Dorian and Kesi intercepted the two from the neighborhood. The forest-facing creature was left to the newly Illuminated lieutenant and a supporting squad.

  The lieutenant gripped the pair of ram horns taken from the panther Starspawn, one in each hand like short thrusting weapons. The creature charging him was squat and heavily built, covered in jagged heptagonal plates like black shale. Its gait was low and predatory. Its maw gaped open to reveal concentric rows of volcanic-glass teeth.

  “Pull it this way” Keller barked.

  The lieutenant sprinted forward, deliberately angling to the creature’s left. At the last second, he juked right, drawing its focus and forcing it to veer parallel to the firing line.

  “Fire!”

  A dozen micro-railguns erupted at once. Slugs punched into the Starspawn’s legs with terrifying precision. It howled, a deep gurgling roar, as its forelimbs buckled. Momentum carried it forward even as its limbs spasmed and failed.

  The Lieutenant didn’t hesitate.

  He rushed in low and drove one horn into the creature’s left eye with a wet crunch. It thrashed violently, dirt and debris flying as it tried to swipe at him with half-ruined limbs.

  He wrenched the horn free, rolled clear of a blind strike, then vaulted onto its back. Planting a boot between its shoulder plates, he raised the second horn and drove it down into the spine, or whatever passed for it.

  The horn punched through with a crack that echoed down the street. The creature convulsed once. Twice. Then went still.

  As it disintegrated, the lieutenant remained crouched atop its fading corpse, panting, shaking, alive.

  The Soldiers erupted in cheers.

  The first real melee kill by one of their own.

  Elsewhere, Dorian and Kesi finished their fights with brutal efficiency. Their Starspawn never stood a chance.

  All three Remnants were collected with tongs and set aside.

  Three more soldiers were Illuminated.

  Barely ten minutes after the lieutenant’s first kill, five Starspawn rushed the encampment from multiple directions.

  One of them was a Fiend.

  “Fiend!” Dorian barked, already moving.

  He and Kesi fell into their practiced rhythm without thinking, converging on the threat while the soldiers and newly Illuminated spread out to intercept the others.

  The Fiend stood nearly ten feet tall. Its barrel-like torso ended in bladed knees. Its jaw resembled the cowcatcher of a train, fractured and serrated like volcanic glass. Every movement screeched like metal under strain.

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  Dorian feinted left. Kesi swung for the flank.

  The Fiend twisted to parry Dorian with its knee-blade, exposing its side just long enough for Kesi’s strike to land. The axe carved deep.

  As it retreated, Dorian followed with a Will-charged thrust using the panther Starspawn’s tooth, gouging its shoulder.

  It was faster. Smarter than most.

  But it was alone.

  Every dodge from one put it in position for the other. The Fiend never found room to breathe.

  Around them, the soldiers held their ground. One Starspawn was gunned down when it broke the firing line, leaving only its natural weapons behind. The others were disabled methodically, Illuminated troops charging in to finish them once their legs were ruined.

  They were already learning how to fight together.

  Wounded and recognizing it was losing, the Fiend suddenly turned and fled, sprinting away on bladed kneed and tearing up asphalt as it ran.

  Will flared around Kesi’s legs. He chased it down in a blur, sweeping low and severing both Achilles tendons.

  Dorian followed, leaping nearly thirteen feet straight up. Will coiled around his good arm as he came down like a spear, driving the tooth blade through the Fiend’s skull and pinning it to the street.

  It convulsed once. Then went limp.

  A Fiend-sized Remnant remained.

  More soldiers were Illuminated.

  Within a few hours of defending against the day’s wave, the camp boasted forty-one Illuminated soldiers, not counting Dorian and Kesi.

  That created new problems.

  There were now too many Illuminated for everyone to share in kills. And the hunger manifested differently in each of them.

  For some, it was manageable. A low simmer that only flared in combat.

  For others, it was closer to addiction. When they weren’t fighting, they grew restless, irritable, jittery. A few had to be rotated out of guard duty before incidents could occur.

  To address it, Keller and Dorian reorganized the force.

  Illuminated teams were sent sweeping through the neighborhood to clear Starspawn, scavenge for supplies, and search for survivors. Enough soldiers remained behind to guard the camp, but the convoy could no longer afford to stay static.

  Hundreds of civilians depended on them.

  Teams returned with crates of canned food, bottled water, medicine. With each pass, more survivors emerged from hiding. Closets. Attics. Panic rooms.

  The number of medical cases was surprising low.

  At first, that seemed like good news.

  Then Dorian realized the truth.

  Survivor bias.

  Anyone who had actually encountered a Starspawn rarely made it back alive.

  Out of a neighborhood of nearly ten thousand, only a fraction reached the encampment.

  The hours that followed settled into a strange rhythm.

  Dorian split his time between recover and instruction. His broken arm healed slowly. Bone resisted Will far more stubbornly than flesh, and every attempt to force it only drained him faster. He could feel progress, but it came in grudging increments. His shoulder still ached beneath its scar.

  Kesi spent most of that time away from the camp.

  He led a hunting team deeper into the neighborhood, pushing into streets the two of them had deliberately avoided before. Reports filtered back in bursts. Contact made. Starspawn neutralized. No friendly losses.

  Left behind, Dorian stepped into a role he hadn’t expected.

  Mentor.

  He gathered the strongest of the Illuminated and drilled them relentlessly. Will control came first. Reinforcing limbs before impact. Redirecting force instead of meeting it head-on. Short, efficient bursts of strength rather than wasteful exertion.

  The differences became obvious quickly.

  Soldiers with four or five Remnants struggled to produce more than a faint shimmer of Will. Dorian had managed it at two. Kesi had copied the technique on his first.

  Some part of that unsettled him.

  As the soldiers grew more comfortable with their new abilities, their bodies changed with them. Most had already been trained combatants. The Remnants built on that foundation brutally, layering strength and speed onto discipline and muscle memory.

  Dorian, who had always been fit but unremarkable, realized that several of them now matched or exceeded his raw output per Remnant. Meaning if they were on equal grounds Remnant-wise, he’d be probably one of the weaker Illuminated in the bunch. That realization sat heavy. Whatever made him and Kesi special, it wasn’t just strength.

  Late in the day, another attack approached.