The seam in the sky pulsed like a black heart, each beat tightening the storm that raged over the bridge. Rain no longer fell in drops; it spiraled upward, caught in a vortex that pulled light and color into the void. Glyphs spread like fractures across the concrete, glowing white-hot, slicing the battlefield into shifting territories.
Aiden's chest was a furnace. Every command he whispered felt like pulling coals into his lungs, each breath a payment he wasn't sure he could keep giving. Still, the blade of shadow in his hand thrummed, alive, eager.
Kai was a constant presence at his back. He hadn't spoken in minutes, but his stance—half-guard, half-ready to throw himself into danger—said more than words could. Aiden wasn't alone. Not tonight.
Across the broken ground, the chosen clashed. Shadows screamed against shadows, weapons forged from absence ringing with sound that shouldn't exist. A boy with hair like shattered glass swung twin blades that bled smoke instead of steel. A girl with eyes veiled in black silk wielded a whip of shadow lined with jagged barbs; her movements were mechanical, efficient, terrifying. A scythe-girl stalked the edges, her weapon taller than she was, slicing arcs into the storm as if carving her place in it.
And above them all, the crow-winged boy circled, laughter jagged as thunder. Feathers fell from his shadow-wings like sparks, each one igniting into a dart of black fire when it touched the ground.
The System's voice crashed over them like a verdict:
"BALANCE FALTERS. THE UNWORTHY WEIGH DOWN THE SCALE."
One of the chosen—the porcelain-mask boy whose chain Aiden had cut—froze mid-step. His shadow peeled off his feet like skin stripped away. He had time to scream once before the void swallowed him whole. No blood. No body. Only absence.
Aiden staggered back, stomach twisting. The storm wasn't a fight. It was a culling.
Kai swore under his breath. "It's killing them for hesitating."
"Not just hesitating," Aiden rasped. "For failing."
The whip cracked, barbs tearing through the air toward him. Aiden raised his blade, sparks erupting as shadow met shadow. The impact rattled his arms to the bone. The whip lashed again, curling for his throat—
—and another blade intercepted.
The braid-haired girl moved with surgical precision. Every strike she made was a calculation, every deflection exact. She didn't look at Aiden as she pressed the whip-wielder back, but her words cut sharp.
"Keep moving. The System tallies those who stand still."
Aiden gritted his teeth. "Why protect me?"
Her eyes flicked toward him only once, voice calm as rain. "Because you haven't broken yet. And because you will matter when this storm is over."
Before Aiden could respond, a shadow of feathers blotted the sky. The crow-boy dove, wings spread wide, talons of darkness gleaming. His laughter echoed, wild and cruel.
Kai shoved Aiden sideways, the dive cracking the concrete where he'd stood. Crows burst from the boy's wings, dozens of them, their beaks dripping fire.
Aiden's shadow surged, cloak unraveling into jagged shards. "Scatter," he whispered, chest burning. The command bent the cloak into a storm of blades. They shredded through the crows, feathers dissolving into sparks. For a moment, the sky above the bridge looked like it was raining fire.
The crow-boy hissed, circling higher. "Weaklings culled, balance restored! Who survives next?" His eyes glowed like lanterns of madness.
Kai crouched low, fists up though he had no weapon, no shadow. "He's coming back around."
The braid-haired girl landed beside them, her blade dripping black sparks. "Don't kill him. Break the wings."
Aiden turned to her sharply. "Why?"
"Because the System values pieces," she said flatly. "Even broken ones."
The crow-boy screamed downward again, faster this time. Lightning forked, glyphs flared, the storm itself bending to his dive.
Aiden's ribs flared, lungs clawing for breath. He whispered one word that felt less like a command and more like a vow:
"Bend."
The shadow rippled. His cloak caught the dive, not as armor but as current. The boy twisted off-axis, wings snapping like brittle branches. He slammed into the bridge's side, sparks of shadow bursting outward. His laughter broke into a scream, then into silence.
The wings twitched, broken but still attached. The boy crawled to his knees, grounded now, eyes wide with fury.
The storm paused, holding its breath.
Kai exhaled, relief sharp. "You did it."
But Aiden could feel it—this wasn't victory. It was only the storm making room for what came next.
And the System was far from finished.