The space finally ran out.
Not metaphorically.
Physically.
There was nowhere left to step without touching something alive.
Vipers pressed against each other, their bodies layered and compressed until the ground itself vanished beneath a living mass. Stone, ash, broken metal—everything was buried under moving flesh that did not tire, did not hesitate, did not breathe.
Team A stood at the center of it.
A shrinking island.
Harun's boots scraped against hardened scales as he adjusted his stance again, redistributing weight with mechanical precision. His Spectral Sword moved constantly now—not striking, not slashing—denying space, carving thin corridors of movement that collapsed again the moment he passed through.
His leg resisted the motion.
Just slightly.
Enough for him to notice.
The cold had reached his hip.
Not spreading fast.
Not stopping either.
Mira's breathing was loud now. She no longer bothered hiding it. Sweat dripped from her jawline, falling onto a Viper's back and vanishing instantly as if absorbed.
Her speed was still there.
But the recovery was gone.
She dashed, struck, disengaged—and felt the half-second delay before her muscles answered again.
A Viper lunged into that gap.
She twisted away at the last possible moment, the creature's edge tearing fabric and skin along her side.
This time, blood followed.
She hissed sharply but stayed upright.
Harun saw it.
"Left shoulder," he said calmly, already repositioning.
Mira didn't respond—she didn't need to.
Ishan slammed both hands into the ground again, forcing sand upward in a wide, uneven wave. It slowed the Vipers for a heartbeat—just long enough for Kunal to drag Mira back into tighter formation.
"That's twice," Ishan said through clenched teeth. "They're not rushing us anymore. They're waiting for fatigue."
"They're letting gravity do the work," Omair replied, ducking under a snapping jaw and pivoting cleanly. "Every movement costs more now."
Kunal's metal limbs whined as he forced output again, blades flashing in tight arcs meant to push, not cut. Even that was becoming harder. The Vipers' density increased with every second, resisting displacement like compressed rubber.
"I'm hitting resistance ceilings," Kunal said. "Not damage—mass."
Harun felt another brush along his side as he redirected a strike meant for Ishan.
This one lingered.
The contact wasn't sharp. It was heavy.
When he pulled away, the skin beneath his ribs felt wrong—solid, unyielding, like polished stone beneath cloth.
His breath remained steady.
His mind remained clear.
But he stopped shifting weight onto that side.
Kareena watched closely now, her earlier amusement replaced by focused attention.
"Look at you," she said softly. "Still standing. Still calculating."
She took another step forward.
The illusion field thickened again.
This time, it didn't just distort distance.
It distorted timing.
Mira launched forward—and landed a fraction later than intended.
A Viper struck her mid-air.
Harun intercepted instantly, Spectral Sword slamming against the creature's head and forcing it aside. The impact sent a shock through his arm.
The cold surged.
For the first time, his fingers hesitated before tightening again.
Harun adjusted without comment, stepping closer to Mira, narrowing formation even further.
They were almost shoulder to shoulder now.
No room to fall.
No room to retreat.
Only forward—or collapse.
Ishan's knees buckled briefly as sand slipped through his control again. Omair caught him by the collar and shoved him upright without breaking rhythm.
"Stay with us," Omair snapped.
"I am," Ishan replied, breath ragged. "Just—give me ground."
"There is no ground," Kunal said grimly.
The Vipers closed in another inch.
Then another.
Harun lifted his blade slightly higher.
Not to attack.
To warn.
His voice remained even.
"Listen carefully," he said. "From here on, no unnecessary movement. No chase. No overcommit."
Mira glanced at him, eyes sharp despite exhaustion. "You sound like you're preparing for something."
"I am."
"For what?"
Harun didn't answer.
Because the truth was simple.
They had reached the point where every mistake would be punished.
And the Vipers knew it.
Kareena smiled slowly.
"Good," she said. "You've reached the threshold."
The ground trembled—not from the Vipers this time.
From something else.
Something approaching.
Harun felt it immediately.
Not pressure.
Not illusion.
Presence.
Heavy.
Deliberate.
Unmistakable.
From somewhere beyond the ruins, a new weight entered the battlefield.
The Vipers did not retreat.
They parted.
Just enough.
Kareena turned her head slightly, eyes lifting toward the source.
"Perfect timing," she said.
Harun tightened his grip on the Spectral Sword as the cold crept another inch upward.
Whatever was coming
It wasn't part of the grind.
It was the next phase.
The tremor wasn't loud.
It was heavy.
Like the ground had decided it was tired of carrying everything on top of it.
Mira felt it in her knees first. A deep vibration ran through her legs and up her spine, making her teeth clench instinctively. Kunal's metal limbs gave off a sharp, irritated whine as their stabilizers recalibrated without being asked.
Ishan swallowed hard. "That's not another Viper."
Omair didn't answer.
He already knew.
The Vipers reacted before any of them did.
Not fear.
Not aggression.
Submission.
The mass of bodies shifted aside, parting slowly, reluctantly, like a living tide pulling back from a shore it no longer owned. Space opened where none had existed seconds earlier.
And into that space—
he walked.
Each step landed with a dull, grounded thud, heavy enough to make dust jump. The ash in the air drifted away from him instead of settling, as if repelled by his presence.
Broad shoulders.
Scarred skin.
A body that looked carved, not trained.
Raj.
He didn't rush. He didn't scan the battlefield. His eyes went straight to Harun.
Locked.
A crooked grin pulled at the corner of his mouth. "Huh," he said, voice low, amused. "You're still breathing."
Harun felt the cold spike violently.
Not spread—react.
His leg resisted again, harder this time, like stone grinding against stone under skin. He adjusted his stance automatically, hiding it behind motion.
"Back," Harun said, sharp now. "All of you."
Mira shook her head. "You're not—"
"Back," he snapped.
She hesitated only a second before moving. Ishan and Kunal followed, dragging themselves into a tighter line behind him. Omair didn't move.
He stepped forward instead.
Raj glanced at him, eyes flicking over scars, posture, stance. "You're not one of the kids."
Omair smiled thinly. "Neither are you."
Raj chuckled. "Fair."
Kareena finally moved, heels clicking softly as she joined Raj's side. Her smile was calm, composed—completely unbothered by the carnage around them.
"Don't break them yet," she said lightly. "I want to see how long they last."
Raj cracked his neck once. "Your rules."
He moved.
No wind-up.
No warning.
One step—and he was there.
Harun barely got his blade up in time.
The impact wasn't sharp.
It was crushing.
Metal screamed as Spectral Sword met Raj's forearm. The shock blasted through Harun's arms and into his chest, forcing air out of his lungs in a violent grunt. His boots skidded backward, carving lines through ash and stone.
Mira shouted his name.
Raj didn't let up.
A second strike followed—elbow this time—slamming into Harun's guard and folding it inward. Pain flared white-hot up his arm, the stone beneath his skin grinding as if reacting to the force.
Harun slid back another step, breath ragged now.
"Whoa," Raj said, eyes bright. "You're tougher than you look."
Harun exhaled hard and pushed back, swinging—not to cut, but to force space. The blade hit Raj's shoulder.
It didn't bite.
Raj laughed.
"Oh, I like you."
He grabbed the blade.
Barehanded.
Harun felt the vibration travel straight into his bones. His grip faltered for half a heartbeat—
—and Raj ripped the sword aside and slammed his knee into Harun's stomach.
The sound wasn't dramatic.
Just a dull, wet thud.
Harun flew back, crashing through a broken wall and skidding across rubble. He coughed, blood flecking his lips as he forced himself upright.
Mira moved instantly.
She launched herself forward with everything she had left, speed compressing into a violent burst. Her kick landed square against Raj's jaw—
—and stopped.
Raj's head tilted maybe an inch.
He looked at her.
"Cute."
He backhanded her.
The hit sent Mira spinning, her body smashing into the ground hard enough to knock the air from her lungs. She rolled twice before stopping, gasping.
Ishan roared and slammed both fists into the earth. A jagged wave of sand and stone surged upward, aiming to swallow Raj whole.
Raj stepped forward through it.
Through.
The ground shattered around his legs, but he didn't slow. He grabbed Ishan by the collar mid-motion and lifted him clean off the ground.
"Too slow," Raj said, almost kindly.
He threw him.
Ishan hit a collapsed beam with a sickening crack and didn't move.
"Kunal!" Mira shouted, trying to push herself up.
Kunal didn't answer.
He was already moving—metal limbs screaming as he charged, blades transforming mid-swing into a massive hammer form. He brought it down with everything he had.
The hammer struck Raj's shoulder.
This time—
Raj's arm bent.
Just slightly.
Kunal's eyes widened. "I—"
Raj's fist met his chest.
Kunal's body folded around the impact, metal denting inward as he was launched backward like scrap, skidding across the ground until he hit nothing and stopped.
Silence fell.
Not because the fight was over.
Because no one could breathe.
Harun staggered back to his feet, chest heaving, stone creeping higher along his side. He wiped blood from his mouth with the back of his hand and tightened his grip on the Spectral Sword again.
Raj turned to face him fully now, grin wide, eyes burning.
"Your turn again," he said.
Behind him, Kareena watched with clear satisfaction.
Harun steadied his breath.
Not because he was calm.
Because if he didn't, his body would betray him.
The stone beneath his skin pulsed once—slow, deliberate—like something testing its hold. His leg felt heavier now, the resistance undeniable. Every shift of weight dragged against an invisible anchor.
Raj noticed.
His grin widened.
"Oh?" Raj tilted his head, eyes narrowing with interest. "You're slowing."
Harun didn't answer. He stepped forward instead.
The Spectral Sword flared brighter as he swung—no finesse this time, no redirection. Pure force. The blade slammed into Raj's chest with a sound like metal striking a furnace.
Raj slid back half a step.
Just half.
The ground cracked beneath his heel.
Mira sucked in a sharp breath. "He moved him—!"
Raj laughed. Loud. Genuine.
"That's new!"
He charged.
Not fast.
Relentless.
Harun met him head-on. Blade against fist. Elbow against guard. The impact thundered through the ruins, shockwaves rippling outward and sending Vipers skidding aside like debris.
Harun's arms screamed.
The stone crept higher.
Raj's punch slipped past his guard and crashed into his shoulder. Harun felt something grind inside him—bone, muscle, stone, all colliding. He staggered, boots carving trenches through ash.
Raj didn't give him space.
A knee slammed into Harun's ribs.
A forearm smashed down across his back.
Harun dropped to one knee, coughing hard.
The world rang.
"Harun!" Mira shouted, already moving.
Raj turned and backhanded her mid-dash.
She hit the ground hard, rolling across broken stone until she slammed into a wall and slid down, breath knocked clean out of her.
Omair lunged in from the side, blades flashing in a tight, deadly pattern—Karli Arnis, flowing, precise. His strikes landed clean, slicing across Raj's side, his shoulder, his thigh.
Raj looked down at the cuts.
They smoked.
They closed.
Raj grabbed Omair by the wrist and yanked him forward, slamming his forehead into Omair's face with a sickening crack. Omair reeled back, blood streaming, barely staying upright.
"Still standing," Raj said approvingly. "You're tougher than the rest."
Kunal roared and charged, metal limbs transforming mid-stride into massive crushing forms. He brought them down with everything he had, the blow landing square on Raj's back.
The impact boomed.
Raj stumbled forward a step.
Kunal didn't stop. He hit again. And again. Each strike dented the ground, sending fractures racing outward.
Raj twisted suddenly, catching Kunal's arm mid-swing.
He squeezed.
Metal screamed.
Kunal's eyes widened in pain as the limb buckled inward. Raj slammed his knee into Kunal's chest and hurled him aside like scrap. Kunal skidded across the ground, smoke rising from his damaged arm.
Ishan forced himself upright, blood running down his temple. He slammed both hands into the ground with a shout, pouring everything he had left into one desperate surge.
The earth answered.
A jagged wave of sand and stone erupted beneath Raj, trying to swallow him whole.
For a moment—
Raj disappeared.
The ground convulsed.
Then Raj burst out of it, covered in debris, eyes blazing.
"That's it?" he snarled.
He grabbed Ishan by the face and slammed him into the ground once.
Twice.
The third time, the earth cracked beneath Ishan's skull.
Ishan went limp.
Silence hit hard.
Not the absence of sound.
The absence of hope.
Harun forced himself to his feet, legs trembling now, stone creeping past his waist. His breath came heavy, uneven. He raised the Spectral Sword again—but this time, his arm lagged for a fraction of a second.
Raj noticed.
Kareena's voice cut through the chaos, smooth and pleased.
"Enough warm-up."
She lifted her hand.
The Vipers answered.
They surged again—faster now, more aggressive, bodies snapping forward with renewed intent. Their edges flashed. Their movements sharpened.
Harun felt it immediately.
They weren't just surrounding anymore.
They were closing.
He stepped back to shield Mira.
A Viper slipped past his guard and raked across his side.
The cut was shallow.
The effect was not.
Stone raced outward from the wound like frost cracking glass. Harun gasped as his muscles seized, weight doubling instantly.
Raj laughed.
"There it is."
Kareena smiled.
"Now," she said softly, "let's see how long they last."
The Vipers struck again.
And this time, they didn't miss.