash gritted his teeth, steadying his breath as the aftershock faded.

  He barely caught his breath before Nyra’s second shot echoed, a clean hit through another beast’s skull.

  Calen followed with an arrow, finishing it.

  Another pulse.

  The remaining Phasari froze, their distortions pulsing erratically, panic breaking through precision.

  Then they screamed, all at once, and rushed in.

  “Ripples!” Bash shouted.

  The air exploded in motion, flickers of movement, flashes of claws, bodies vanishing and reappearing

  meters apart.

  Taren’s eyes darted wildly, tracking shimmer after shimmer. The Phasari had already learned to avoid

  her, every time they struck, the thorns aura burned back through their own hide, leaving mirrored scars

  across their sleek bodies.

  Now she focused her efforts on the team instead, snapping her pistols toward any flicker of movement

  near them. Each impact burst in faint green light, closing wounds and knitting torn armor even as new

  ones appeared.

  The air around her pulsed with alternating waves of restoration and pressure, every shot a heartbeat that

  kept the squad standing.

  “They’re overheating!” S-C’s voice cut through Bash’s skull. “Spatial organs reaching critical strain!”

  “Then finish it!” he barked.

  Rixor smashed one aside. Liora’s blade caught another as it tried to vanish, splitting it cleanly across

  the chest.

  Another pulse hit Bash, two more, rapid and violent, as the Phasari fell one after another.

  The last three tried to retreat, their folds weaker, distance shortening. Each reappeared barely six meters

  away, flickering uncontrollably.

  “Now!”

  Every ranged weapon fired at once. Bullets, arrows, and essence bursts converged in a single storm.

  Within seconds, the remaining three fell, their bodies fracturing into motes of fractured glass.

  Bash felt the last pulses hit, sharp, electric, and then nothing.

  Bash exhaled slowly, the words echoing dully in his head. The silence that followed felt heavier than

  the fight itself.

  “Over-phased,” S-C said quietly. “They exceeded spatial stability thresholds. Cooldown lag increased,

  created fatal vulnerability.”

  Bash closed his eyes, exhaling slowly. “Yeah. Noted.”

  The clearing went still.

  Even the distortions faded, leaving only the normal rhythm of the forest, the metallic wind rustling

  faintly through the trees.

  The others regrouped, breathing hard. Armor torn a few bleeding through cracked seals.

  Taren holstered her pistols and began moving from one to the next, her hands glowing faint green as

  she patched shallow wounds. “No deep repairs,” she murmured. “You’ll all live.”

  They didn’t speak much after that. Liora and Darik collected fragments, pale glass-like shards that

  shimmered faintly before dimming.

  Rixor found a patch of stable ground and sat down heavily. “I hate invisible things,” he muttered.

  Calen gave a weak laugh. “You and me both.”

  Bash didn’t respond. He just stood there for a long moment, looking out into the trees where the folds

  had vanished.

  Finally, he said quietly, “We camp here.”

  No one argued.

  By the time Taren finished tending wounds, the fires were lit, small, smokeless, shimmering faintly off

  the metallic bark.

  They ate in silence.

  S-C’s voice murmured in the back of Bash’s mind.

  “Confirmed: seven T2G Space pulses. No unlock detected.”

  He didn’t reply.

  He just stared into the faint shimmer of the flames, the reflected forest bending slightly in their glow,

  and wondered how many more worlds it would take before something finally changed.