Solara did not scream.
It strained.
Heat bent the air above Sunslope until the horizon wavered like a mirage being crushed flat. Sand lifted without wind, grains rattling against one another as if the ground itself were trembling. Patches of stubborn grass flattened and burned, roots tearing loose as pressure pressed down from above rather than rising from below.
Thane's arm snapped out in front of Nina before his mind caught up.
White light burned across the basin.
Not flaring.
Not pulsing.
Pressing.
Allium Bell stood at the center of it.
Bare feet dug into sand that had fused into glass beneath him, cracked plates radiating outward in jagged rings. His body was drowned in white so dense it warped the air around his limbs, heat rippling outward in visible waves. Every breath sounded like thunder dragged through a chest that no longer cared about limits.
Thane swallowed.
His vision betrayed him.
A broken garden.
Rose flying backward through trees.
Weaver crumpling under a single hit.
Teeth scattering across sand.
His hand shook as he held Nina back.
"We've got a huge problem here," he said, voice low, tight.
Across the basin, the thing lifted its head.
The Hand of Kyros no longer resembled anything that had once been human. Flesh braided over itself in uneven layers, bone forcing its way outward only to retract and re-grow when it failed. Tendrils dragged through sand and scrub, carving deep, smoking furrows that glowed faint violet before sealing behind them.
It rippled.
Adjusted.
And then it whispered.
"…Nexon… Solara… Virel…"
Allium's head tilted.
For less than a heartbeat—
nothing.
Then the world broke.
The shockwave hit before the sound.
Sand detonated outward in a blinding wall, dunes collapsing as if punched flat by an invisible fist. Thane was thrown backward, skidding hard, armor screaming as he plowed through loose grit. Nina slammed down beside him, the breath torn violently from her lungs as the ridge partially collapsed beneath them.
At the center of it all, the Hand folded inward.
A hole burned straight through its mass —
a cavity so violently heated the air inside it glowed.
Allium stood on the far side.
He hadn't crossed the distance.
He had erased it.
The Hand convulsed. Regeneration surged immediately, flesh folding inward, re-knitting at impossible speed. Red mist poured from the wound, drifting low across Sunslope, catching Solara's light like embers carried on scorched wind.
The sound followed a heartbeat later.
A thunderclap rolled across the desert, collapsing dune faces and rattling stubborn grass from its roots.
The Hand twisted.
Its head snapped toward him.
Violet light erupted.
A beam thick as a tower lanced across the basin and struck Allium dead center.
The sand beneath him liquefied, then fused, glassing instantly as the impact carved a crater that bled molten light. Energy screamed outward, ripping trenches through dunes and flinging debris skyward in spiraling arcs.
Allium did not move.
The beam died against him like water against a cliff.
He stepped forward through the fading light.
The Hand reacted too late.
Tendrils lashed out in a storm, snapping through the air with bone-cracking force. Allium moved through them without rhythm, without pattern —
sidestepping one, letting another graze his shoulder and disintegrate on contact.
Sloppy.
Overwhelming.
Effective.
His fists came down like verdicts. Each strike erased entire sections of the Hand outright — flesh vaporized, bone shattered into dust, the desert floor collapsing inward under the sheer force of impact.
And still—
It adapted.
The regeneration shifted.
Longer. Leaner.
New anchoring limbs drove into sand and rock alike, stabilizing its mass, letting it move faster, harder.
The Hand grew sharper.
Allium grew brighter.
Nearby, Solara HQ groaned.
The garden convulsed.
Old distortions beneath the soil twisted violently, scars left behind by something long gone tearing open under the strain. Heat bent wrong. Space folded for half a second at a time — sand flowing uphill, grass stretching toward nothing before snapping back into place.
Weaver felt it like a blade driven behind his eyes.
The ley screamed.
He stopped mid-stride, threads trembling around his hands.
Not here.
Not again.
"Their fight is bending reality at weakened points," he said, already turning. "If this continues—"
He didn't finish.
"I'm heading to the garden," Weaver said, voice steady despite the tremor in his hands. "I don't know what I can do — but if I don't try, this place won't survive. Please… help him."
Then he was gone, sprinting into the storm.
The others pushed forward.
Cassidy staggered as her mark flared, heat and pressure tearing up her arm like a scream trapped under her skin. She clenched her teeth and forced herself onward.
Not now.
The battle escalated.
Allium unleashed a barrage that turned Sunslope into a collapsing field of dunes and burning air. The Hand reeled, massive portions obliterated — only to reform leaner, faster, learning how to survive longer against something it could not overpower.
Then—
movement.
Rose, Sable, Jax, Hawk, and Cassidy burst through the haze.
Thane turned, relief hitting him hard enough to hurt.
"Gods, am I happy to see you," he breathed. "This came out of nowhere. The settlers became this… thing."
Cassidy stared.
The Hand convulsed, Nexon light flinging outward in erratic arcs. A white flash detonated nearby, coating the sand in viscera that evaporated before it could settle.
The monster moved wrong —
jerking, snapping, grinding against its own limits.
Rose raised her hand.
Sky-blue ice roared outward, freezing tendrils mid-strike, locking sections of the Hand in crystalline restraints that hissed violently against Solara's heat.
It tore itself free.
Frozen flesh shattered. Regrew. Adjusted.
Sable was already moving.
Each approaching tendril met a clean cut — precise, efficient, relentless. Thane braced beside her, intercepting what slipped past, shield ringing with impact as Hawk and Jax held position behind them.
Rose froze.
They cut.
Again.
And again.
Rose watched Allium.
Watched how he moved.
How he didn't move like himself.
"Guys," she said sharply. "Allium could finish this — but he's not fighting like a warrior. His hits are powerful… but they're wrong."
Sable's eyes narrowed.
She saw it too.
"He walked past me earlier," Sable said. "Jax mentioned imbalance can trigger this. If this keeps up, HQ won't hold."
Jax acted.
A blast tore from his cannon and struck Allium square in the side.
The impact cracked like thunder.
Allium didn't turn.
Didn't slow.
"He's completely focused," Jax said grimly. He looked to Cassidy. "Could an amplified frequency help him regain control?"
Cassidy shook her head, eyes unfocused as her mark burned.
"No. If he even falters, he freezes. That thing would tear him apart."
She turned to Nina.
"I have to ask."
Nina's face was pale, ears ringing, hands shaking as she steadied herself. "Cassidy—what is it?"
Cassidy pulled her sleeve back.
The mark glowed.
"I need to use the vision. I can't see any outcome where Solara HQ survives without it."
Nina's jaw clenched. "That nearly killed you."
"I wasn't asking for permission," Cassidy snapped. "I need your help to stabilize me. I'm doing this."
Rose stepped forward.
"Cass—there's too much on the line. We have to think of something else. Maybe I can—"
"No!" Cassidy shouted. "I will not be sidelined! If this gives us a chance, I'm taking it. Again. I need support — not silence!"
Jax stepped in beside her.
"I don't want to lose you," he said quietly. Then, firmer: "But this is our best shot. Doctor — give her every chance."
Nina exhaled sharply, furious and terrified. "I'll keep you together as long as I can."
Rose nodded, jaw tight.
Sable checked her stance.
"I'll keep it busy," Rose said. "Sable?"
"I've got you."
Thane limped forward, shield raised.
"Three of us should be enough to buy time."
In the distance, the white and the flesh collided again — shockwaves ripping across the desert.
Rose charged.
Sable followed.
Thane surged with them.
Behind them, Cassidy braced.
Jax stood guard.
Hawk watched the storm grow.
And the desert held its breath.