Kai yelled, "Akari, we gotta move, now!" and without waiting, they bolted, feet pounding against the rocky ground, but then—massive chunks of stone hurtled toward them like missiles tearing through the air, and before they could dodge, the earth shook violently as something massive landed right in front of them.
The giant Heloxian Knight towered over them, muscles like twisted steel and armor grown from living bone, his presence suffocating, and Akari's eyes narrowed as she pulled her tachi free, moving with lethal precision, slicing through the air and landing a sharp slash on the giant—but the Knight didn't even flinch, not a single scratch, like she had cut through smoke.
Before Kai could react, the giant knight's clawed hand shot out, grabbing Akari mid-motion and flinging her across the ground like she weighed nothing, and she hit the dirt hard, groaning as pain flared in her side.
The Knight loomed over Kai, voice a low rumble shaking the cave walls. "I am the Left Hand Knight of the Queen, the second strongest in the realm. You stand no chance."
Kai's jaw clenched, transforming his arm into a swirling mass of parasite-infused steel, ready to strike.
Kai's boots slid across the gravel as he shifted low, parasite-arm pulsing, warped with plates and tendrils that hissed steam.
The Heloxian Knight stood like a twisted cathedral—ten feet tall, spiked carapace gleaming in bio-luminescent shades, and hands like tree trunks ending in hooked bone-blades.
Its skull-shaped helm tilted with predatory mockery.
Left Hand Knight and second strongest. Of course, just my luck.
Kai inhaled. Then he dashed.
His parasite-arm snapped forward, a coiled spear of chitin launching for the Knight's chest.
But the Knight twisted, side-stepped the strike like a dancer, then brought down a jagged fist. Kai ducked. The ground behind him exploded. Rock dust rained like ash.
He slid under the knight's reach, rolled, then leapt, twisting mid-air as his parasite morphed his other arm into a jagged hook. He slammed it into the Knight's back.
Got you—
But the chitin cracked like Kai had hit a mountain.
The Knight reached behind like swatting a fly, grabbed Kai's torso mid-leap, then slammed him down into the stone floor.
It felt like being hit by a train. His ribs screamed. Kai coughed blood, rolled away, barely dodging a stomp that shattered the earth into a crater.
"GeneDevourer," the Knight growled, voice like grinding tectonic plates, "you kill our spawn and wear our skin. That is unforgivable."
Kai groaned, standing on shaky legs. His left shoulder was dislocated. His vision swam.
"I'm just trying to save my friends," he said, spitting blood. "Sorry if I wrecked your incest huts."
The Knight lunged.
Kai dove sideways, parasite tendrils wrapping his legs mid-roll and snapping him into a side-flip. His arm morphed again—into a serrated whip—and he lashed it across the Knight's face.
Sparks flew, no blood.
The Knight's blade-arm shot out—Kai blocked with both arms—then screamed as bone tore through flesh. He was flung like a ragdoll. He hit a boulder.
Sekh—what the hell—this guy's a fortress.
Sekh's voice buzzed in his skull like a whisper of silk. "Your flesh is not ready. Your power is limited. You need time."
I don't have time!
"One minute left. Make a choice. Fight or run."
Kai forced himself up. His parasite arm was mangled. His ribs were broken. His breath came in ragged gasps.
The Knight didn't even look winded.
Then—Kai roared and charged.
He ducked a sweeping slash, drove his parasite arm straight into the Knight's thigh joint. The spike punctured an inch. The Knight reacted.
There, that's your weak spot.
He twisted, tore upward—but the Knight countered fast, ramming a knee into his chest. Bones cracked. Then, with one arm, the Knight flung him up and slammed him into the ceiling.
Kai hit, dropped, and didn't get up.
He couldn't move. His body wouldn't listen.
Everything screamed pain.
The Knight walked toward him, slow, deliberate.
"You lose."
Kai's vision blurred. His muscles spasmed.
Kai lay there, breath shallow, pain lancing through his limbs. Then, through the haze, he saw Akari crawling toward him, clutching her side but holding out her hand.
The flashback hit her suddenly—the warm glow of a quiet dojo, his mind shifting to Akari's past.
Her father, an ancient swordsman, had once told her, "The Moonlit Glow technique is not just a sword style; it's the spirit of our clan, flowing through every strike, every breath, a dance of light in darkness."
Her clan, the Tsukikage, was famed in old Japan—not for brute strength, but for their mastery of balance and precision, guardians of sacred knowledge lost to time, wielders of the Moonlit Glow, a technique said to bend light and shadow to confuse foes and strike true.
Akari's eyes flickered with renewed fire, clutching her tachi tighter.
Kai knew this fight wasn't over.
Akari stood. Her legs shook, blood trailing down her arm, and her tachi rattled faintly in her grip. But her eyes… they were distant, like she wasn't looking at the battlefield anymore.
She was standing beneath a crescent moon, in a courtyard of sakura trees, wind brushing through tall grass, a man standing before her in loose robes and a tired smile.
"Akari," her father had said, "the sword doesn't need to be fast, or heavy, or flashy. It needs to speak. It needs to carry the voice of your heart, and let it echo through steel."
The Knight took a single step forward. His voice rumbled like a tomb door. "Stop. There is no need for you to fight. You've lost once. You will lose again."
He tilted his head. Then his tone shifted—low, amused. "Ah, it's you!"
Kai blinked. What?
The Knight's helm gleamed in the ambient Rift light. "You are the feral girl who destroyed our hatchery huts near the river months ago. The one who raided food stores and slaughtered our scouts in the canopy trench. Yes, you escaped again."
He took another step forward, slow, like scolding a runaway pet. "You've been trapped in this realm for over five years, haven't you? Eating fruits like a beast, sleeping in ruins and chasing shadows. Is that still the life you want?"
Kai's heart dropped into his gut.
Five years. She's been stuck here five years....
He looked at her again, really looked.
Akari's eyes didn't change. But her grip did.
She turned to him.
"I'm glad I met you, Kai," she said quietly. "You were the first human I've seen in five years. I thought… I forgot what talking felt like. I even forgot how laughter sounded when it wasn't just in my head."
Then she faced the Knight again and lowered into a stance.
Her father's voice echoed in her mind again.
"The Moonlit Glow isn't just a strike. It's a memory, a feeling. When you swing it, let the world slow. Let them hear your sorrow. Let the moon weep through you."
Akari's sword glowed faintly under the Riftlight. Silver wind curled around her blade. She stepped once, then again—and vanished.
The Knight raised both arms in a block, bracing—
But the slash fell.
Not fast and not loud. Just final.
A quiet arc of silver drifted down like moonlight over still water.
The Knight's armor sparked—then cracked.
It split down the middle. Slowly, surely.
He let out a choked roar, staggered back, then dropped to one knee.
Akari exhaled.
The wind stopped.
Then, with a deep crack and a burst of bio-light, the Knight's torso split apart, severed clean through.
His upper body toppled. A moment later, his lower half followed.
Silence.
She stood there, blade lowered, the wind brushing her bangs aside.
She had won.
---
Kai lay back on the soft grass, the weight of exhaustion pressing down on him like a stone.
Darkness edged his vision, the battlefield slipping away as consciousness betrayed him.
Akari had been the one to carry him. Her arms were surprisingly strong as she carried him away from the fight without a word.
Five years, his mind swirled weakly. She's been trapped here that long. Maybe we're not so different after all. I was terrified of Sekh for three years too, and now… it's different.
The world tilted and he slipped fully under.
When Kai woke, the forest around him was eerily still.
The huge army of Heloxians that had pressed so close before had vanished like smoke on the wind. Marin's voice crackled through the comms, sharp and puzzled. "No idea what happened to them, but they're gone. Nothing on any of my scans either."
Akari was already there, sitting nearby and talking with Sylvie. It was the first time the two met.
Sylvie's tone held a faint smile. "So you're the new band member, huh?"
Akari blinked, confusion knitting her brow. "Band member? What band are you talking about?"
Before Sylvie could reply, Marin arrived, moving cautiously through the trees, eyes flicking over every shadow as she made sure they weren't being followed. "Alright, it looks safe here. No signs of any hostile movement, so you can stop hiding behind rocks for a bit."
The three of them introduced themselves in a flurry of quick, overlapping words and clipped smiles, the tension easing just a bit.
Kai lay back, staring up at the leafy canopy far above like it was a ceiling, the strange quiet pressing in on him. Five years stuck here, he thought again. That's insane.
A small fire flickered in his chest, an ember of hope. Maybe I can bring her out—bring all of us—back to the real world. Back to a life where this doesn't have to be the whole story.
Ash's voice cut through his thoughts, a sharp question about his parasite and how he'd suddenly gotten stronger. Sylvie nodded, adding her agreement, surprised by Kai's sudden rise from weak to warrior.
Kai explained—no easy words could capture the wild, jagged truth of the bond he had with Sekh, how it had started as a truce but was shaping him into something necessary.
Then Marin's voice broke in again, a note of urgency threading through the calm. "Almost three days have passed here inside the Rift, which means about thirty minutes in the real world, so we need to wrap this up fast before things get worse."