The city of Bastion, a place of stoic order and grim resolve, was now in a state of primal terror. The blaring siren, no longer a warning, was a wail of despair that tore through the air, joined by a dissonant chorus of human screams and the distant, rhythmic crash of falling masonry. Elias and Seraphina sprinted through the cobblestone streets, their boots pounding a rhythm amidst the cacophony of fear. Their pace was a controlled burn, fast enough to outrun the panic but measured enough to maintain their focus.
Citizens, their faces pale with shock, ran past them in a panicked tide. Elias's eyes scanned the crowd, not for threats, but for the human cost. He saw a young mother clutching her child, her eyes wide with a terror that he knew well—the look of a person who has just realized their world is ending. A boy, no older than ten, dropped a wooden toy and, for a moment, froze, his face a mask of grief for a simple object he'd never see again. The scene was a replay of a hundred loops he could no longer remember, but the pain of it was fresh every time.
Seraphina, though, didn't look at the crowd. Her eyes were fixed on Elias, a silent anchor in a world that was tearing itself apart. She trusted his command completely. Her admiration for his uncanny foresight, a secret she shared with no one, was a quiet fire that fueled her resolve. She followed his every movement, a blur of motion that mirrored his own. They moved with a fluid, practiced grace, their combat gear allowing them to move through the panicked crowd like water through a sieve. They vaulted over overturned market carts, scrambled up the sides of buildings, and leapt from roof to roof, their path a direct, unbroken line toward the source of the chaos.
They landed on a rooftop and paused for a second, their breaths ragged. The air was thick with the smell of dust and ozone. The city below was a wound, with streams of people fleeing from the source of the attack. Elias's eyes scanned the horizon, and Seraphina watched him, her heart a steady rhythm in her chest. She knew he wasn't just looking; he was remembering a battle that hadn't happened yet.
Then, Elias pointed to a seemingly empty water tower. "Seraphina, a Chimera will be there in thirty seconds. Get your rifle ready."
Seraphina didn't question him. There was no sound, no movement, nothing to indicate he was right. There was only his command, a truth she would have staked her life on. She simply nodded, her hand already moving to un-sling her long-range rifle, and took a knee behind a crumbling AC unit. The metal of the rifle was cold against her palm, the familiar weight a small comfort against the mounting dread. As she sighted down the barrel, her heart a steady rhythm in her chest, she strained to see what was coming, her eyes burning. Her focus was so absolute that the world seemed to shrink to a single point: the seemingly empty water tower.
Twenty seconds. Fifteen. Ten. The seconds bled into each other, each one a sharp spike of tension. She felt the vibrations of the city's terror through the soles of her boots and heard the desperate cries of civilians, but her mind was a quiet, focused void. He had never been wrong. In this city of endless, repeating tragedy, his foresight was the only constant, the only thing they could rely on. She knew that he had lived this moment before, in some past, forgotten loop, and he knew exactly what was coming. The only thing she had to do was be ready.
Exactly thirty seconds later, the metallic shell of the water tower buckled and tore open with a sound like a wet scream. The noise was a visceral tear, a sound of flesh and metal ripping apart simultaneously, and it made the hairs on her arms stand up. A Chimera burst forth, a grotesque fusion of human and monstrosity. Its body, gaunt and unnaturally tall, was covered in a patchwork of pale, sinewy flesh and jagged, bone-like plates that jutted out from its shoulders and spine like broken blades. Its face, a twisted parody of a man's, was covered in a multitude of small, unblinking eyes, and a maw filled with razor-sharp teeth.
He was right. He's always right, Seraphina thought, a surge of fierce admiration overriding her fear.
It moved with a terrifying abnormality. It wasn't running; it was a series of horrifying lurches and twists, its limbs snapping into unnatural angles and its bones audibly cracking with every surprising burst of speed. It was as if it was breaking itself to move, a puppet of a hundred shattered strings.
Seraphina acted quickly. The moment the Chimera was fully exposed, her finger tightened on the trigger. A crack split the air, louder than the siren, and the bullet flew true, striking one of the bone plates on the creature's shoulder. The impact was a sharp, metallic clang, and a spray of shattered bone fragments flew into the air.
The Chimera screamed. It was a guttural, inhuman sound of pure rage that seemed to emanate from its entire body, a painful resonance that made the air itself vibrate. Its many eyes, a moment ago focused on the city below, all swiveled at once and locked onto Seraphina and Elias. It began its terrifying, bone-breaking lurch across the rooftop toward them.
Elias didn't even have to look at Seraphina. "Hold your ground," he commanded, his voice calm and steady amidst the chaos. He un-slung his own weapon, a short-range, high-frequency sonic blade, and readied himself. The Chimera's terrifying lurch accelerated, a blur of broken bones and savage rage. They were a dance partner who had danced this dance before. Elias moved first, a quick sprint forward, his sonic blade humming with a deadly energy. Seraphina, without a glance, knew her role. She fired her rifle again, not at the Chimera, but at the crumbling AC unit next to her. The unit, already weakened by the Chimera's initial attack, crumbled and fell directly into the Chimera's path.
But the Chimera didn't smash through it. To any other soldier, it would have been a perfect trap. But Elias saw it. In a flash of foresight—a flicker of a hundred similar battles that he couldn't remember—he saw the Chimera's impossibly fast counter-move. With a sickening series of snaps and cracks, it contorted its body into an impossible shape, twisting and spinning in midair just as the AC unit hit the ground. It used the broken metal as a launchpad, launching itself over the rubble with an even greater, bone-breaking speed, its many eyes fixed on Elias.
Not this time, Elias thought, his body already moving. Not this loop. The flash of foresight had shown him an alternate reality—a split-second vision of the Chimera's crushing weight coming down on him, of Seraphina's scream, of the city falling. He darted underneath its impossibly contorted form, a blur of motion that exploited the Chimera's only blind spot: directly beneath it as it launched itself into the air. He didn't attack a plate of bone or a weak point but the source of the Chimera's unnatural speed—a cluster of exposed, whirring gears and sinew that controlled its movements. His sonic blade found its target with a high-pitched whine, tearing through the intricate machinery.
The Chimera didn't fall. It simply ceased to move, a puppet with its strings cut. Its furious lurch became a sickening, silent collapse as its limbs locked and its grotesque body hit the rooftop with a heavy, final thud. It was a shattered wreck of bone and metal, a once-terrifying force reduced to a silent pile of debris. Elias and Seraphina stood over it, their breaths ragged. The sound of the Chimera's last, echoing scream faded into the chaotic din of the city, replaced by the eerie quiet of their victory. For a brief moment, they simply looked at each other, their shared gaze a silent acknowledgment of the battle just fought and the hundred others they had already forgotten.
"You're a hundred years ahead of them every time," Seraphina said, her voice a low, tired whisper, a hint of awe in her tone.
Elias just shook his head, a small, sad smile on his lips. "Only for as long as it lasts."