The golden stitches in the sky tore wider, spilling light that was not sunlight. It had weight, bending the air, twisting the ground into patterns that pulsed like living veins.
From the largest rift stepped armored figures—each plated in black-gold scales, their bodies laced with the same cursed threads as the chimera. They moved with an unnatural precision, as if every muscle obeyed a single puppeteer.
Nyra's voice shook. "Thread-bound Hunters… elite war-forged. Once they lock onto you, they don't stop until you're in pieces."
Kiel flexed his fingers around his sword. "Then we make sure they stop breathing first."
---
The first Hunter raised its weapon—a glaive forged from fused bone and molten crystal. It slammed the butt into the ground, sending a shockwave of golden ripples. Stone split, air shivered, and Zaira barely rolled aside as a spike of thread-forged steel erupted where she'd been.
Two more Hunters flanked them, moving in blurs, their blades humming with Qi-drain enchantments.
Riven cursed under his breath. "They're designed to cut your core right out."
Kiel met one head-on. The clash rang like a temple bell, flames erupting along his blade. But the Hunter's armor drank the fire, absorbing it until its weapon glowed brighter.
It swung.
Kiel blocked—barely—but the force hurled him through a wall. Dust and shards buried him.
---
Zaira's eyes blazed violet as she activated her Phantom Step, body splitting into afterimages. She danced between the two Hunters, striking joints and armor gaps, but their cursed threads stitched wounds before blood could fall.
One caught her by the throat mid-step. "Prey." Its voice was mechanical, but layered with an ancient malice.
Before it could crush her, shadows surged from the floor—Riven's work. The tendrils yanked the Hunter back, locking it in place. Riven stepped forward, his Qi flaring black and red.
"Let's see how you like it when something eats you from the inside."
He pressed a hand to its chest. The Hunter screamed—not from pain, but from its threads burning away in slow spirals.
---
The third Hunter tore through the rubble toward Nyra, who stood frozen, hands glowing as she wove a defense pattern. Too slow.
Kiel exploded from the debris, eyes half-wolf, half-dragon. His sword had changed—its edge jagged with black fire, the hilt sprouting vein-like lines pulsing crimson.
He struck once.
The Hunter's arm fell away.
Twice.
Its helm split, revealing a face of tangled golden sinew. No flesh. No bone. Just thread.
"Go back to your master," Kiel snarled, and drove his blade through its head. The threads writhed, then burned to ash.
---
But killing one came at a cost.
The hybrid Qi in Kiel's body raged, the dragon's fire feeding the wolf's frenzy, the wolf's instinct sharpening the shadow's hunger. His aura warped the air, pulling in sparks, dust, and even loose pebbles.
Nyra looked at him with both awe and fear. "Kiel… if you keep using that form—"
"I know," he cut in. "It's eating me alive."
The last two Hunters regrouped, standing side by side. Their glaives crossed, forming a seal. The air screamed as a rift gate formed between them, larger than the one they'd arrived through.
From inside came a sound like an army breathing in unison.
---
Zaira wiped blood from her lip. "That's not just reinforcements, is it?"
Nyra's weaving hands faltered. "No. That's a war-thread nexus. Once it stabilizes, thousands will pour through."
Riven stepped up beside Kiel. "So we tear it apart before it's done."
Kiel's hybrid aura flared hotter, the temple floor cracking under his boots. "Then we go all in."
Without waiting, he launched forward, dragging flame and shadow in his wake, aiming for the seal's heart.
The rift pulsed—then began to unravel. But something inside reached back.
Something massive.