The storm began the moment they reached the outer gates of the command district. Black clouds circled above the skyscrapers like vultures, flashing red veins of lightning through the sky. The wind howled with a strange, almost human wail. William walked beside Liora, his eyes taking in the steel fortress that now stood where the capital square used to be. Towers of metal bristling with turrets and drones, walls layered with magnetic shields, soldiers in exosuits moving in tight formations. The insignia etched on the outer walls read A.E.G.I.S — the Advanced Earth Guardian and Interdimensional Suppression Unit. He felt a shiver run down his spine. The world he’d once known was now built for war. Liora motioned him forward as the biometric gates scanned them both. “The AEGIS Initiative was formed after the rift wars began,” she explained, her tone clipped and steady. “We’ve kept humanity alive, but the rifts are multiplying faster than we can close them.” William’s eyes flickered

The skies above Aerth burned red. Not from sunset—there hadn’t been a true sunset in weeks—but from the smoldering ashes that filled the horizon after the siege of Elarin Valley. What was once a lush paradise now lay in ruins, devoured by fire and tainted mana. The air carried a taste of iron, a smell of corpses, and the quiet sobs of those who had survived. William stood at the center of the destruction, his face stained with soot, his expression unreadable. Around him, his allies—Liora, Garron, and the half-demon twins, Ren and Sera—gathered with exhaustion written across their faces. “Another city… gone,” Liora murmured, clutching the bloodstained hilt of her blade. “We drove them out, but what’s left to save?” William didn’t answer immediately. His gaze was fixed on the scorched earth where demon bodies twitched and disintegrated into black mist, leaving behind crimson sparks that drifted into the wind. “They wanted this,” he finally said, voice cold. “They wanted us to lose

Flames tore through the void like rivers of molten wrath, spilling from the horizon of Hell’s Border. The world around William and his team was a battlefield of chaos—volcanoes breathing fire, skies churning with storms of ash and bone. The very air trembled with hatred, thick and heavy, as if the dimension itself rejected their existence. The colossal shadow that had risen from the inferno took full form. It was not a single creature—but two. Twin behemoths of molten rock and black steel—guardians forged from the gate’s living essence. Their bodies burned with ancient sigils, their eyes pits of molten gold. Each movement they made cracked the air, and their voices boomed like thunder. “The living dare cross into the forbidden border.” “Their souls shall be our feast.” The demons’ voices overlapped, vibrating the void. William stood at the front, his tattered coat billowing under the immense pressure. Behind him, Liora, Ren, Garron, and Sera stood ready—each trembling under the

The once-white frostlands faded behind them as Rowan and his team journeyed south, entering a land where the sun burned without mercy. The snow turned to sand, and the biting cold was replaced by a heat so intense it felt alive. The Blighted Wastes—a vast desert tainted by demonic corruption—stretched endlessly before them, the horizon warped by mirages and shimmering heatwaves. Rowan lifted his arm to shield his eyes as wind carried dust across the dunes. The air here was wrong. It shimmered faintly, not just from the heat, but from something else—an unseen distortion that tugged at the edges of reality. “This place…” Mira muttered, squinting. “It’s like walking through a dream that wants to eat you.” Blaze padded beside Rowan, his flames dimmed to small flickers to avoid drawing attention. “It’s demonic energy,” Rowan said quietly. “It bends perception. Don’t trust your eyes.” Kain let out a groan, adjusting the cloth around his mouth. “Then what do we trust, boss? ’Cause I’

The night was silent—too silent. The dunes glimmered faintly under the twin moons, but the peace that followed the battle felt hollow, as though the desert itself was holding its breath. Rowan and his companions had set up camp beside the purified oasis. The water now reflected the stars like a flawless mirror, calm and pure, yet something about it still unsettled him. He sat apart from the others, sharpening his blade with slow, precise strokes. Each scrape of steel against whetstone echoed softly in the cool air. His expression was still and unreadable, but his eyes carried a storm. Blaze, in his smaller form, rested by his feet, his fiery tail flickering dimly. Lysandra approached quietly, her staff glowing faintly with a soft blue hue. “You haven’t rested since the battle,” she said. Rowan didn’t look up. “I can’t. The Warden’s words keep replaying in my head.” > “The abyss never dies… it only waits.” Lysandra sat beside him, her gaze following the line of his sword. “You t