The desert stretched on in a wavering haze of orange and white, heat shimmering from the glass-bladed

  dunes. The team had been walking for close to an hour since their fight with the fire beasts, the

  remnants of melted terrain glinting behind them like shards of a broken mirror. Ahead, the mountains

  rose from the sand, dark ridges and pale spires, the kind of landscape that divided one world from

  another.

  Portal 317’s map flickered faintly on their watches, each beacon pulsing with a soft blue glow. They

  were close.

  “Another two klicks,” Nyra said, glancing at her wrist display. “Elevation starts to climb at that ridge.”

  Rixor adjusted the strap of his hammer, scanning the horizon. “About time. I was getting tired of

  melting.”

  Calen grinned. “Thought you liked heat. Builds character.”

  “Heat builds blisters,” Rixor muttered. “Character’s overrated.”

  Bash let the exchange fade into the background, eyes on the shifting terrain ahead. The sand was

  thinning, replaced by harder rock and streaks of mineral glass. He felt S-C’s quiet hum in the back of

  his mind, the soft pulse of her voice layered over the wind.

  “Elevation increase confirmed. Ambient temperature dropping by four degrees. You’re entering the

  transition zone between the desert and the mountain biomes.”

  “Good,” Bash said under his breath. “We’ve had enough fire for one day.”

  They moved in a loose formation as the ground began to rise, the slope subtle but steady. The desert

  wind grew stronger, curling against the cliffs ahead. Bits of dust and glimmering shards skated past

  their boots.

  The team crested a small ridge, and the terrain opened before them. The mountains loomed much larger

  now, layered slopes of grey and red stone, their upper edges fractured into dark silhouettes against the

  fading sun.

  “Map says the signature was near the base of that formation,” Liora said, pointing toward a jutting cliff

  about a kilometer away. “Looks like a minor cave system. Could be a nest, or a den.”

  “Or bait,” Taren murmured.

  Bash nodded. “We’ll treat it like both. Standard formation.”

  They fell into position automatically, Rixor, Liora, and Darik up front, their heavier frames taking the

  lead; Bash and Taren midline; Nyra and Calen bringing up the rear. The rhythm was familiar,

  comforting in its precision.

  By the time they reached the foot of the cliffs, the air had shifted again. The wind funneled through the

  stone, low and constant, carrying the faint metallic tang of mineral dust. The ground had hardened to

  slate and fractured rock.

  “Any visuals?” Bash asked.

  Nyra scanned with her scope. “Negative. Just rock and heat shadows.”

  They spread out slightly, eyes sweeping the ridges. The faint glow of their armor picked up reflections

  from the glass veins running through the stone, streaks of blue, green, and gold left by centuries of

  molten storms.

  “Hold up,” Taren said suddenly. “Thirty meters up, there.”

  Bash followed her gaze. A dark hollow opened in the cliffside, almost hidden by an overhang of stone.

  The edges around it were scorched and uneven, like something had burned its way out long ago.

  “Trail to it,” Rixor said, pointing to the faint zigzag of a worn path. “Not steep. Hundred meters tops.”

  “Alright,” Bash said. “Let’s go see what’s inside.”

  They started up the incline, boots grinding against stone and gravel. The path twisted as it rose, narrow

  enough that they had to move single file. Calen climbed near the back, muttering under his breath.

  “Feels too easy.”

  “Then be ready for when it’s not,” Nyra said quietly.

  As they neared the cave, the temperature dropped again, not much, but enough to make the air feel

  heavy. The inside was pure black, the light from their armor barely reaching five meters in.

  “Can’t see anything,” Liora whispered.

  “Keep distance,” Bash said, motioning them back a few paces. “No one go in blind.”

  The next sound made every one of them freeze, a sharp, piercing screech that tore through the air. It

  wasn’t the guttural roar of a beast, but something shriller, layered, almost metallic. The sound echoed

  across the rocks, bounced off the walls, and came again from deeper within.

  “Contact,” Rixor hissed, bringing his hammer up.

  “Back down,” Bash ordered. “Give it space.”

  They retreated down the slope, boots slipping against the loose gravel, eyes locked on the cave mouth.

  The darkness seemed to breathe, expanding and contracting, and then, without warning, something

  burst from within.

  A massive shape surged into the fading light.

  It was birdlike, but only in outline. The creature’s wings stretched wide, feathers edged with a sheen

  like molten glass. Its eyes burned silver-white, twin lamps cutting through the dusk. Its head twisted

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  unnaturally far as it screamed again, a sound that split the wind itself.

  “Holy...” Calen started, but the word caught in his throat.

  The creature beat its wings once, twice, the wind it generated nearly throwing them off their footing. It

  soared upward, then circled and landed on a petrified tree jutting from the mountainside. The branch

  bent but didn’t break.

  Rixor’s grip tightened around his hammer. “That thing’s huge.”

  “Estimate?” Bash asked quietly.

  Taren scanned it. “Wingspan’s… ten meters, maybe twelve. Weight, can’t tell. Looks like layered

  mineral under the feathers.”

  Bash narrowed his eyes. “S-C?”

  “Unknown,” the she replied. “No match found in existing databases. Energy signature inconsistent with

  standard elemental profiles. This creature is unrecorded. The prior icon in this area likely corresponded

  to another entity. Probability high that this specimen eliminated it.”

  Bash’s stomach tightened. “So this thing’s off-map.”

  “Correct.”

  The owl shifted, its gaze fixed directly on them. It didn’t move. It just watched, eyes glinting with faint,

  liquid light.

  No one spoke for several seconds. The silence was unnerving, broken only by the faint rustle of sand

  down the mountain slope.

  “What’s the call?” Rixor asked finally.

  “Hold,” Bash said. “No reason to pick a fight until we know what we’re looking at.”

  The creature turned its head, feathers ruffling, and let out a low, rolling sound, not quite a growl, not

  quite a purr.

  Then Calen muttered, “We’re wasting time,” and pulled an arrow from his quiver.

  Bash’s hand shot out. “Calen, wait.”

  “I’ll take the shot clean,” Calen said, already drawing the bowstring back.

  “On my mark,” Bash said through clenched teeth, eyes never leaving the bird. “If it moves first...”

  “Got it.”

  The bowstring thrummed. Wind essence gathered around the arrow’s tip, spiraling into a tight coil. The

  shot hissed through the air, arrow cutting the wind in a clean, perfect line toward the creature’s chest.

  But before it struck, something flashed from the cave, a blur of motion and color.

  A small bird, no larger than a hawk, darted out and intercepted the arrow mid-flight. The wind burst

  exploded harmlessly around it, scattering feathers into the fading light. The tiny creature fluttered once,

  wings shimmering blue, and then vanished back into the cave.

  The entire team froze.

  For a moment, no one breathed.

  Then Bash’s chest tightened with sudden recognition, the kind that hit too deep, too fast.

  Taren whispered, “No… it can’t be.”

  Liora’s face paled. “Tell me that wasn’t...”

  Bash’s voice was low. “It was.”

  Every one of them flashed back to that first portal, the white world, the clearing, the impossible

  moment when the first summoner had appeared. The one they’d barely survived.

  “Everyone,” Bash said evenly, his voice cutting through the still air. “Get off the mountain.”

  No one argued.

  They began descending quickly, weapons still drawn, eyes locked on the cave above. Gravel slid

  beneath their boots, dust curling in the air. The massive owl shifted again, feathers bristling as a new

  sound echoed from the cave, not one, but many.

  Shapes began to appear in the shadows.

  At first, they looked like small birds, dozens of them, but as they stepped into the light, the truth

  became clear.

  Some were winged, others crawled on jointed limbs, their bodies covered in feathers and scales.

  Essence light flickered in their chests, red, green, gold, each carrying a trace of different elemental

  sources. But it was their eyes that confirmed it: glowing white, uniform and empty, the unmistakable

  mark of summoned creatures. One by one they poured from the cave, a living storm of mismatched

  forms, each bound to the owl’s resonance.

  “Count’s rising fast,” Nyra said, backing up beside Bash. “We’ve got at least forty, no, fifty.”

  “Seventy-four,” S-C corrected in his head. “And increasing.”

  Rixor cursed under his breath. “It’s a summoner, isn’t it?”

  Bash’s jaw tightened. “Yeah.”

  S-C’s voice was calm but sharp.

  “Reminder: attacking summoned entities will not eliminate the summoner. Summoners are typically

  fragile but capable of overwhelming output through proxies. Optimal target priority: summoner first.”

  Bash stopped mid-step, his boots grinding against the rock.

  “Everyone!” he shouted, loud enough to echo off the cliffs. “We need to kill the giant bird, now!”

  The words had barely left his mouth before the owl reacted. Its head snapped toward him, eyes igniting

  with sudden brilliance.

  Then it screamed.

  The sound hit like a shockwave, rippling through the air. The smaller summons shrieked in response

  and began to move as one, charging down the slope toward the team.

  The ground trembled with their steps.

  And from above, the summoner spread its wings wide, blotting out the sun.