"Survival is not a victory, but a debt. It is paid in blood, in pain, and in the pieces of yourself you leave behind on the battlefield."

  — The Culinarian's Chronicle

  Before Leo could speak, the safe house was torn apart. With a deafening screech of tortured metal and stone, the entire outer wall was ripped away as if by an invisible giant, exposing him and his team to the cold night air and the assembled ranks of Krev'an soldiers outside. The room was bathed in the crimson glow of a dozens of pulse rifles, all aimed directly at them.

  A voice boomed from the centre of the formation, deep and resonant with a mocking fury. It was the voice of Lord-General Kradus. "Did you really think I would be so easily taken, Kentarch?" he asked, the sound echoing in the ruined space. "I was aware of your pathetic little cell from the moment you entered my city. I allowed myself to be captured, to be brought to your sanctuary. I'll even thank you," he sneered, "you did me a service by eliminating Malakor and Carissa. Two thorns in my side, removed without me lifting a finger. My plan was simple: let you do my dirty work, kill you here, take the orb, and be hailed as a hero."

  His voice lost its mocking tone, replaced by a rising tide of madness. "But you... you couldn't just be clean. You had to be spectacular. I never imagined you had the gall to bring down a spire. You tore a hole in the heart of my city! An embarrassment I will have to answer for. That was a mistake I will not make again." He stopped just outside the ruined wall and produced a pressure-sealed vial from his belt. It contained a glowing, mustard-coloured liquid that pulsed with a sickly, malevolent light.

  Leo watched in horror as Kradus broke the seal with a sharp crack and downed the contents in a single swallow. For a second, there was only silence. Then, Kradus's back arched, and a sound tore from his throat that was not a bubbling shriek of impossible agony. Leo saw the man's skin split across his shoulders and back, tearing like wet parchment. Underneath was new, raw-looking crimson flesh, pulsing and expanding with horrific speed. The General's immaculate uniform, a symbol of his station, was vaporized in places and shredded in others as his entire frame erupted outwards. Leo heard a rapid, sickening crack-pop-crunch as his entire ribcage broke and reformed, widening by the second. His clavicle snapped. His spine elongated. A second set of pectoral muscles, thick and corded, seemed to inflate into existence on his chest. The shriek of pain deepened, the sound itself thickening as his larynx tore and reshaped, finally dropping into a monstrous, inhuman bellow that shook the very dust from the ruined ceiling.

  The creature that stood before them, now well over eight feet tall, was barely recognizable as Kradus. The augmented rage was a physical presence, a palpable wave of chemical heat. His skin, stretched taut over the grotesque new muscle, was a furious, unnatural crimson, laced with thick, black veins that pulsed with a life of their own. A visible, distorting aura of raw energy—the serum's promised power—shimmered around his entire form, and his eyes were no longer human. They were pits of malevolent red light, perfect mirrors of the pulse rifles aimed at them by the elite guard, who had reformed their phalanx behind their monstrous new leader.

  The fight was immediate and brutal. The elite guard flooded the ruined safe house, laying down a hail of suppressing fire that sent chips of stone flying from the walls. "Phalanx!" one roared, and the soldiers formed a disciplined, advancing wall of steel and crimson light. As they advanced, Kradus charged, a blur of crimson rage, his massive form a battering ram of pure, destructive force.

  Leo didn't need to speak. He and Lysetta immediately split, creating two simultaneous, lethal threats. He saw her go low, her longsword a blur of silver, aiming for the tendons in Kradus's legs. Leo went high, flanking to the opposite side, summoning a spear of shimmering green energy into his empty grip.

  Kradus, with a speed that defied his massive frame, contemptuously parried Lysetta's low strike with his forearm. Leo heard the high-pitched screech of steel scraping augmented flesh, the force of the blow nearly tearing the sword from her grip. The parry created an opening. Leo thrust his spear at the General's exposed neck. Kradus, impossibly fast, caught the spear's shaft in one massive hand. The green Terra energy sizzled against his skin, but it did not break through. With a roar, he snapped the haft of the spear as if it were a twig, the magical weapon dissolving into harmless motes of green light.

  Using the momentum of the break, he followed through with a brutal backhand that caught Leo square in his chest. The world exploded in white-hot agony. He was sent flying across the battlefield, his flight only stopped by the unyielding stone of the far wall. He felt more than heard the sickening crunch as his ribs gave way, and the impact drove the air from his lungs in a painful whoosh.

  Leo fought for breath, his chest a blinding sheet of agony. He tried to push himself up, but the shattered bones in his torso grated, flaring a fresh wave of agony that made his vision swim. He collapsed back, helpless, forced to watch the battle unfold in a haze of pain. He saw the elite guard's phalanx advance, a moving wall of shields and pulse rifles, pinning Rix and Réwenver behind a splintering table. Rix's grenades detonated with concussive force, but the heavy armour and shields of the guards soaked up the blasts, barely slowing their march.

  Réwenver made a desperate choice. The smuggler pushed Rix behind him. "Go!" he snarled, a command lost in the gunfire.

  He vanished. A flicker of purple energy, and Réwenver was suddenly inside the phalanx, a blur of silver as his dagger sank into the unarmoured gap at a soldier's neck. Before the others could react, he was gone again, appearing on the flank, his blade severing the power cables to another's rifle. But there were too many. A pulse bolt caught him in the shoulder, spinning him around. He just stepped again, his body a disorienting phantom, his dagger flashing. The cost was clear, even from across the room. Each time the smuggler reappeared, the spray of blood from his nose and mouth was worse. He was killing himself to buy them seconds.

  Leo, gritting his teeth against the pain, tried to help. He raised a hand, attempting to summon his bow.

  The manifestation sputtered. A few motes of light appeared and then fizzled into nothing. The pain was too intense, his focus shattered. He couldn't channel.

  He watched, powerless, as Réwenver's movements became a fraction too slow. The smuggler appeared, dagger flashing, but a guard was ready. A pulse rifle butt slammed into his side, staggering him. Another guard drove a boot into his wounded shoulder, sending him to his knees. A third leveled his rifle for the kill shot. Réwenver, coughing blood, looked up... just as the guard's pulse fire chewed through the last of Rix's cover.

  An ear-splitting shriek cut the chaos from the ruined wall. Bocce.

  Leo watched, breathless, as the great bird exploded across the battlefield, a feathered avalanche of righteous fury. The mount was a creature of pure ferocity, a monster unleashed. A guard leveled his rifle at Rix. Before Leo could even yell, Bocce was on him. His first target was the Phalanx that had them pinned; he shatters it. A guard raised his rifle, and Bocce's beak, hard as iron, smashed the weapon from his hands and caved in his helmet. His powerful talons were lethal weapons, finding the gaps in the neck seals and tearing. The bird was a whirlwind of lethal motion, stomping, kicking, and using his sheer mass to crush the disciplined soldiers underfoot.

  Leo watched the great bird hook his beak under Rix's pack, flicking her onto his back with impossible speed. With Rix secure, Bocce's rampage intensified, the great bird becoming a feathered tempest of retribution.

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  Bocce's furious charge created the opening they desperately needed. The elite guards' disciplined formation shattered. "Now!" Leo roared, forcing himself to his feet. Every breath was a fresh agony, a feeling of white-hot daggers twisting in his chest. He used the wall to shove himself upright, ignoring the grating of broken bone.

  Lysetta seized the opening. She slammed the pommel of her longsword onto the floor.

  A wave of energy erupted outwards, staggering Kradus, who had been focused on Bocce's rampage. Lysetta charged, her blade a silver streak aimed at his neck. "You were always a reckless pup, Lysetta!" Kradus bellowed.

  He was too fast. He met her charge, his huge hand clamping around her wrist with the force of a steel trap, stopping her dead. The impact sent a painful jolt up her entire arm, but he didn't just stop her. With a contemptuous laugh, he lifted her clean off her feet, her boots dangling uselessly in the air. He held her aloft, a trophy of his power, her longsword still clutched in her trapped hand.

  "This... this is what you fight with?" he sneered. His other hand closed around the blade of her sword. He squeezed. Leo watched, horrified, as the Krev'an steel, a masterwork of forge and artifice, bent and then snapped in Kradus's augmented grip. He let the broken pieces fall to the floor with a disdainful clatter.

  "Pathetic." With a final roar, he hurled her across the battlefield like a discarded doll. She skidded across the floor, crashing into a pile of rubble with a sickening sound of impact, her forehead gashing open on the broken stone. She lay still, a pool of blood beginning to form around her head.

  "You're broken, Kentarch! Look around you, your team is failing!" Kradus laughed, his attention snapping back to Leo.

  His gaze flickered, just for a second, to the chaotic brawl. Kradus was right. Rix was perched on Bocce's back, her head low as the great bird zoomed and clawed through the remaining soldiers. He saw her lob a grenade that went wide, then uselessly swing a heavy wrench at an armoured guard who swatted it aside. Réwenver was a bloody phantom, his portals becoming more ragged and desperate. He was still fighting, but it was a losing battle. Leo saw him time a portal perfectly, shunting Bocce and Rix a dozen feet to the left, a split-second before a volley of pulse fire saturated the space they'd just occupied. It was a brilliant move, but it cost him; Réwenver crumpled to one knee, as two guards converged on him.

  They were being systematically, brutally, taken apart.

  "You're just delaying your death!" Kradus finished, the laugh gone, replaced by a cold finality.

  With the General's attention fixed on him, Leo surged forward, channeling his pain into rage. His spear was snapped. Lysetta's sword was broken. He needed something that couldn't be shattered, something that would burn through the monster's defenses. He needed overwhelming force.

  The massive blade of molten fire appeared in his hands. The blade's sheer heat was a physical presence, melting the stone wall behind where he stood and warping the air around him. He charged, the greatsword a blur of orange and red as he brought it down in a powerful overhead strike.

  Kradus met the blow with his armored forearm. The sound of sizzling metal and the smell of burnt flesh filled the air. Kradus roared, but his skin, though blackened, did not break. He was faster than Leo, his augmented fists digging in the ground spraying razor-sharp stone shnel. Leo was forced back, his broken ribs screaming as he used the massive blade as both a weapon and a shield, the molten edge deflecting the deadly projectiles. "You are slow, Kentarch!" Kradus bellowed, dashing inside Leo's reach.

  Leo, his ribs screaming a protest, couldn't match the creature's speed. As Kradus langed, his massive hand reaching for his throat, Leo threw himself into a desperate roll, the wind of the blow ruffling his hair. He came up to one knee, throwing his hand out, screaming past the pain in his chest.

  A shimmering wall of multi-coloured light sprang into existence just as Kradus's follow-up strike, a brutal backhand, arrived. The barrier held for a fraction of a second, the light flaring with an angry intensity as it deflected the monstrous blow. Then it shattered, the sound a sharp tinkling of glass amid the roar of battle. The impact sent Leo stumbling, but the spell had worked. It had bought him the second he needed to regain his footing.

  The barrier's shattering had bought him a second, but Kradus was on him in an instant, his speed monstrous. He gave Leo no time to recover. As the monster's massive hand lunged for his throat, Leo, in a final, desperate act, swung the massive Zweihander in a horizontal arc. He was too close, his footing unsteady. The blow that should have decapitated Kradus only grazed him, the molten edge carving a searing, blackened gash across the General's face. Kradus roared, a sound of pure, incandescent rage. "Good!" he bellowed, his voice a gravelly explosion. "But not good enough!"

  His lunge didn't slow. Even as the blade struck him, Kradus's free hand shot out and clamped onto Leo's sword-wrist, the augmented fingers digging into his arm with crushing force. The Zweihander, still blazing, was trapped—Leo's arm held in an unbreakable vice. Simultaneously, Kradus's other hand closed around Leo's throat, lifting him clean off the ground. Leo's vision began to tunnel, the crimson lights of the room blurring into a single, hateful point as the monstrous General squeezed, the sound of his own pulse a roaring in his ears.

  He was trapped, his strength failing. He had one last option.

  The Ignium blade, still trapped in Kradus's grip, erupted in a blinding, concussive flash of white-hot light, right in Kradus's face. The monster roared, a sound of agony that was half-bellow, half-shriek. But his grip didn't loosen. The light faded to reveal a grotesque ruin; Kradus's face was a melted, blackened mask of raw flesh, his eyes burned from their sockets. But the fury remained, and the hand around Leo's throat only squeezed tighter.

  Leo's vision went from black to red. He was dying. He couldn't breathe. His strength was gone.

  "LEO!"

  Rix's voice, high and sharp, cut through his fading consciousness. From the corner of his ruined vision, he saw a chaotic, dissonant pulse of energy erupt from Bocce's back. The wave of untamed mana washed over the room. It hit Kradus like a physical blow. The monster's body, already a volatile, unstable chemical reaction, was struck by a counter-resonant frequency. Kradus screamed, a new sound, a sound of critical failure. The augmented muscles in his arm spasmed violently and released. Leo fell to the floor, landing in a heap, gasping, his throat feeling like it was full of shattered glass.

  He looked up, his vision blurry. Kradus was on his knees, roaring, his body convulsing as the augmentation went critical. His crimson skin began to glow with a terrifying, internal light. This was the opening. This was his only opening.

  Leo, gasping for air on the floor, saw his one, final chance. He pushed himself up, his body screaming in protest. He stood, pouring every last ounce of his remaining strength into the flaming blade. The sword flared, its molten light momentarily banishing the crimson gloom, its heat so intense it warped the air around it. With a final roar, he brought the massive blade down in a single, clean, horizontal arc. The superheated edge passed through the General's thick, corded neck with almost no resistance, the sound a wet hiss. Kradus's head, its face a ruined, frozen mask of rage, tumbled from his shoulders and rolled to a stop at the edge of the ruined wall. The massive, crimson body remained on its knees for a heart-stopping second.

  Just as a wave of relief washed over Leo, he heard it. A high-pitched whine, so shrill it was almost beyond hearing, began to emanate from the headless corpse. The internal, crimson light that had been sputtering began to glow brighter, pulsing with a frantic, accelerating beat. The whine climbed, intensifying with every pulse, becoming a physical, agonizing pressure in his skull.

  "KIBASZOTT POKOL!" Leo roared, his voice shredded. "IT'S GOING TO IMPLODE!"

  The high-pitched whine suddenly inverted, becoming a deafening, gut-wrenching whoomp of inrushing air. The crimson light from the corpse didn't explode outward; it intensified, becoming a pinpoint of gravitational force. The stone floor around the body began to crack and spiderweb, chunks of it being ripped from the ground and sucked towards the collapsing corpse.

  There was no escape. No portal could open fast enough to save them all from a spatial collapse. He couldn't run. He had to contain it.

  He threw his hands forward, his broken ribs screaming, his mind already forming the familiar shape of his barrier spell.

  Not enough.

  The thought was a bolt of icy terror. The familiar spell, the simple barrier he had relied on, felt like tissue paper against this. The implosion was already tearing at his cloak, pulling him forward. He needed more. He roared, in desperate will, pushing past the known limits of the spell. He clawed at the fabric of his own magic, demanding more of it. For a heart-stopping second, there was nothing, and then, something clicked.

  A new, complex matrix of shapes, intricate and powerful, flooded his mind. It was the next evolution, a spell he didn't know he had, born in the instant of his annihilation.

  He screamed as the new power tore from him. A shimmering, multi-faceted dome of pure, crystalline light erupted from his hands, enveloping the entire team a split-second before the imploding corpse finally collapsed in on itself, pulling the entire world into a silent point of absolute, crushing darkness.