The fog was thicker than before. It pressed in from every side, wrapping the trail in a dense, soundless gray that tasted of old stone and static. It wasn't mist or natural weather—it moved with intent. It seemed to pulse, like it was alive and breathing in sync with something just out of sight. Lana walked at the front of the group, her steps slow and steady, eyes sharp. Every crunch of gravel beneath her boots was muffled. The world felt suspended, like something had paused the air around them.
They'd broken camp at dawn, heading north as planned. The trail narrowed between jagged cliffs and steep rock corridors. Visibility dropped with each step, until even Nyx's drones—usually reliable down to a millimeter—started glitching.
"Signal disruption," Nyx said, her voice low but urgent. She tapped furiously on her tablet. "Something's dampening the frequencies. Artificial fog. It's designed to confuse tech—and maybe instincts."
Lana didn't slow. "It's meant to trap us."
Jason, gun at the ready, muttered behind them. "It's working. I can't even hear my own footsteps."
Kieran, walking beside Lana, was already partially shifted. His eyes had gone gold, his fingers curled halfway to claw. "They're close," he said. "And they're not here to talk."
The ambush came without warning.
From the cliffs above and the crevices below, they came—black shapes in motion, fast as thought. The first attacker struck like a thunderbolt, slamming into Jason and driving him sideways into the rock. He grunted, twisting as he hit the ground, weapon lost in the impact. The enemy didn't pause, claws ripping through air.
Kieran roared and launched himself forward. His body blurred, shifting mid-leap into his full form—a towering beast of sinew and fanged fury. He caught the attacker with both arms and slammed him into the cliff wall. The impact boomed like stone exploding. The attacker convulsed, bones breaking beneath the force.
Another enemy dove from the left—silent, fast. Nyx twisted sideways, her boots skidding on wet rock. She dropped a sound-bomb at her feet. It flashed a tight burst of pressure and light. The attacker reeled mid-lunge, disoriented. Jason, groaning as he crawled up from the dirt, aimed and fired. The EMP round hit square in the chest, wrapping around the enemy's torso like a net. Sparks danced across his limbs as he hit the ground twitching.
From above, two more figures dropped down. Lana turned, body low, eyes sharp. Her instincts surged. One came for her chest with extended claws—slick, curved, meant to shred.
She caught his wrist.
The attacker didn't expect resistance. He paused for half a second.
That was enough.
Lana's signal flared. Not bright, but dense. A pulse exploded from her palm into his chest. It wasn't visible—it was something deeper, like air thickening around a thought. He choked mid-motion. His limbs trembled. Then he collapsed like a puppet whose strings had snapped.
The second attacker nearly reached her, ducking low, aiming for her legs. Kieran's claws caught him mid-stride, sweeping him clean off the ground and hurling him into a nearby boulder. The body hit with a sickening crunch.
Still more came.
A fifth enemy circled from behind. This one was leaner, wrapped in hybrid armor and bone plates. He darted past Nyx, who spun and dropped another device—this one emitting a localized sonic pulse. The sound made the air ripple. The attacker stumbled, blood trickling from one ear.
Kieran was on him in a blink, slamming him down with such force the rock split beneath.
Then came the sixth.
He was different.
Taller. Bulkier. Wrapped in tech-fused plating. His face was covered in a cracked mask made of bone and metal. Wires wrapped around his arms like veins, and his claws were sharpened steel. He moved slowly at first—confident. Lana stepped toward him, but he didn't strike.
He looked at her.
Not at her face. At her signal.
"The Crownless must remain crownless," he said in a low, garbled voice. "The throne belongs to no echo."
Lana's pulse skipped.
Then he lunged.
She twisted sideways, but not fast enough. His claws raked her side. She gritted her teeth as hot blood spread across her ribs.
He didn't pause. He aimed for her throat next, claws rising again.
Kieran tackled him mid-step. The two collided with a growl and crash, tumbling across the rocks. Dust exploded into the air. Kieran roared, slamming the enemy down again and again, claws tearing through armor.
The attacker managed one last twist, elbowing Kieran in the jaw with a vicious crack. Then he turned and ran—bleeding, but fast. Too fast.
He vanished into the fog.
Jason limped up, blood smeared on his brow. "You okay?"
Lana pressed her hand to her side. "Cut deep. Not fatal."
Kieran approached, his breath ragged. "That one… he wasn't just enhanced. He was trained."
"They all were," Jason said. "That wasn't random."
Nyx looked up from her device. "I tracked fragments of their neural sync. They're with the Fractured Maw."
"The ones Aelith warned us about," Lana muttered.
"More than that," Nyx added. "They didn't come to intimidate. They came to kill."
Lana swayed slightly. Kieran caught her elbow.
"You need to rest."
"No time."
He held her gaze. "You bleed too. You're still mortal."
"I can't afford to feel that right now."
Jason reloaded slowly. "We need to move. This fog… it's not done yet."
Nyx nodded, tapping through her tablet. "I've got partial locations. Their tech isn't clean. I can follow it."
Kieran wrapped a strip of cloth around Lana's waist, pressing firm. She winced, but didn't stop him.
He leaned close. "Next time, don't face them alone."
"I didn't."
He smiled—barely—and kissed her temple.
The fog didn't lift.
But they walked forward, every step louder than the silence.
Behind them, the ground still steamed from blood and broken metal.
And somewhere, the Fractured Maw watched.
Waiting.
Plotting their next strike.