They shouldn't have taken the shortcut.
Aiden knew it the moment the path narrowed.
The markings in the stone—those shallow, deliberate grooves that guided travel through the Broken East—grew faint. Then irregular.
Then stopped entirely.
Isamu noticed a second later.
"…We're off-route."
Aiden slowed. "Turn around."
Behind them, the stone had already shifted.
Not dramatically.
Just enough.
A slab leaned where it hadn't been before.
The passage they'd used to slip through now looked narrower.
Someone whispered, "It wasn't like that."
Aiden didn't answer.
His eyes tracked the ridges above them.
High ground.
Always high ground.
They moved anyway.
Carefully.
The shortcut opened into a shallow basin of fractured rock surrounded by leaning spires. Wind slid through the gaps in low, uncertain currents.
A bad place to stop.
"We cut maybe ten minutes," Isamu muttered. "Worth it."
Aiden shook his head. "We don't know that."
The first figure appeared without warning.
One moment the ridge was empty.
The next, someone stood there.
Dark coat.
Mask of dull metal strapped across the lower half of their face.
No visible weapon.
Three more followed.
Different angles.
Perfect spacing.
Isamu exhaled slowly. "Told you."
Aiden raised a hand behind him.
Hold.
The masked figure spoke.
"You left the marked routes."
Calm.
Flat.
Not angry.
Aiden stepped forward slightly. "We misjudged the terrain."
The figure tilted their head.
"You misjudged the boundary."
Another step from the ridge.
Closer.
"You were instructed."
Isamu shifted.
Aiden felt it—heat in the air, subtle pressure rolling outward from his friend.
Not controlled.
Rising.
"We're correcting it," Aiden said.
The masked one didn't answer.
They lifted a hand.
Two of the others started moving.
Flanking.
Aiden's pulse quickened.
Not fear.
Calculation.
"Isamu—"
Too late.
Isamu moved.
Fast.
The ground cracked beneath his foot as he launched himself up the slope, fist already swinging.
The nearest enforcer raised an arm.
The impact boomed.
Stone spiderwebbed.
The enforcer slid backward several meters… then stopped.
Didn't fall.
Didn't stagger.
Isamu blinked.
"…Huh."
The enforcer stepped forward again.
Isamu grinned.
"Okay."
He hit them harder.
The second blow slammed like a hammer.
The enforcer went flying this time—smashing into a pillar hard enough to leave a crater.
The others froze.
For half a breath.
Then moved.
Two at once.
Aiden drew his blade.
Didn't rush in.
Watched.
Tracked.
One enforcer swept low—Isamu jumped it.
Another aimed for his back—
Aiden intercepted, blade ringing against unseen force as the strike slid away at the last instant.
The air felt thick.
Isamu roared and surged forward again.
Something inside him flared.
Not light.
Not sound.
Force.
He drove a punch into the masked enforcer's chest.
The figure shot backward, skidding across stone and slamming into the far wall.
Cracks raced outward.
Silence fell.
For one heartbeat.
Then—
Isamu staggered.
Just a little.
Aiden saw it.
His breathing wasn't steady anymore.
His shoulders trembled.
A line of blood ran from Isamu's nose.
"Isamu," Aiden snapped.
"I'm fine," he barked, wiping it away.
He stepped forward again.
His leg twitched.
The enforcers regrouped.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Not panicked.
That scared Aiden more than the first clash.
"You're pushing too hard," Aiden said.
Isamu didn't answer.
His eyes were bright.
Too bright.
"Don't—"
Isamu lunged.
The masked enforcer raised a hand again.
Aiden felt something tighten in the air—
—and the chapter cut off here.