Return To Ruin

The walls screamed.

Metal, once sturdy and bolted with reinforced rune-anchors, now buckled and caved as wave after wave of sovereign-mutated echoforms smashed through.

Alarms blared across the perimeter—some already silenced as their power nodes were torn out.

"This is Echo-Veil Delta! We're losing containment on the southern flank!"

"Grade C through D types have fully mutated—repeat, fully mutated! These are not standard patterns!"

"They've overridden formation parameters! We can't even track their movement signatures—!"

Inside the dim-lit war tent, Handler Kira Jahina's gloved hands trembled as she stared at the live feed projected by the diviner lens.

Sovereign glyphs—normally dormant or corrupted—were now flaring bright crimson, branded across the echoforms' bodies like infectious script. They moved with unnatural coordination, almost as if guided.

"Gods above…" she muttered. "They're not just mutating. They're adapting."

A massive tremor struck outside—causing dust to rain from the ceiling beams. Screams followed. Another perimeter gone.

In the silence that followed, one of the attending Watch Officers whispered:

"Handler Jahina… they're breaching the Kappa field. Unless we receive support—"

Kira turned, voice sharp:

"Where is Commander Varess?"

The operator's expression darkened.

"Still trapped inside the Broken Layer Phase. Communications cut. Clock says she has four hours left before the temporal tether allows a safe extraction."

The tent fell into silence.

Four hours.That was a lifetime in this siege.

Veilers from the Foxtail Squadron, led by interim commander Hyacinth Uganda, were bloodied and bruised, forming shifting formations between the mountainous ridges. Echoforms swarmed them from the ravines and cliffs, many of them bearing crown-like protrusions from their skulls—evidence of sovereign integration.

One such creature stood tall in the mist—a malformed centaur-like shape with metal wire nerves spilling like hair, its voice garbled yet calculated:

"Requesting your soul"

Hyacinth didn't hesitate.

"Scatter and bait, now! Use aerial elevation, push it into the mines!"

Echoform shrieked and lunged, only to be met with a full frontal explosion as the slope behind it detonated.

Two seconds later, it emerged again—untouched.

"It's regenerating too fast!" one Veiler cried. "We can't outpace its cycle!"

"Then stop aiming to kill," Hyacinth snapped. "Pin it. Stall it. We just need to survive until—"

She caught herself.

There was no rescue coming.

Aki was still inside the Phase. Sichuan's main lines were crumbling. And they had used up nearly half of the remaining automated Machine Veilers.

Hope felt thin.

Several handlers across the other squadrons convened virtually, voices tense and strained.

"We need to request a full suppression protocol—""Denied. That would cost us the entire eastern energy grid—""We are hemorrhaging squads, we need real leadership!"

The image of Aki remained frozen on the center monitor—her time marker ticking slowly.

03:59:22

"She's our strongest strategist," Kira muttered. "And right now, we're losing without her."

— Just Outside the Broken Layer Phase, Eastern Sichuan Fringe

The rift yawned behind them like a bleeding scar in the sky, slowly sealing shut. The faint pulse of its dimensional hum fizzled as the squad tumbled out into the real world—soaked, disoriented, and barely holding themselves upright.

They didn't even get a breath before they were met with fire and metal.

Sovereign-mutated Grade C echoforms, dozens of them, already converging toward their reentry point as if they had been waiting.

"Contact! They're rushing in!" Jerome shouted, already swinging his palm forward, igniting a concussive blast that cleared their left flank.

Seyfe turned, dragging Saline, whose skin was pale and veins visibly glowing under her skin with residual weaver strain.

"Jerome! Emi! Cover Ferez and me—we need to get her stabilized or she's going to slip!"

"Where?! There's nothing but scorched wreckage and cliffs!" Emi responded, slashing a mutated canine-shaped echoform with a flash of her cryo-blade. "We need a temporary core anchor!"

Ferez, panting and bruised, activated his last functioning drone—projecting a weak barrier around their formation.

"She's going into system fatigue shock," he said. "Her core's overclocked too hard in the phase—if we don't bleed off the overload soon—"

"Then we're carrying a time bomb with us." Seyfe gritted his teeth. "I'm not letting her die."

He knelt beside her, the rain mixing with the blood smeared across her cheek. Her breathing was shallow, and her fingers twitched against his wrist.

"Saline, hey," he murmured. "Stay with me. You're not done. We're not done."

A roar cracked through the sky again.

The mutated echoforms advanced—feline-headed, pipeline-veined abominations with sickly green lines pulsing through their flesh. Their claws scraped stone like razors.

"They're boxing us in!" Emi warned.

Jerome's blasts were slowing—he was burning his reserves. Even Emi's frost began to crack as she pushed past her limit.

"We can't outrun this!" Ferez called. "We either break through or we die here!"

"Then we break through." Seyfe stood, jaw clenched, hands curling into fists. "Jerome—blast the ridge wall ahead. Emi, push the ice veil forward. Ferez—sync your pulse with Saline's and bleed her core slowly."

"And you?" Jerome asked.

Seyfe stared at the oncoming swarm, eyes cold.

"I'll buy us time."

And then, he ran forward.

Straight into the storm of sovereign mutations.

The rain pounded harder, almost as if the heavens themselves wished to bury what was left of them in ash and fire.

Seyfe charged into the wave alone—through the skittering screeches of metallic claws, the flickering lights of failing beacon drones, and the sound of his own heartbeat pulsing in his ears.

Each step cracked rubble.

Each breath burned.

He moved with rhythm—but not grace. This wasn't style. This wasn't refined combat. This was refusal.

"They're not going to take her. Not Saline. Not anyone."

One of the echoforms lunged—a sleek, black-plated thing with a wolf's body and three violet eyes.

He ducked, slid, and slammed the spine of his blade straight into its side. Sparks. Friction. Bone-like metal cracked under the strain, but it wasn't enough to bring it down fully.

"Tch—stubborn bastard."

He twisted mid-spin, slamming his boot into its jaw to send it spiraling backward.

But then—

A sharp pulse surged through his side. It came without warning.

Like a fire being poured into his blood.

He stumbled, coughed—blood hit the back of his throat.

"Really now?" he growled, blinking through the pain. His vision shook.

A violet afterimage trailed the monsters' eyes like echoes haunting his periphery.

He knew what it was. The telltale flare of RCM onset. A sickness born from the weaver rune integration that corrupts the DNA at a cellular level.

Every other subject died. He didn't.

He wasn't supposed to survive.

And now—his body reminded him that death was still patient. Still watching.

"Of all the times to knock... you choose now?" he muttered.

Another beast closed in—this one with mechanical jaws wide enough to crush a pillar. Seyfe didn't dodge this time.

He charged.

Slid under it.

Then jammed his knee up into its core junction, embedding his blade with such force that the creature spasmed and convulsed—before erupting into chunks.

His right hand twitched. Blood soaked through his glove.

"Body's breaking again," he hissed. "But you're going to wait. You hear me? You're going to wait till I'm done."

One by one, they fell. Not because Seyfe was faster. Not because he was stronger. But because he refused to stop.

His coat was torn. His arms—sliced. His knees—barely holding. But he kept moving, clearing the path for the others inch by inch.

In the distance, Jerome finally blew open the collapsed ridge.

"Seyfe!! We're through!! Get back here!" Emi's voice echoed, distorted through the coms.

Ferez waved from the newly carved path, shielding Saline with a reinforced kinetic veil. She was barely breathing.

Seyfe exhaled, lowered his stance, and turned to run—

Until his legs collapsed.

He fell to one knee. His vision dimmed—vibrated. Blood ran down from his ear.

RCM overload.

It was like having your body implode without warning.

"...Not now," he said. "Not yet—"

One of the echoforms still remained.

It approached slowly. Confidently.

Behind Seyfe, the exit was waiting.

So were his team.

"You can't die yet, remember?"

"You told that kid in the outskirts you'd never let another live your kind of life."

"Get the fuck up."

The world began to blur.

The shrieking of echoforms became a muffled wind. The smell of ozone and rust, blood and ash, faded into a cold, static silence.

Seyfe's vision dimmed.

His body, crushed by RCM's wrath, betrayed him.

Each beat of his heart was a war drum slowly slowing.

Then—A whisper.A breath in the silence.

"Get up, Seyfe..."

A voice—soft, yet sharp.It echoed not through his ears but inside his soul.

"Seyfe... do you know the story of the great Kilanya?"

And then—A flood of warmth broke through the chill.Like a memory not recalled, but summoned.

He was three years old again.

A cramped little room. Blankets frayed at the edges. A flickering orange lantern. And the steady hum of wind against old wooden panels.

His mother's voice—tired, but full of stories that always made the world seem less cruel.

She stroked his messy hair and smiled with those weathered eyes.

"Kilanya was regarded as a hero when the Shattering happened."

"But he wasn't a Veiler, Seyfe... not a saint, not someone gifted. He wasn't blessed."

"He was a monster himself."

Seyfe's small fingers had clutched a threadbare toy as he listened, mouth slightly parted.

"Funny, right? A monster who became a hero."

"People used to call him the Everlast. You know why?"

The memory of his childlike voice had piped up:

"Because... he never gives up?"

His mother chuckled.

"Because he never falls. When he fights, it's like the world itself tries to knock him down—but he stands. Even when broken, even when torn."

"They said even death couldn't make him kneel."

She paused, pulling him close.

"Truly... the everlasting warrior of this cursed world."

Then her voice softened, almost like a lullaby.

"Who knows, Seyfe... maybe one day, you will everlastingly serve a purpose of your own."

Back in the now—

Seyfe's eyes slowly cracked open.

He couldn't move—but he could feel again. Feel the weight of the world pressing on him. The danger. The presence of the team behind him. The still-burning echoforms ahead. Saline. Emi. Jerome. Ferez.

His fingers twitched.

His chest rose.

Pain screamed—but it didn't matter.

A whisper escaped his lips.

"Everlast... huh?"

He planted one foot.

Then the other.

And stood.

The echoform, moments from striking him down, hesitated.

Something had changed. Not in his body.

In his presence.

His spine straightened.

His pupils sharpened.

The faintest glow pulsed along the rune lines in his skin—not from RCM's curse, but from a fire he hadn't acknowledged in years.

"Guess I'm not done yet."