Rox's boots landed softly, one after another, across the metal roofs of the armored vehicles—each impact sending a low metallic thud that made officers and Eidric sorcerers inside glance upward in brief alarm.
Conversations died for a second; the air inside each vehicle tightened as her shadow flashed past their windows.
"Was that—?"
"The commander's new dog, Rox, ex-pilot from the Corvi empire"
The corrupted air whipped her cloak as she streaked through the fog, her body cutting through the bluish haze like a blur of motion.
Each leap carried her farther, faster, the faint hum of her boots leaving ripples of disturbed mist in her wake.
*thud!
Finally, she landed near the rear of the convoy—where chaos was already unfolding.
*bang! *bang! *bang! *bang!
Soldiers shouted over the noise of gunfire, firing blindly into the blackened fog that surrounded them.
The air stank of burned ozone and blood.
Blue lanterns flickered violently, their light struggling to pierce the darkness.
Rox's visor flickered through the data feed, picking up movement—erratic, fast, circling.
"Hold formation!" someone yelled desperately.
"Where is it!? I can't see shit—!"
"Reload, reload, it's coming back!"
Rox crouched low on the roof of a nearby transport, her sharp eyes catching the faint outlines of bodies on the ground—torn, twisted, dead.
Flesh, shredded like ribbons, glistened wet beneath the dim light.
The Banshee's work, no doubt.
With a smooth motion, she reached down to both sides of her hips and drew her twin blasters.
They spun once in her fingers before she gripped them tight, the sound of charging coils faintly whirring in the silence that followed her movement.
"Let's go hunting, shall we?" she muttered, her tone low but steady.
Then she leapt down.
The air screamed past her helmet as she landed among the soldiers.
Around her, the world was chaos—shouts, screams, gunfire—but through her helmet's filters, it was silence.
The voices were gone, replaced by calm, processed sound.
Her breathing steadied.
Rox closed her eyes and inhaled, letting her senses expand through the mist.
The hum of Eidric generators pulsed faintly in the distance.
She could hear the nervous whispers of soldiers clutching their rifles tighter.
"Stay close to the light, damn it!"
"Where's the commander!?"
"Something's moving out there—I swear I saw—"
Beneath all that, deeper in the fog, she heard something else.
A slow, dragging scrape.
Then a wet click followed by the rush of displaced air.
Heavy.
Large.
Fast.
Her eyes snapped open, her blasters lowering slightly as her focus sharpened.
There it was—something circling the convoy's rear, stalking them through the fog like a predator toying with cornered prey.
The mist shifted unnaturally in its wake, as if recoiling from its presence.
Rox steadied her breath, feeling her pulse align with the rhythm of the creature's movement.
"Come on then…" she whispered beneath her breath, a faint smirk tugging at her lips.
"Let's see what you've got."
.
.
Then… with a sudden whirl of motion, the mist ahead of her split open.
The sound was sharp, violent—like fabric tearing against the wind.
Every instinct in Rox's body screamed a warning.
Something massive was moving fast, cutting through the fog straight toward the soldiers just a few meters to her left.
"Movement—left flank!" one soldier shouted, his voice trembling.
"Where!?" another barked, whipping his rifle toward the darkness.
"I can't—damn it, I can't see it!"
But Rox didn't wait.
Her eyes flickered for just a split second, catching the faintest distortion—a ripple in the fog that betrayed the creature's path.
She snapped her wrist up and aimed, her blaster charging with a high-pitched
*whirr!
"Got you."
With a sharp squeeze of the trigger,
*BANG!
a streak of searing blue light erupted from her weapon.
The eidric bullet cut through the black air and struck the fog with explosive precision.
A scream tore through the silence—
*SHGREIEEEEEEEEEEEK!!!
a hideous, ear-piercing shriek that sent chills crawling down every spine nearby.
The blast illuminated the creature's form for just a moment: long, spindly limbs like blades, a contorted frame covered in glistening black flesh, and eyes that burned faintly with pale, corrupted light.
It crashed onto the ground, thrashing violently, its claws digging into its own chest where the shot had struck.
"There you are," Rox muttered, her voice cold, steady, and deadly calm.
The soldiers nearby stumbled backward, weapons trembling in their hands as the creature writhed before them, yet they steadied themselves almost instantly.
"FUCKING SHOOT IT!" one of them shouted that prompted the rest of the soldiers and mercenaries to lay waste on it.
"Fire! Fire! Fire!"
"Kill that son of a bitch!"
The area blazed with chaos—guns roaring, eidric weapons whirring, and flashes of blue and red light painting the mist in strobing fury.
The soldiers and mercenaries unleashed everything they had, pouring round after round into the dying form of the banshee.
For several seconds, the air was consumed by noise, by fire, by the relentless hiss of discharging eidra cores—until, finally, the sounds began to fade.
Silence followed, broken only by the faint hum of cooling weapons and the labored breaths of those who survived.
What was left of the creature lay scattered across the ground—charred limbs, twitching claws, and chunks of dark, corrupted flesh that steamed as the remaining eidra burned through them.
Its blood, thick and tar-like, coated the terrain in a grotesque shimmer that reflected the convoy lights.
The smell was rancid—metallic, burnt, wrong.
"Well… that's done," Rox muttered as she gave both her blasters a lazy spin before holstering them at her sides.
She exhaled sharply through her helmet, the faint fog of her breath misting the inside of her visor.
For a brief moment, she allowed herself to relax, shoulders dropping as the noise of combat finally died down.
She turned on her heel, ready to head back to Gelhyne's position at the front, when a hand suddenly clamped down on her shoulder.
The grip was firm, deliberate.
Her head turned slightly, visor reflecting the pale blue light from the lanterns.
Behind her stood a woman with dark violet hair that shimmered faintly under the bluish glow, flanked by a small group of well-armed individuals.
"Ah," Rox said, straightening as she turned fully to face them.
"And who might you be?"
"Jill… are you sure about this…?" came a nervous voice from behind the woman.
Rox's eyes flicked toward the speaker—a thin, hooded man weighed down by dozens of small flasks strapped across his chest and belt.
The faint hum of eidra resonated from each container.
"You've got a lot of eidric flasks on you," Rox said, tilting her head slightly as her visor scanned them.
"How interesting."
The violet-haired woman stepped forward, placing a hand on her hip with a smug tilt to her lips.
"So you're Rox," she said, her tone sharp but amused.
"The deserter of the Corvi Empire… and the commander's new dog?"
Rox didn't respond immediately.
Her gaze drifted over the woman, analyzing every detail.
Light armor, practical but custom-made; a faint blue hue to her skin that wasn't natural; and at her belt—two sabers glowing faintly with eidric runes, their inscriptions pulsing in rhythm with her heartbeat.
Definitely not a soldier.
Mercenaries.
And dangerous ones at that.
"Like what you see?" Jill asked, her smirk widening, eyes narrowing into a daring, almost playful glare.
"Yes, I do! You have a reaaally nice pair of blades you see!" Rox replied, her tone carrying equal parts sarcasm and amusement.
She tilted her head slightly before sighing.
"Now, if we're done with introductions, why'd you stop me? I need to get back to the boss, you see."
She gestured with her thumb toward the dim lights ahead—the direction of Gelhyne's vehicle.
"I'd like to make a proposal," Jill said simply, her voice lowering as her smirk faded into something more serious.