The scavengers charged over the ridge, a twin blur of lean muscle and snapping jaws, their snarls tearing through the night like a blade through flesh.
The air crackled with their hunger, their gleaming eyes locked on Raven, Xin, and Belial, who stood poised on the cracked plateau. The trio braced themselves, weapons raised, their breaths syncing in the heartbeat before the fight erupted.
Raven moved first, a black-armored juggernaut surging forward to meet the onslaught. His gauntlets glowed faintly, ether pulsing through the reinforced metal as he roared a challenge. The lead scavenger—a wiry, sinewy beast with claws like daggers—leapt at him, its jaws wide.
Raven sidestepped, his reflexes razor-sharp despite the fatigue gnawing at his bones, and slammed his fist into its flank. The blow landed with a crunch, sending the creature skidding across the dirt, but its packmate was already on him, slashing with claws that gleamed in the moonlight.
Xin reacted, the Dharma Wheel spinning in his hands, its golden light flaring as he darted to Raven's left. He thrust it forward, unleashing a burst of ether that slammed into the second scavenger's chest, staggering it mid-leap. The beast hissed, shaking off the impact, and lunged again, its claws raking toward Xin's side. He twisted, the Wheel spinning faster, and deflected the strike with a shimmering barrier, the force reverberating up his arms.
Belial joined the fray, his wounded body screaming in protest as he charged the first scavenger. His sword flickered with ether, a silver streak as he swung it in a wide arc. The blade caught the creature's shoulder, slicing through muscle and bone, and it screeched, reeling back. But it didn't fall—its wiry frame twisted, claws lashing out in retaliation. Belial ducked, the talons grazing his shirt, and countered with a thrust that pierced its side, dark blood spraying across the stone.
The fight spiraled into a commotion of chaos. The scavengers were relentless, their speed and coordination a deadly combination. Raven grappled with the second, his gauntlets clashing against its claws in a shower of sparks. He blocked a bite aimed at his throat, the beast's teeth snapping inches from his face, and shoved it back with a grunt of effort. Xin flanked the first, his Dharma Wheel slicing through the air in precise bursts, harrying it with blasts of ether that kept it off-balance. Belial pressed his attack, his blade weaving a pattern of strikes—slash, thrust, parry—each move fueled by a stubborn will to survive.
But the scavengers were intelligent creatures. The first darted low, its claws raking at Raven's legs, forcing him to stagger. The second leapt over Xin's barrier, its jaws snapping at Belial's wounded shoulder. He twisted away, pain flaring white-hot, and slashed upward, the blade grazing its snout. Blood dripped, but it only enraged the beast further, its eyes narrowing as it circled for another strike.
"We can't keep this up!" Xin shouted, his voice strained as he spun the Dharma Wheel faster, sweat beading on his brow.
Raven's jaw tightened. "Then we end it." He planted his feet, his gauntlets flexing, and roared—a primal sound that echoed across the plateau.
The scavengers took the bait. Both lunged at him, drawn by his challenge, their claws and teeth aimed to tear him apart. Raven braced himself, using his bulk as a lure, and at the last second, he lunged forward. His gauntlets shot out, seizing each creature by the scruff of its mane—tufts of wiry fur sprouting from their necks. His fingers dug in, the metal creaking under the strain, and he yanked them toward him with a snarl. The beasts thrashed, their claws slashing at his armor, leaving deep gouges, but Raven held firm, his strength a wall they couldn't break.
"Now!" he bellowed, his voice raw.
Xin seized the moment. The Dharma Wheel spun into a radiant blur, its edges sharpening with ether as he hurled it forward. The disc sliced through the air, a golden guillotine, and struck the first scavenger's neck where Raven held it.
The blade bit deep, severing sinew and bone in a single, clean cut. Blood sprayed, the creature's screech cut short as its head lolled and its body slumped, lifeless, in Raven's grip.
Belial moved in sync, his sword igniting with a surge of ether as he summoned his art. "Death Dance: Rebirth," he growled, his voice a low chant. He spun, his wounded leg buckling but holding, and the blade became a streak of light...a single, fluid slash that flowed like water and struck like thunder. The second scavenger, still caught in Raven's grasp, had no chance to react. The cut was flawless, slicing through its torso from shoulder to hip, ether flaring as it cleaved flesh and bone in two. The beast's halves fell apart, blood pooling beneath it, its eyes dimming as the life drained away.
The plateau fell silent, the night reclaiming its stillness. Raven dropped the corpses, his chest heaving, gauntlets slick with blood. Xin caught the Dharma Wheel as it returned, his hands trembling from the effort, his painted face pale but resolute. Belial staggered, leaning on his sword for support, His body protesting—wanting to shut down because of the poison, but a faint grin tugged at his lips. "That's more like it," he rasped.
Raven wiped his gauntlets on his armor, his breath steadying. "Clean enough for you?"
Xin snorted, though relief softened his tone. "Cleaner than last time."
They didn't linger. The ether from the scavengers was theirs for the taking, but they needed more than energy....they needed water. Their makeshift horn containers, fashioned from beast horns, hung empty at their sides, a reminder of the lake they'd avoided for days. "Let's move," Belial said, limping forward. "Before more show up."
The trek to the lake was slow, their wounds and exhaustion dragging at them like chains. The night deepened, the air growing colder, the wasteland's silence broken only by the crunch of gravel underfoot. Raven led, his senses sharp. Xin followed, the Dharma Wheel dim but ready, while Belial trailed, his stubborn pride keeping him upright despite the pain.
The lake shimmered into view, a dark mirror reflecting the twisted sky. Its surface was still, eerily calm, the water's edge fringed with jagged rocks and bioluminescent algae that cast a faint, ghostly glow. They approached cautiously, scanning for threats—monsters lurking beneath the surface, scavengers drawn by the scent of blood. But the night held its breath, offering a rare moment of reprieve.
Raven knelt first, filling his horn container with a steady hand, the water sloshing softly. Xin followed, dipping his own into the cool depths, the cold a shock against his feverish skin. Belial joined them, wincing as he crouched, his poisoned body trembling. He filled his container, then straightened, the horn dripping as he raised it to his lips. The water was bitter, tinged with the wasteland's rot, but it soothed the dryness in his throat, a small mercy after days of deprivation.
They stood there, side by side, gazing into the distance. The horizon stretched endless and dark, a void punctuated by faint flickers of ether mist and the silhouettes of distant ridges. The night was alive with unseen dangers, a tapestry of threats they'd faced and would face again. Xin's fingers brushed the Dharma Wheel, his mind heavy with the poison still plaguing Belial, the limits of his healing gnawing at him. Raven's gauntlets flexed, his silence a shield against the weariness creeping in. Belial's golden eyes burned, unyielding, even as his body faltered.
...
Deep beneath the mountains, where sunlight dared not reach and silence reigned like a forgotten god, a sickening sound echoed through the tunnels.
A heavy thud...wet, final...rattled the rocks. A massive creature, once proud and mighty, lay broken against the jagged stone. Its dusked, fallen form twitched one last time before going still, its minor roars of pain swallowed by the darkness.
The air was thick with rot and damp, and in that suffocating blackness, something moved.
It crouched beside the corpse, its armored frame slick with grime and gore. Plates of dark metal clung to its gaunt limbs like a second skin, but nothing about it seemed human. It was tall—far too tall—its limbs wrong in the way they bent, its fingers ending in curved, chitinous claws that tore flesh like parchment. It ate noisily, greedily, the sounds of tearing sinew and crunching bone bouncing off the cavern walls like a grotesque symphony.
Then it stopped.
The thing raised its head. Slowly. Deliberately.
A long, shuddering breath escaped it, the kind only predators take when they've caught a new scent. Its head twisted at an unnatural angle as it sniffed the air—once, twice—then it froze.
It had noticed.
Something else was down here.
In the span of a breath, it was gone, sprinting into the shadows on two legs with the horrifying grace of something made to hunt.