The cavern shivered as the Hunters stepped fully into the fractured light. Their armor glimmered with shard-threaded runes, black veins pulsing along joints like living crystal. Every motion was deliberate, precise, almost predatory. At the center, Viktor's presence was undeniable — spear humming faintly with shard-light, mask cracked from battles past, movements sharp, deliberate, impossible to ignore.
Law's scarf tightened in his grip as echoes flared around him. Every breath felt heavy, laden with inevitability. The air itself seemed to pulse with Viktor's approach, each shard-speck vibrating under the rhythm of his steps.
Zero lunged first, knives spinning, shadows folding over him. Six Hunters converged, Viktor at their heart. One slammed a shard-spear into the cavern floor near Zero's feet; another raked him with gauntlets, black veins snaking across arms, a whisper of shard-thread following. Sparks hissed, shards scattering. Zero stumbled, convulsing, knives nearly slipping from his hands, one knee buckling.
Law surged, echoes flaring crimson. Two Hunters were thrown back as he carved a path, threads of scarf slicing through the air. Nysera leapt from a ledge, wolf-aura flaring golden-amber, claws raking shard-armor. Liora spun threads, wrapping one Hunter mid-lunge. Laura bent time in flickering ripples, slowing falling debris and giving Zero a precious foothold.
The fight became a storm, sparks and shards colliding with shadow and light. Viktor advanced like a shadow through it all, spear arcs precise, predatory. One misstep from a Hunter exposed him; Zero's knives struck true. Viktor's eyes — gold flecks catching in the shard-thread mask — glimmered briefly as he adjusted his attack, a predator correcting mid-hunt.
Zero fell back, black veins faintly glowing, blood streaked across arms and face, but he struck again, cutting weak points, staggering two Hunters. Sparks flew; shards clattered against stone. Viktor twisted his spear, shard-thread bending like liquid light beneath him, black veins pulsing as if syncing with every Hunter in the group.
Nysera ripped through another, claws slashing, aura snapping. Liora's threads bent shard-metal, anchoring the attack. Laura froze stones midair, cascading time to save a child ducking behind fractured rock.
Law's echoes surged, crimson threads writhing. Every movement was desperate, precise, coordinated. The cavern trembled under shard-spell and strike, the energy chaotic yet controlled — a war of light and shadow. Viktor pivoted, spear swinging, shard-threaded arcs hissing through the air, calculating, untouchable by brute force alone.
Zero's knives found a gap, a Hunter collapsing in shards of crystal. Sparks flew. Viktor's gaze swept the battlefield, mask catching fractured light, black veins pulsing. He didn't hesitate, didn't falter — tactical, patient, a shadowed intelligence guiding every strike.
The Five pressed, each heartbeat a coordinated rhythm: claws, blades, threads, time. Sparks and shard-light flared, colliding with Viktor's spear arcs. One Hunter fell to Nysera; another trapped by Liora's threads. Viktor pivoted through the chaos, spear humming, mask angled toward each move, a predator adjusting mid-hunt.
Finally, the Five forced a retreat, deeper into the cavern. Zero sagged against Law, knives trembling, scarred and barely steady. Viktor paused at the entrance, shard-thread crackling, black veins pulsing along his armor, calculating. He did not pursue immediately, but the weight of his presence lingered like a shadow, a promise they had not seen the last of him.
Older Law would remember the sight forever: the Five battered, retreating into darkness, Zero barely alive, survivors trembling, and Viktor — human, calculated, merciless — waiting, untouched, unstoppable.