Azure Oba walked out of the Command Center, his boots crunching on the diamond dust that used to be air.
He moved with the deliberate slowness of a predator who knows he is being watched. His Red Aura (Root Chakra) was no longer a passive hum; it was a roaring furnace, melting the frost in a three-foot radius around him.
"You are loud," Azure rumbled, stopping in the center of the courtyard near the frozen fire. "For ghosts, you step heavy."
CRACK.
The roof of the barracks exploded.
Three figures dropped from the sky, landing in a triangle formation around him. They didn't land like men; they landed like boulders.
Rakshasha Asuras.
They were massive—easily seven feet tall, dwarfing the average soldier, though Azure still looked them in the eye. Their skin was the color of old salt, cracked and dry. From their upper jaws, saber-teeth curved down past their chins. From their lower jaws, warthog tusks jutted up.
They wore armor made of Black Ice—the same material as the spike that had killed the Commander.
"The Red Meat is warm," the lead Rakshasha hissed. Its voice sounded like grinding stones. It held a massive war-hammer made of transparent ice, smoking with blue-black Iku.
"I am not meat," Azure growled. "I am the bone that chokes you."
He didn't wait. He attacked.
Active Weapon Art: The Spear.
Azure channeled his Aura into his Elao tusk. A ten-foot construct of solid Red energy materialized in his grip. He lunged, moving faster than a man his size had any right to move.
BOOM.
The spear struck the lead Rakshasha in the chest.
It should have punched a hole straight through. Instead, the Rakshasha didn't even stumble. The Red energy hit the Black Ice armor and shattered.
Azure's eyes widened. "It absorbs impact?"
The Rakshasha laughed. "We are the End."
It swung the ice hammer.
Azure raised his left arm. Passive Weapon Art: The Cover of a Shield (Durability). His skin turned metallic.
CLANG.
The impact drove Azure's feet six inches into the frozen stone. His arm didn't break, but the shockwave rattled his teeth. The cold from the hammer bit through his Aura, sending a jolt of numbness up his shoulder.
"Fast," Azure grunted, sliding back.
The other two Rakshasha lunged. One slashed with claws dripping in sludge; the other bit at his neck.
Azure spun, using the momentum. He dropped the spear construct and manifested a Sword construct.
He channeled the concept of Sharpness—the idea that two things cannot occupy the same space. He swung the Red Sword in a horizontal arc.
SHING.
The blade caught the second Rakshasha in the waist. This time, the Severity cut deep. It sliced through the Black Ice armor and into the pale flesh.
Black blood—thick, oily Iku—sprayed onto the snow. The Rakshasha roared, falling back, its torso half-severed.
"Got you," Azure snarled.
But as he watched, the Iku in the wound began to bubble. The black sludge reached out like tendrils, stitching the flesh back together. The ice armor froze over the wound in seconds.
The Rakshasha stood up, flexing its healed torso. It smiled, revealing rows of serrated shark teeth.
"Is that all?" it mocked. "Life is so fragile. Entropy is eternal."
Azure took a step back. They regenerated. And not just slowly—instantly.
"This is going to be a problem," he muttered.
The three Rakshasha began to circle him. They synchronized their movements, a pack of wolves cornering a bear.
Azure checked his internal reserves. His Red Aura was burning hot, but the ambient cold of the outpost was draining him. Every breath he took felt like inhaling glass. If he stayed here, they would whittle him down.
He needed to change the battlefield.
"You want heat?" Azure roared. "Take it!"
He slammed his hands together.
He didn't manifest a weapon. He detonated his Aura outward in an omnidirectional blast.
A wave of red fire exploded from his body. It was pure kinetic force.
The blast caught the Rakshasha off guard. It knocked all three of them backward, slamming them into the frozen walls of the courtyard. The ice statues of the dead soldiers shattered in the shockwave.
Azure didn't wait to see if they stood up. He turned and sprinted for the gunship.
"Pilot!" he bellowed into his comms. "Dust off! Now!"
He vaulted over the outpost gate, his legs pumping like pistons.
Behind him, a roar shook the ground. The Rakshasha were already up. They were chasing him, running on all fours like beasts, their claws tearing up the stone.
"Authority!" the pilot screamed as the gunship engines flared to life. "I have three targets closing fast!"
Azure reached the landing pad. The gunship was lifting off, hovering ten feet in the air.
He leaped.
He caught the edge of the ramp with one hand.
At the same moment, the lead Rakshasha leaped from the ground. It soared through the air, its jaws snapping inches from Azure's boot.
Azure looked down into the maw of the monster. He saw the infinite hunger in its black eyes.
"Not today, ugly," Azure growled.
He swung his free hand down manifesting a small Shield construct. He smashed it into the Rakshasha's nose.
The beast yelped and fell away, plummeting back to the ground.
Azure hauled himself into the cargo bay and hit the door seal. The ramp hissed shut.
He collapsed against the bulkhead, his chest heaving. He looked at his arm. There were three distinct frostbite marks where the hammer had hit his shield. His Durability—skin harder than diamond—had been bruised.
"Get us to Akogwa," Azure rasped to the pilot. "Maximum velocity."
"Did we win, sir?" the pilot asked nervously.
Azure looked at his trembling hand. He clenched it into a fist to stop the shaking.
"No," Azure said, his voice grim. "We just survived the appetizer."