The tunnels deepened, twisting and branching like the veins of a living organism. Old machinery pulsed faintly beneath cracked concrete, echoing through the air in low hums. Every step felt like intruding on something ancient, something that had survived long before humans arrived.
Captain Iver led the way, rifle slung lightly, her violet hair brushing the dim glow of flickering lights. The faint pressure of her presence caused smaller creatures to hesitate, but the stronger ones tested us, adapting quickly.
The squad moved in tight formation. Reid flexed his gauntlet, testing its energy against the shadows. Sera's eyes flickered, illusions bending the fog and darkness. Barel's living blade pulsed faintly, syncing with the tension around us. Lune's mechanical wolf prowled beside her, fluid and silent, sensing threats we hadn't yet seen.
A faint vibration ran through my chest. Subtle. Almost imperceptible. My resonance stirred, responding to the pulse of the ruins, to the movement of the creatures around us.
Ahead, a hybrid emerged from the wall—flesh fused with metal, its joints glowing faintly red as its neural circuits flickered. It paused, evaluating us. This one wasn't acting on instinct; it was calculating.
Reid reacted first. His gauntlet flared, forcing the hybrid to shift back. The impact tore shallow scratches across its armored plating, enough to impede its movement. It hissed, jittering as its circuitry overloaded briefly.
Sera moved next, subtle illusions confusing the creature's senses. One leg misstepped, wires sparking faintly. Barel's blade found a weak joint, slicing through tendon and servo with precise force. The wound didn't gore, but the creature's movement was crippled.
I felt my chest pulse again. This time, stronger. The resonance thrummed faintly beneath my skin, reacting to the creature's hesitation. I didn't act, but I realized: I could influence its perception, just barely, just enough to make it hesitate. Not fight, not kill—just delay.
Iver noticed my glance. "Good," she said quietly. "That's the start. Sense the rhythm, the pulse, the hesitation. You're learning to thread control without touching a weapon. Keep it subtle. The ruins respond to it."
The creature lunged again, but the slight ripple from my resonance, combined with Reid's flame and Sera's illusions, made its attack predictable. Iver's rifle barked twice, striking its joints and wires. It stumbled and fell, incapacitated but alive.
The squad regrouped. The shallow wounds on our arms and legs reminded us we weren't untouchable. The mechanical mounts, patient and precise, nudged creatures into openings or blocked attacks without excessive violence. Lune's wolf growled softly, scanning for any lingering threats.
Iver's violet gaze swept the group. "You survived because you adapted, not because you overwhelmed. That's the key. Resonance, mounts, environment—all part of the same equation. Remember that."
I clenched my fists. The pulse in my chest was stronger now, a whisper of what was possible. I could feel it, faintly manipulating shadows, influencing hesitation. Not Bloodlust, not yet, but something entirely my own.
As the squad moved deeper, the tunnels opened into wider chambers. Rusted machinery hummed in sync with the resonance thrumming inside me. Somewhere, deeper, something far more cunning was awake. Watching. Waiting.
And I realized: survival in this place wouldn't come from strength alone. It would come from connection, timing, and the ability to thread control through the chaos.