The Forgotten

The first strike came without warning.

A figure lunged at Eli, its form twisting mid-air, shifting between solid and digital like a corrupted phantom. Eli barely had time to raise his blade before the thing's jagged arm slashed toward him. He dodged to the side, rolling onto the unstable platform as the creature's strike left a deep, pixelated gash in the ground.

"Yeah, okay," Eli muttered. "Not friendly."

Arjun was already moving, his hands sparking as he summoned a kinetic blast. He threw it toward the nearest entity, sending it reeling back. But instead of collapsing, the creature reassembled itself mid-motion, its fragmented form knitting together in an unnatural, glitching shift.

"They're adapting," Arjun called.

Yumi didn't hesitate. She activated her interface, scanning the creatures for a weak point. Their structure was unstable, constantly rewriting itself—except for the glowing cracks where their eyes should have been.

"Go for the fractures!" she shouted.

Azrael, who had remained silent until now, suddenly moved. He stepped forward, his presence alone sending a ripple through the void. The creatures hesitated, as if sensing something in him they feared—or recognized.

Azrael extended his hand.

A pulse of raw energy erupted from his palm, unraveling one of the entities instantly. Its body collapsed into scattered fragments of data, which dissolved into the air.

The remaining creatures reacted violently.

They swarmed.

Eli slashed through one, his blade passing cleanly through the fracture in its head. The creature convulsed before collapsing into static. Arjun fired another blast, this time targeting the weak spots, and successfully shattered another.

Yumi dodged a strike, landing on one knee before driving her dagger upward. The moment the blade made contact with the glowing crack, the creature screamed—a sound that wasn't a sound at all, but a painful distortion in the fabric of reality itself.

Then it was gone.

The vortex in the distance pulsed erratically. The whispers grew louder, words overlapping in chaotic, desperate cries.

"You must leave—"

"He is coming—"

"It is already too late—"

Azrael's expression darkened. He turned toward the swirling mass of energy at the heart of the void.

"We need to move," he said. "Now."

Yumi nodded, but something about the voices unsettled her. They weren't just warnings. They were echoes.

Echoes of something—or someone—trapped here.

She gritted her teeth and ran. Whatever truth lay ahead, they were going to face it soon.

And something told her they weren't ready.