Chapter 143: The Battle
Inigo tightened his grip on the foregrip of his rifle. "All teams, weapons check. Watch for tremors."
"Motion sensors set," Sark said, hammering in the last of the thermal pegs. "If anything so much as sneezes underground, we’ll know."
Lyra was already perched atop a high bluff, her bow strung and a fresh batch of alchemical arrows beside her. "Visual clear. But the trees aren’t rustling. Not even wind. Something’s holding its breath."
Feron’s voice crackled in over comms. "Leylines just dipped again. They’re shifting. Something’s coming."
As if on cue, the east sensor gave a shrill ping. Then another to the west. Then all of them.
"Contact!" Hal shouted.
The ground to the northeast ruptured first. A spray of soil and molten debris shot skyward as a monster the size of a bison erupted—this one sleeker, almost armored in obsidian plates with glowing red slits where its eyes should be.
"New variant!" Brenna called out. "Speed build!"
"Open fire!" Inigo roared.
The M240 on JLTV One chattered to life, stitching the beast with heavy fire. Lyra launched a frost-tipped arrow that struck the thing’s shoulder, sending a shockwave of ice down its leg. It staggered—but kept coming.
Another burst of earth thirty meters from their left. Two more emerged—one lumbering with massive forelimbs like a tunneling mole, the other spindly and fast.
Sark gritted his teeth and pulled the trigger on the second machine gun, spraying suppressive fire toward the mole-like variant. "These aren’t just random mutations—they’re roles. They’re coordinated!"