The sky above the Ghostfront had no color at all. It was not black, and it was not white. It was something in between, something empty and tired, like a canvas that had been scrubbed too many times. The clouds did not move the way clouds should. They stretched and thinned, slow and weak, as if they were unsure whether they were allowed to exist.The ground beneath the Stormguard shifted with every step. Stone cracked, then softened into ash, then hardened again without warning. Old roads appeared and vanished under their boots. Broken buildings flickered in and out of view like memories that could not decide if they were real.Sound felt wrong here. Footsteps echoed twice, once normal and once delayed. Voices sometimes came back softer, and sometimes came back louder, twisted and bent, as if the land itself tried to repeat words but failed to understand them.Lyn walked at the front of the formation. She held her weapon low but ready, her fingers tight around the grip. Her armor of

The ruins of Voss Citadel breathed like a wounded animal. Cold wind moved through broken stone halls, carrying whispers that did not belong to the living. The walls were tall but cracked, carved long ago with symbols of protection that no longer worked. Pieces of the ceiling lay scattered across the ground like bones. Faint blue light leaked in through shattered arches, mixing with fog that crept along the floor like something alive.The Stormguard hid inside. They did not rest. They waited. Some sat with their backs against stone pillars, heads bowed, hands shaking. Others paced in small circles, unable to stay still. The wounded lay on makeshift stretchers, their armor torn, their eyes unfocused. Every sound echoed too loudly. Every shadow looked like it might move.Lyn stood near the center of the Citadel, staring at the cracked floor. Her armor was scratched and stained. Her hands trembled, even though she tried to keep them still. A third of her unit was gone. Not lost. Gone.

The silence after the battle felt wrong. It was not the calm of safety. It was the quiet that comes when the world is holding its breath, waiting to see who will fall next.The ruins of Voss Citadel were broken even further now. Towers leaned at new angles. Walls had collapsed into piles of stone and ash. The ground was stained dark where blood had soaked into cracks that would never close again.The Stormguard who still lived stood scattered across the courtyard. Some leaned on weapons just to stay upright.Some knelt beside the bodies of friends and did not move at all. No one spoke. Even crying felt too heavy.Lyn stood alone near the center of the ruins. Her hands shook. Her weapon hung useless at her side.Rhea’s face stayed burned into her mind. The smile. The relief. The moment before the strike. Lyn could still feel the weight of that choice in her chest, pressing harder with every breath. “I did what I had to,” she whispered.The air did not answer. Then something stirred.

Lyn woke slowly. At first, she thought she was still dreaming. The world felt soft, like it was wrapped in fog. Sound came late. Touch came in pieces. Her body felt heavy, but at the same time it felt light, as if part of her wanted to rise and drift away.She lay on stone that was cold and cracked. The air smelled of ash and old rain. Above her, the sky was pale and empty, drained of color as if someone had washed it too many times.Her chest rose. Her chest fell. Each breath shimmered faintly, leaving a thin trail of light that vanished a second later. Her eyes opened.The Citadel ruins stood around her like broken teeth. Walls were split in half. Towers leaned at strange angles. Flags lay torn and burned on the ground. Smoke curled from distant fires, moving slow and tired.People stood in a wide circle around her. Stormguard. What was left of them. Some were wounded. Some leaned on broken weapons. Some stared at her with open fear, not trying to hide it. No one spoke. Lyn pushed

Lyn felt her boot fall through the highway like it was mist. Gravity twisted sideways. The sound of gunfire stretched, then snapped off. Color drained from the world, replaced by hard white glow and deep shadow.They were no longer standing in the valley. They were standing inside death.The spectral plane locked into place around them. Buildings appeared as hollow frames. Burned vehicles floated inches above the ground, frozen mid-crash. The sky was a flat sheet of pale light with no sun.Stormguard soldiers shouted as their feet slid across nothing. Some dropped to one knee. Others vomited inside their helmets.Reyes grabbed a soldier before he drifted too far. “Anchor yourselves!” he shouted. “Touch something solid!”Lyn stood still. Her boots rested on nothing, yet she did not fall. The Halo energy held her in place like unseen ground.The Specter King towered ahead of them, fully formed now. Its body burned brighter in the spectral plane, lines of light cutting through its frame