The steeper ground did not slow the pursuit.By the second night after the pass, the five of them had pushed into a region of fractured ridges and deep ravines where even the old maps grew vague. Black stone gave way to layered slate that crumbled under careless steps. Wind moved through the narrow cuts like a living thing, carrying the scent of distant rain and colder air from the higher peaks.They moved in silence for most of the day. The partial bond stayed tight. No one asked for rest.Near dusk the second net arrived.It was larger.Twenty-two signatures. Three SS-ranks. The rest high S and elite A-rank specialists. They did not drop from ridges this time. They rose from the ground itself—containment teams that had been waiting under layered earth-masking arrays for nearly a full day.The moment the arrays dropped, the air turned heavy with suppression.Raizu’s voice was flat. “They planned this one.”Killy’s fire was already forming. “Good. I’m tired of light work.”Kordil’s gr

They did not get far.The seven points of clean white light on the southern horizon did not stay distant. Within the hour they began moving — not flying, not walking, simply relocating across the sky in perfect, silent intervals. Each time one shifted, the metallic taste in the air thickened.Raizu kept count under his breath. “Still seven. Closing.”Killy’s fire stayed low but constant around her wrists. “They’re not rushing. They’re herding.”Kordil’s earlier hunger had sharpened into something colder. “Good. Let them come closer.”Miko felt the residual weight inside the bond pulse in rhythm with every relocation of the lights. Jusmiyo walked with controlled steps, face pale, nosebleed already wiped away twice. The lag had not returned to its previous baseline. It sat heavier now, like a second heartbeat trying to overwrite the first.“We don’t run,” Miko said. “We choose the ground.”They found it in a wide, shallow crater of the oldest stone — a natural amphitheater where the fad