Sunslope burned.
Not with flame—
with force.
Sand screamed beneath collapsing shockwaves, dunes folding and reforming as if the land itself were being struck and told to endure it anyway. Heat warped the horizon into broken layers, stubborn grass flattened and ripped from the ground, roots snapping under pressure that came from everywhere at once.
Rose moved first.
Sky-blue ice tore outward in a wide arc, freezing tendrils mid-strike, locking warped flesh into brittle stillness. The frost cracked and hissed against Solara's heat, buying only a heartbeat—
—and Sable was already there.
Her Virel blade carved through the frozen mass in a blinding sweep, metal singing as it burned. The cut didn't just sever—
it stunned.
The Hand shrieked.
Thane slammed forward, shield blazing as Solara energy detonated outward in a destabilizing pulse. The impact sent the abomination staggering, its weight crashing through sand and stone alike, trenches collapsing behind it.
Freeze.
Cut.
Break.
They moved as one.
The Hand reacted instantly.
Tendrils split, retracted, reformed—anticipating angles, correcting for timing, learning how the three of them struck together. Violet light flared in erratic bursts, blasting across Sunslope, carving molten scars through dunes and rock.
Rose skidded sideways, ice forming beneath her feet as a blast tore past where her head had been a moment before.
Another came—
She ducked.
Not fast enough.
The ground exploded behind her.
Sable caught her shoulder and yanked her clear as the Hand surged forward—
—and tore its own flesh away.
A limb ripped free, sizzling as it hit the sand, the stunned tissue discarded without hesitation. Regeneration crawled over the wound instantly, leaner, harder.
Sable's eyes narrowed.
It couldn't handle the blade's heat.
"Rose!" she shouted, already moving. "We need to halt its regeneration—catch!"
The sword spun.
Rose caught it mid-turn, frost racing along the hilt as she pivoted. Sable charged in at the same moment—
Rose struck.
A clean, decisive slice through newly forming stubs, the blade burning through resistance that would've shrugged off anything else. She hurled it back—
—and Sable followed through, leaping into a heavy overhead slash that tore into one of the Hand's necks, forcing it down into the sand with a shriek that rattled the air.
Then—
white.
No warning. No buildup.
Allium crossed Sunslope in a blink.
Not charging—
arriving.
Rose felt it before she saw it, the pressure slamming into her chest like gravity spiking sideways. She twisted hard, barely clearing the space where Allium's strike landed—
The impact detonated.
Sand fused. Air screamed.
Sable rolled clear, cloak smoking as another white blast tore past her shoulder. Thane threw his shield up instinctively—
—and was hurled backward anyway, skidding through scorched sand, armor screaming as he dug in to stop himself.
They weren't just dodging tendrils and violet fire.
They were dodging him.
Allium moved through the fight like weather—
unfocused, unstoppable, indifferent to who stood where. Every step cracked the land. Every swing erased space.
Rose slid beneath a tendril, came up hard—
—and froze as Allium passed through the space she'd just occupied, close enough that the heat peeled frost from her skin.
She didn't look at him.
Couldn't.
At the edge of Sunslope, the world was tearing.
Weaver stood at the largest distortion, the air around it sparking violently as white and violet pressure bled outward. The ground beneath his feet warped, color bending wrong as if the land itself were unsure what it was supposed to be.
Threads burst from his hands.
They didn't even slow it.
The distortion shoved them aside effortlessly, reality screaming as it resisted being held together.
Weaver swallowed.
Looked past it.
At the ley.
Nodes flickered beneath the surface—dim, unstable, bruised by old wounds that never fully healed.
"Perhaps," he whispered, voice tight, "with assistance from the planet… you may begin to heal."
Ultra-fine threads slipped free.
Barely visible.
He caught a smaller node, hands trembling as he flung it into the distortion—
The tear shrank.
Just a fraction.
Weaver exhaled sharply and moved again, threads flying, grabbing whatever he could reach—nodes, anchors, fragments of ley—each throw a desperate act of repair.
And then—
he felt it.
The ley trembled.
Something arrived.
A presence pressed gently against his mind, familiar and wrong in equal measure.
"Father…"
Weaver's blood ran cold.
He looked up.
Teal light spread through the ley like a slow infection, threads forming without being woven, holding reality in place with effortless calm.
Kyros.
Not in form.
In influence.
Weaver surged, threads blazing as he pushed back with everything he had. The ley screamed as pressure collided—
—and held.
Kyros's voice came softly, unbothered.
"Not this time. You are weaker. I have only grown."
Weaver snarled, veins standing out as he strained.
"This is not harmony!" he snapped. "This is chaos—your judgment is wrong!"
Kyros did not raise his voice.
"This is balance," he replied calmly. "The removal of pests. My Seraphim will thrive. No weakling requires protection. I will bring… harmony."
The ley lines burst.
Color drained from the land in rippling waves, grass paling, sand dulling as if something fundamental had been pulled away.
Deep within the Solara Tree—
something shifted.
Not anger.
Displeasure.
Back on Sunslope, Allium froze.
His head snapped toward the gardens.
"What's going on?" Thane shouted, watching him halt—
—and then Allium was gone.
The Hand lunged instantly.
A massive limb swept toward Thane—
Rose flashed beneath it, skidding on ice as she caught the blow with both arms, muscles screaming under the strain.
"Thane—focus!" she hissed.
Thane roared and brought his shield up in a brutal upward bash, detonating energy that hurled the Hand backward in a storm of sand and shattered flesh.
In the gardens—
Weaver looked up.
Allium stood before him.
White light burned around his feet, but beneath it—
red.
Solara red.
Allium's eyes locked on the ley.
He didn't speak.
He pushed.
Energy surged into the ley like a flood, raw and overwhelming. Kyros met it instantly, teal pressure slamming back—
They locked.
The world held its breath.
Then the Solara Tree flared.
Red light surged.
For a single, terrible heartbeat, Allium burned crimson—
and the teal was forced back.
Nodes reignited.
Color rushed back into the land.
And then—
Allium vanished.
Back to Sunslope.
As if obeying a directive rather than making a choice.
Weaver stared, stunned.
Then forced himself to move.
He turned back to the distortion, threads flying once more as he worked to seal what he could.
At Sunslope, Cassidy screamed.
The mark ignited.
The first vision hit her like a hammer.
Solara HQ in ruins.
Bodies everywhere.
Silence where life should be.
Another—
Different choices.
Same end.
Another—
Allium turning.
Weaver falling.
Everything burning.
Each vision tore through her, pressure crushing her chest, blood roaring in her ears. Nina was already moving, injecting a pain reducer, guiding her breathing as Jax watched the battlefield with clenched fists.
Then Allium reappeared.
The shockwave hit like a wall.
Thane planted himself and raised his shield just in time, blocking the blast from slamming into Jax, Nina, and Cassidy. The impact drove him to one knee, teeth grinding as he held.
Jax turned and saw Hawk standing frozen.
"Commander!" Jax shouted, grabbing him. "Get your head in the game—what are you doing?!"
Hawk blinked, dazed.
"The… protocol…"
Jax slapped him hard.
"This is Solara," Jax snapped. "Adapt or die. Get to Cassidy—now."
Hawk stumbled, then moved.
Cassidy convulsed.
Blood crept from the corner of her eye.
Nina caught her shoulders.
"Cassidy, stop," Nina pleaded. "You're going to die."
Cassidy gasped—and forced one more vision.
Her left eye burst.
She screamed and collapsed.
Hawk caught her just in time.
"Hey—hey—breathe!" he said desperately.
She couldn't.
Her breath came wet and broken.
Nina swore.
"She's ruptured a lung."
She moved instantly—tubing out, blood thinners ready. No hesitation. She cut, inserted the tube—
Blood spilled.
Slow.
Then fast.
"Slow breaths," Nina ordered. "Cassidy—slow."
Air finally moved.
Cassidy's eyes fluttered open.
Her left was ruined.
Her right barely focused.
"I… can't see…" she whispered.
They helped her up.
Shockwaves rolled through the silence.
Cassidy swallowed, pain wracking her body.
"I saw a way," she said hoarsely.
They waited.
"I know how to get Allium back."
The words hung there.
Heavy.
Unwelcome.
Necessary.