The battle begins

Mount Kilgore sat at the edge of the land of the Cursed. It was tall and wide, its peaks always buried in thick, black clouds. The weather there was usually violent, nonstop turbulent storms, strong winds, and freezing cold. It never stopped. The place was unforgiving and dangerous, filled with hazardous beasts of different grades. Even the strongest of the Cursed didn't go there. Marius never went. Thorne never tried. It wasn't worth the risk.

Near the base of the mountain, where the forest started to thin out, there was an old gate. Massive. Iron. Rusted all over. It had once been one of the city's main gates, but that was a long time ago. Now it was just there... sealed, ignored. Right beside it was a small town called Duskmire.

Duskmire wasn't a town anymore. It used to be. Now it was just empty. The buildings were about to collapse. Roofs had caved in. Doors were missing. Moss cringed to the walls, vines wrapped around wood. No one lived there. No one with a life to live at least. The only people who passed through were drifters, bandits, or the desperate. The place had no law, no safety. They called it a no-man's-land.

But that hadn't always been the case. Long before the buildings started falling, Duskmire had been home to a tribe—the Draveth.

The Draveth weren't like the others. They were still Cursed, but stronger. Built different. They had endurance that didn't make sense. They could fight for days without stopping. Even with broken bones, even while bleeding. They didn't quit. They were strong, but not because of size or training—it was because of their song.

The Draveth had something called a battle song, just like all Vibe users, but theirs was different. Once it started, their bodies changed. They got stronger. Their skin hardened. Their strikes hit harder. Their pain got dulled. It was something only they could do, and they only used it when things got serious. And when they did, they were unstoppable.

That's why the city kept them. The Draveth were the first wall. Whenever monsters tried to breach the outskirts, it was the Draveth who stood in the way. They held their ground every time. They were the reason the city hadn't fallen, time and time again.

Then, one day, they were gone.

Thirty years ago, someone or something wiped them out. No one knows who did it. The reports were never clear. The only thing everyone agreed on was that the entire tribe vanished in one night. No survivors and nothing left.

After that, Duskmire crumbled. The monsters stopped coming for a while. The city didn't need the gate anymore, so they sealed it. The world moved on.

But not everyone forgot. Some remembered the Draveth. At least the ones who lived long enough to talk about them. But the Curse made sure memories didn't last. Old generations died early. New ones never heard the stories. So the Draveth became rumors. Myths. Faded from memory. And when the monsters came back, no one knew what had been lost.

***

MTO Command – Duskmire

Inside a battered house at the edge of Duskmire, chaos was unfolding. The rooms were filled with injured soldiers. Some lay on the ground, wrapped in makeshift bandages. Others leaned against walls, holding their wounds. The air stank of blood, sweat, and smoke. Outside, the creatures growled and howled. The sound was getting louder. They were closing in.

Liora Crest stood near a broken window. She was the second-in-command to the head of the Ministry of Tactical Operations, Thorne Graves. Her eyes were locked outside. She stood up and said, her voice cut through the noise.

"All medics, focus on tending to the injured! Everyone else, get ready to move back out. On my order—go!"

The soldiers moved fast. Weapons were picked up. People shouted. Some helped others stand, and they all moved out.

Liora turned to a tall man nearby—Raymond Rossetti, commander of one of the MTO's divisions. He had taken charge of organizing the troop movements during the attack.

"Raymond, what's the status?"

He shook his head. "We've lost ten percent of the population already. And twenty percent of our fighting force."

Liora's face became tense. She looked down at the floor, then looked back up. "Send more teams to the worst-hit zones. Ligard Bridge and Frosted Valley are top priority."

She stepped over to a map table, marked with red pins and scattered documents. "I'll join you at Frosted. We need to push harder there."

She stopped, then added, "Where are the Elite 13? And Jamie?"

Raymond didn't answer immediately.

"I don't care what their excuse is. Find them. Send them to Ligard Bridge."

She put on her coat and moved toward the door. "The Virtuoso and Thorne are on their way. They'll take over here."

She turned back for one last order. "Also, send Edward's unit to escort the Band-In students. Get them out of this mess."

A voice cut in from the entrance.

"No."

It was Thorne Graves. He stepped into the house with Marius beside him. They were both calm, composed, like the storm outside didn't exist.

Thorne looked straight at Liora. "Don't send anyone to help the Band-In students. They're Echoists now. It's time they started acting like it."

Liora disagreed. She took a step forward. "Come on, you know that's bullshit. They're still kids."

"Are you questioning me?" Thorne asked, raising his tone.

She stepped back, turning her face to the floor. "No, sir."

Then she turned to Raymond. "Tell them. Send the order. Ligard Bridge."

Raymond gave a quiet nod and walked out.

***

Shanks District – Band-In Students

The students were gathered in an old hall. The building was quiet, but the tension was thick. The monsters weren't far off. The growls could be heard outside. The windows were shaky from the noise.

Goldie walked back and forth, chewing on her thumb. "Camille… what were those things?"

Camille sat by the wall. Her arms were crossed, her eyebrows raised. "Why does everyone think I know everything now?"

"So you don't?" Michelle squinted.

"I do," Camille said. "Just didn't wanna talk about it."

"Then why the f did you--- know what, just explain," Goldie snapped.

"Yeah, Camille. You're a wuss," Lyra mumbled, her head resting on Levi's leg.

"Yeah, you're a dork," Levi added, pointing lazily at Camille.

"Shut up." Camille stood up. "I've heard rumors. Only rumors. But… they say those monsters are dead Cursed. People like us who died, but didn't really die. The Curse keeps their bodies alive. Rots their minds. Turns them into beasts."

Everyone went quiet.

"They lose everything," Camille said. "Their memories. Their minds. Everything. They just become madness in a body. They don't feel anything. They'd kill us without blinking. Some of them could be our parents."

Lyra sat up a little. "So we're fighting our own?"

Camille nodded. "Basically. And the worst part is..... they can't stay dead. Kill them today, they'll rise again someday. That's why the MTO built someplace called The Vault. A sealed place to keep them locked away. But… I guess the seal broke."

And at that moment, they all felt true fear. The kind that makes your hands go cold, and your stomach rumble. The kind that makes you wonder if you'll ever see tomorrow.

Lyra looked down. Her mom's last words echoing in her mind. "You'll get to live." But what kind of life was this?

A man stepped forward to the center of the hall. Samuel Albert. The captain of the Harmonics assigned to the Band-In students. He looked serious.

"The MTO has sent new orders," he said. "You're being deployed."

The room reacted instantly. Some gasped. Some started talking.

Goldie rushed over to Nox.

"You said Thorne wasn't like this."

"Guess I was wrong," Nox said.

Samuel raised his voice. "Enough. We have one hour. Then we move to Ligard Bridge. Gear up."

The room went quiet.

Lyra stood up. She looked around at her friends. Goldie. Levi. Camille. Spencer. Michelle. She didn't know if they were the ones her mom meant. The ones she'd survive with. Cry with. She didn't know if they'd live or die.

But she knew one thing—

She would protect them. No matter what. They had given her life meaning, and she was hellbent on repaying them.

"Lar'a," she called.