Carnage...

Aras, of course, was a highly skilled operative. Forged through countless life-or-death battles, he had become a force to be reckoned with. His batons whirled through the air as he continuously fended off the monster, though its raw power and bestial instincts were quickly overwhelming him. There was no rhyme or reason to its erratic attacks—only pure, brute force.

Summoning every ounce of strength, Aras dashed toward Heartbane, ducking beneath a sweeping claw strike and driving one of his batons deep into the creature's side. For a moment, he felt resistance—like piercing something that should no longer be alive at all.

Then came the scream.

A terrible, deafening wail tore through the battlefield as Heartbane staggered, clawing at the wound. Flames erupted around it, staining the sky blood orange.

Aras barely had time to react before the creature lunged again. He threw up a barrier, but Heartbane's claws sliced through it like brittle glass. The shockwave flung him backward, sending him crashing through a crumbling wall. Pain coursed through his body, but he couldn't afford to hesitate. Rolling to his feet, he summoned a burst of energy, hurling debris and wind at the monster. Still, the attack barely slowed Heartbane. Flames surged from its twisted form, warping the space around it as it rushed forward once more.

Gritting his teeth, Aras knew he had to finish this fight—fast.

He drew in a sharp breath, mustering every last scrap of strength, and launched himself at Heartbane with the desperation of a man who knew this might be his final stand. His baton crackled with energy, its glow intensifying until it rivaled the burning blood orange sky. But Heartbane met his charge head-on. Flames surged, distorting the air with impossible heat. In one brutal motion, the creature's claws slammed into Aras's chest, piercing his hastily raised defense as though it were paper.

A jolt of agony tore through him. He felt himself lifted off his feet, then flung aside like a broken doll. The impact cracked the ground beneath him, and every nerve in his body screamed in protest. He tried to rise—tried to push himself up—only to find his limbs unresponsive. Heartbane loomed over him, its twisted visage flickering in and out of reality. In those final moments, Aras caught a glimpse of what lay behind those flaming eyes—a raw, consuming anguish that allowed no mercy.

The final blow came without fanfare. A single, swift slash ended the Transcendent's struggle. Aras's vision blurred; the world faded into a crimson haze, and distant screams were swallowed by the roar of infernal fire.

Heartbane stood victorious—flames dancing higher still, its relentless torment driving it onward.

Back at HQ, shock and disbelief reigned. One of their strongest warriors, Aras the DawnBound, had been defeated—just like that. And, as if by some dark design, Heartbane now knew exactly where they were and was barreling straight for them.

"More backup requested—Aras the DawnBound has been defeated. I repeat, Aras the DawnBound has been defeated. Transcendents are advised not to engage in battle alone," the urgent message crackled over the cross-communicator.

Tridnya, one of the key Transcendents heading toward Heartbane, felt her heart skip a beat as the news reached her. Aras had been incredibly powerful; to face Heartbane without proper support would be courting a swift death.

The Transcendents quickly shared their locations over the network, coordinating to meet at strategic points to intercept the monster before it could reach their stronghold.

Tridnya met up with a team of three trusted Transcendents—Aleron, whose steely gaze was as unyielding as mountains; Maris, calm yet fierce, whose quiet strength spoke volumes; and Zephir, swift and unpredictable, a spark of raw power on the battlefield. They gathered in the shadow of the ruined avenue, their auras flickering in the fading light as they exchanged grim nods.

"We have little time," Tridnya said, her voice steady despite the turmoil within. "We must intercept it before it reaches Stronghold 456 and brings ruin upon our people."

Aleron rumbled, "We stand together, as one. Our fallen comrade cries out for vengeance, and our people depend on us."

Maris added, "Every moment we delay allows this abomination to grow stronger. Let us move as swiftly as our resolve."

Zephir's eyes burned with determination. "Then let's show that abomination what Transcendents are made of."

As they dashed through the carnage-filled streets, they moved as quickly as possible to intercept Heartbane before it reached the stronghold. Aleron stared at his cross-communicator, his face growing grim; the creature was moving even faster now, heading straight for the stronghold.

Tridnya, approaching from a different direction, hadn't realized that her old trail had led Heartbane directly to their command center—a place meant to be hidden and isolated from the raging battle.

"How does Heartbane know exactly where our command center is located?" Zephir demanded, frustration heavy in his tone.

This creature was the stuff of myth and legend—no one had believed it truly existed until now. They knew little about it except its twisted form, the eerie pink and violet flames it wielded, its echoing, soul-rending scream, and the heart visible through its chest, glowing with seething anger.

They were, indeed, too late. By the time they arrived, Heartbane had already begun wrecking the stronghold—its flames devouring everything in their path and claiming lives with relentless fury.

Tridnya's heart sank as fear crept into her chest. The mother and baby she'd left behind were still inside the stronghold.

Then, as they reached the scene, something strange happened. Deep within her, she sensed a godly presence locking onto her soul—a grasp that sent a chill down her spine. In that instant, she lost focus on her dash; her balance faltered, and with a strangled cry, she clutched her chest and fell from the building they were scaling.

"Lady Tridnya!" Zephir shouted as he dove to catch her.

But something was very wrong with her.