The transport rolled through the gates of New New York as the sun began to rise.
Aurelion sat in the back, the sword across his knees, his body aching, his mind heavy. The ichor had dried on his skin, flaking off in dark scales. His clothes were torn, stained with blood that wasn't his own. His knuckles were raw, his arms trembling with the aftermath of the battle.
Vance sat across from him, her face tired but calm. The other soldiers were quiet, their eyes hollow, their weapons still ready.
"You did good today," Vance said again. "Better than good."
Aurelion didn't answer.
"I've seen a lot of fighters," she continued. "Hunters, soldiers, specialists. But I've never seen anyone move like you. It's like you knew what they were going to do before they did."
He looked at her. "Experience."
"Experience," she repeated. "That's one word for it."
She didn't ask more.
The debriefing was held in the same cold, functional room as before.
Commander Reyes sat at the head of the table, her tablet in front of her, her expression unreadable. Vance and her squad stood along the walls, their faces tired, their uniforms still stained.
Aurelion sat across from Reyes, the sword resting against the table.
"Report," Reyes said.
Vance spoke first. "We arrived at Outpost Seven at approximately 1400 hours. The garrison was under heavy assault—demons on all sides, walls breached in three places. We engaged the enemy forces and drove them back. Specialist Kade was instrumental in the defense."
Reyes turned to Aurelion. "Instrumental how?"
Vance glanced at him. "He killed more demons than the rest of the squad combined. He moved like he'd been doing it his whole life."
Reyes's eyes narrowed. "Is that true?"
Aurelion met her gaze. "I did what was needed."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only one I have."
She studied him for a long moment. Then she nodded slowly.
"The outpost is secure?"
"For now," Vance said. "But they're low on supplies. They need reinforcements, ammunition, medical support."
"I'll see what I can do." Reyes made a note on her tablet. "You're dismissed."
Vance and her squad filed out. Aurelion stayed.
Reyes looked up. "Something else?"
"The Demon King," he said. "He knows I'm here. Vorthar knows I'm here. They're going to keep coming."
"You said that before."
"I'm saying it again. They're not going to stop."
Reyes studied him for a long moment. Then she nodded slowly.
"Then we'll be ready."
The radio crackled to life.
A sharp burst of static cut through the silence of the debriefing room. Reyes glanced at the receiver, frowning.
Then a voice came through—cold, flat, familiar.
"Commander Reyes."
Vorthar.
The room went still. Reyes's hand froze over the tablet. Her face went pale.
"I trust you're listening."
Reyes didn't answer. She couldn't.
"Your little stronghold is impressive," Vorthar continued. "Walls. Turrets. Soldiers. But they won't save you. Nothing will save you."
The silence stretched. The officers in the room exchanged glances, their faces pale.
"I've seen your defenses. I've studied your patrols. I know your weaknesses." A pause. "And I've decided to let you keep them."
Reyes's eyes narrowed. "What?"
"A gift. A warning. I want you to understand exactly what you're facing. I want you to feel the weight of what's coming."
The screams began—faint, distant, echoing through the speaker like ghosts. The sounds of death, of terror, of the end of everything.
"Outpost Seven was just the beginning. Your other outposts are already falling. Your supply lines are already cut. Your forces are already scattered." Vorthar's voice was almost gentle. "This is the end, Commander. The end of your stronghold. The end of your resistance. The end of everything you've built."
The screams faded. The radio went dead.
Silence.
Reyes stared at the radio, her face pale. The officers in the room exchanged glances, their eyes wide.
Aurelion stood, the sword in his hand.
"He's telling the truth," he said. "Outpost Seven was just the beginning. He's going to tear everything down, piece by piece."
Reyes turned to him. "How do you know?"
"Because I've seen him do it before." He met her eyes. "He doesn't bluff. He doesn't make empty threats. If he says he's going to destroy this stronghold, he means it."
Reyes was silent for a moment. Then: "What do we do?"
"We fight." He touched his chest, feeling the shards inside him. "We fight, and we don't stop until he's dead."
Reyes looked at him for a long moment. Then she nodded slowly.
"Get some rest," she said. "All of you. I need time to think. To figure out what we're going to do."
Aurelion opened his mouth to argue.
"That's an order, Kade." Her voice was tired. "You've been fighting for two days. You need rest. We all do."
He closed his mouth and nodded.
Aurelion walked through the corridors of the command center, the sword in his hand, his mind heavy. Vance and her squad followed behind him, their footsteps echoing in the silence.
He was almost at the exit when a crowd of soldiers pushed past him—three, maybe four of them—their faces pale, their eyes wide. They were moving fast, their boots pounding against the floor.
One of them bumped into his shoulder, hard enough to send him stumbling. He caught himself, turning to watch them disappear into Reyes's office.
"What's the rush?" Vance muttered.
Aurelion didn't answer.
He moved closer to the door, his footsteps silent. The door was still open, just a crack. He could hear the soldiers' voices—breathless, urgent.
"Commander, we have reports from the eastern sector. Supply lines are dropping. Convoys are being hit. We've lost contact with three outposts in the last two hours."
"Three?" Reyes's voice was sharp. "Which ones?"
"Outpost Eleven, Outpost Fourteen, and Outpost—" The soldier paused. "Outpost Eight."
Silence.
Then Reyes's voice, barely above a whisper. "Outpost Eight was the main supply depot. If it's gone—"
"It's gone, Commander. We've confirmed. No survivors."
Aurelion heard something break inside the office—glass, maybe, or ceramic. A sound of something shattering against the floor.
Reyes's voice came through, ragged. "Get out. All of you. Get out and let me think."
"But Commander—"
"I said get out!"
The soldiers filed out, their faces pale, their eyes downcast. They didn't look at Aurelion as they passed.
The door to Reyes's office closed behind them.
Aurelion heard her voice through the door, quieter now, barely audible. A sound that might have been a breath. Or a sob.
Then she spoke again, her voice flat, controlled.
"I'll organize a meeting in the morning. We'll figure out what to do." A pause. "All of you. Out. Now."
Aurelion turned and walked away, his mind heavy, his heart pounding.
She's scared, he thought. She's scared and she's trying to hide it.
And she's right to be scared.
Vorthar is coming.