The city lay sprawling beneath them, its walls glittering in the early morning light, yet the usual bustle of life was missing. Even from afar, the twelve could sense the corruption—a subtle distortion in the air, the faint hum of unnatural energy, and the oppressive weight of the outer god's influence pressing down on the land.
Lucien's cloak fluttered unnaturally despite the absence of wind, his pale eyes scanning the horizon. Beside him, Seliora's hands glowed faintly as she wove protective threads over the group.
"We've arrived," Lucien murmured. "Stay sharp. This isn't a welcoming committee."
The Enemy Emerges
From the center of the city, a ripple of darkness exploded outward. Buildings trembled and cracked. The air thickened as if reality itself struggled to contain it.
The first enemy revealed itself—a summoner, towering and unnatural, its body composed of shattered stone and pulsating veins of void. Around it, hundreds of minions surged: spectral soldiers, beasts of metal and bone, each one radiating lethal energy.
Zarynth's grin widened. "Well, that's… overwhelming."
Vaelith ignited her flames, forming a protective arc around them. "Overwhelming doesn't mean unbeatable."
Ashveil's shadow extended, lashing across the battlefield, shredding the front lines. Nysera's eyes glimmered as she darted between enemies, striking with precise, lethal force.
Kairo and Eryndra moved as one—he fractured the flow of time around enemies, leaving them disoriented, while she stitched the fractures to expose their vulnerabilities. Every strike was calculated, every movement synchronized.
Caelthorn and Morwyn brought gravity to bear, sending shockwaves that flattened minions and stabilized crumbling streets.
Veythar and Iralith coordinated from the flanks, manipulating steel and blood constructs to cut off reinforcements, each attack both destructive and strategic.
Coordinated Destruction
The city became a battlefield of chaos and precision. Buildings crumbled beneath the clash of void and elemental power. The enemy summoner hurled waves of magic, shattering streets, but the twelve adapted instantly.
Lucien stepped forward, letting the White surge around him. Shadows peeled away from reality, striking at minions indiscriminately. His strikes weren't just attacks—they were purges.
Seliora joined him, weaving light through the devastation, countering attacks that could have severed the city's core. Together, they carved paths through the enemy horde.
Even the seemingly endless waves of minions fell before the twelve's combined might. The cohesion, the kinship, and the mastery of their voids allowed them to operate with terrifying efficiency.
The Stakes Heighten
Despite their victories, the summoner itself advanced, unyielding. Every strike they landed barely slowed it. Its laughter—or the sound of reality itself warping around it—was deafening.
Lucien's jaw tightened. He felt it then—the outer god's influence, stretching through the summoner, probing, testing, waiting for the perfect moment. If they weren't fast, if they misstepped… the city, maybe the nation, would be lost.
Seliora's hand brushed his arm. "We can do this," she said quietly, her voice carrying both confidence and warning.
He nodded, letting the White flare brighter, resonating with all six Revenants. The kinship pulsed between them, a tether that even the summoner's power could not sever.
As the twelve pressed forward, the summoner unleashed its final form—a towering, abyssal figure with energy that warped the horizon.
Zarynth smirked, spinning his sword. "Oh. This is going to be fun."
Lucien's eyes narrowed. "Everyone… together. No holding back."
The ground shook beneath them, the voids of all six Revenants reacting to one another like a storm gathering at the edge of reality.
And somewhere, deep in the heart of the city, an unseen force stirred, watching. The outer god had not yet intervened—but when it did, nothing in the world would survive the encounter unscathed.