The Anchor's light was closer now — close enough to feel.
It wasn't warm, exactly, but it pulsed through Kael's bones in slow, steady waves, like a deep bass note that only his skeleton could hear. Each pulse made the fragment beneath his feet shift slightly, a reminder that nothing in this realm was truly solid.
Approach to the Anchor
Lyra led the way along a narrow stone bridge that arched between two floating landmasses. The bridge had no railings and no visible support; it swayed with every movement, each step accompanied by the distant sound of grinding stone.
"Tell me again what Drifters look like," Kael said, eyes flicking to the void on either side.
"You'll know them when you see them," Lyra replied.
"That's not comforting."
"They are neither solid nor light. They are outlines where something should be, and shouldn't be."
"That's… somehow worse."
First Contact
The Anchor sat on a massive shard of land, easily the size of a city. From this distance, Kael could see that it wasn't a single object, but a complex lattice of golden threads twisting upward into the sky, converging at a point that disappeared into the light.
Between them and it lay the Drifters.
At first, Kael thought the space around the Anchor was just… wrong. The air seemed to ripple, and shadows shifted where no object was blocking the light. Then one of the shadows detached itself from the ground and slid across the surface toward them.
It was shaped almost like a predator — four legs, a sloping head — but its body was translucent, as if it were made of smoke trapped in the outline of a beast. Within that outline, faint points of white light flickered in chaotic patterns.
"Yeah," Kael said softly. "I know them when I see them."
The First Strike
The Drifter moved without sound, flowing rather than stepping, closing the distance far faster than Kael expected. Lyra spun her own pulse-spear in one smooth motion and struck forward.
The tip of her weapon emitted a concussive burst of pale blue energy — the Drifter screeched, the sound warping the air, and its form briefly solidified, revealing jagged, bone-like structures before it dissolved again.
Kael brought his spear up just as another Drifter appeared to his left — not arrived, but appeared, phasing into reality like a badly edited scene.
He jabbed, felt the spear connect with something that was both solid and not, and triggered the pulse. The burst tore through the Drifter's shape, scattering its lights like a jar of fireflies being smashed against a wall.
"Not bad," Lyra said, not looking at him.
Swarm
The ground shivered.
From the shadows near the Anchor, more Drifters emerged — not walking, but gliding, flickering in and out of existence. Some were massive, with elongated jaws; others were almost insect-like, their limbs bending the wrong way.
"Guessing this is the part where they swarm," Kael said.
"Hold the line," Lyra replied.
"Against that?"
"Until I say otherwise."
The next few minutes blurred into movement — Kael striking, pulsing, pivoting, always trying to anticipate where the next Drifter would phase in. Each pulse seemed to draw more of them, as if the disruption was a challenge.
One lunged for his back — Lyra's spear took it mid-lunge, shattering it into drifting motes.
Another phased in inside the ground at his feet, rising like an inverted shadow. Kael jammed his spear down, felt it catch on something that wasn't there, and fired.
The bursts were draining — not his strength, but something deeper, like each shot pulled a little piece of his focus away.
The Core's Guardian
When the last of the smaller Drifters fell, the Anchor pulsed again — and something much larger emerged.
It didn't glide. It pulled itself forward with jagged limbs that bent and re-bent as it moved. Its head was nothing but a circular void, ringed by spiraling teeth that rotated slowly, grinding the air.
"That," Lyra said, "was not in the Triarch's briefing."
The thing let out a low, vibrating hum — and every fragment of land in sight shifted a little closer to the void.
Fight for the Anchor
Kael didn't wait for it to make the first move. He charged, spear leveled, firing a pulse as soon as he was in range. The burst hit — and the thing didn't even flinch.
It turned its ringed mouth toward him.
Lyra darted in from the side, aiming for what passed as a joint in its limb. Her pulse-spear tore through part of it, and the limb spasmed, twisting in impossible directions. But the creature countered, slamming her back with enough force to send her skidding across the shard.
Kael gritted his teeth. "Alright, big guy. Let's dance."
He waited until it lunged, then stepped to the side, jamming his spear into the ring of teeth and firing a pulse directly inside.
The creature convulsed violently — its entire form glitching in and out of existence — then shattered into a thousand shards of light that dissolved into the void.
Aftermath
The Anchor's pulse shifted — slower now, steadier. The land fragments stopped moving.
Lyra stood, brushing dust off her coat. "You passed."
Kael leaned on his spear, catching his breath. "That… was passing?"
"You're still alive. That counts."
They turned toward the Anchor, its golden threads now glowing a little brighter.
But as Kael stepped closer, he saw something — a faint, black filament running through one of the threads, pulsing against the light like a parasite embedded in a vein.
Whatever was wrong with the Anchor… the Drifters weren't the cause.
They were just the symptom.