The city groaned as the tear in the sky widened, spilling more creatures — malformed and writhing in the eerie twilight.
They moved like smoke and ash, fluid and relentless.
Each step they took shattered glass beneath their feet, sending shards tinkling like a sinister melody.
He stood beside the woman, the mirror blade gleaming with a light that fought back the darkness.
His hands still burned where the roots beneath his skin pulsed, a fierce energy tethering him to the city's breath.
"Remember this," she said, voice steady despite the chaos.
"The fracture is not just a crack, it's a weapon."
The creatures surged forward.
He swung his hands, light cutting through them like a scythe through mist.
The roots pulsed, extending from his chest to his fingertips — weaving glowing strands that wrapped around enemies, immobilizing them before shattering their forms into dust.
One creature broke through the snare and lunged — a mass of shifting shadows with eyes like frozen fire.
It bit into his arm.
Pain exploded, sharp and cold.
He gritted his teeth, feeling the darkness trying to seep into him, to corrupt the fragile root network inside.
"No," he growled.
The seed inside flared, burning hotter than ever.
Light erupted from his wound, pushing the shadow back, sealing it like a wound healing in fast-forward.
The woman advanced, slicing through the remaining foes with ruthless precision.
She moved like fractured glass, every strike reflecting a thousand possibilities.
Her armor shimmered, revealing fleeting images — faces, places, memories — fractured reflections of the city's soul.
When the last creature dissolved into smoke, silence fell like a shroud.
He gasped for breath, chest heaving.
The woman wiped her blade clean, eyes sharp.
"You're stronger than you realize.
But this is only the beginning."
He looked down at his hands — now glowing faintly, roots twitching beneath the skin.
"What am I?"
"You are the fracture — the city's wound and its cure.
Without you, it will fall to rot and oblivion."
She turned, eyes meeting his with a strange softness.
"But the city's breath is not the only thing waiting for you."
A cold wind swept through the broken streets, carrying a whisper.
"Remember."
He knew — the real fight was just starting.
End of Chapter 7.