The house they camped in was old—its wooden frame warped from moisture, its roof half-caved in, and the scent of mold clinging to every corner. But after the battle, it felt like luxury.
A large circular Artim sigil, drawn in silver chalk, shimmered on the ground, providing a protective barrier around the perimeter. Vorden sat at the edge of it, cross-legged, his katana resting across his lap. A soft blue light radiated from a small crystal orb levitating above their communication circle.
"Special Force 1, reporting in," Vorden said into the crystal. "Creature terminated. Unknown classification—possibly corrupted spiritual entity. Target's Artim patterns were reversed and fragmented, with psionic bleed. Signs of… possession."
Professor Felicia's voice responded after a moment, calm and composed.
