The Anomaly's Path

”Soul Dominion...” Zephyr whispered.

”Realm of the Sovereign Sky.”

The world did not shatter... it simply yielded. A silent ring of silver light spread outward, turning thirty yards of space into Zephyr’s personal ground. Inside this space, the rules of force and movement stopped working normally.

The decay beam hung still like a frozen wave. The monster’s needle-spears sat motionless, stripped of all power.

For Morgana and Damon, the change was shocking. The crushing weight that had been pressing them into the ground vanished, but what replaced it was worse. Inside their minds, a silent truth took hold, they were breathing air only because the man in front of them allowed it.

They didn’t dare speak. To speak would be to break the delicate, terrifying balance of a Sovereign’s power.

Morgana just stared at Zephyr’s back, her bloodshot eyes reflecting the pale silver glow of his presence, while Damon pressed his forehead against the ground, his breath catching as his power felt the total stillness of the earth beneath them.

The Gate Boss didn’t have a human mind, but its core pulsed with panicked fear. Its power had been cut off. Its control over decay was dead.

Then, the horror began.

Realizing its trapped limbs were useless, the creature broke its own body apart. With wet, sickening sounds, it snapped its own joints, tearing off its frozen arms. Black, boiling fluid gushed from its torn flesh, eating holes into the rock below.

The huge mouth along its chest tore open, ripping through its stomach down to its hips. From the bleeding hole inside, smaller, half-formed creatures, pale, writhing things that weren’t fully grown — began crawling out over its body, screeching in high, piercing wails.

The Gate Boss didn’t protect them.

In a desperate will to survive, it reached down with its main jaws and began eating its own young. It crushed through their soft skulls and swallowed their raw cores whole, feeding on their unrefined power to force a violent, twisted change.

Its body twisted into a nightmare of exposed muscle, dozens of twitching eyes, and blade-like ribs. From the wet tear in its chest, it forced open a dark-purple sphere of raw decay.

It couldn’t break Zephyr’s domain, so it dragged its changing body forward, digging its broken limbs into the ground, carving a bloody path through the silver void out of pure panic to kill the one who was about to kill it.

The clash of their wills sounded like thick metal being crushed under extreme pressure.

The decay bit into the edge of Zephyr’s space, tearing through the silver light. Zephyr took the force of that violent clash directly into his body. A sharp tear opened along his left shoulder as a piece of decay cut through his coat, carving a deep cut into his flesh.

Blood spurted out, hissing as it hit the ground.

A second later, the monster’s tail, lined with jagged bone hooks, lashed sideways through the clash.

Zephyr brought his sword up to block, but the raw, desperate weight of the mutating mass smashed through his guard. The force drove him back five steps, his boots digging deep into the ground. A trickle of dark blood ran from the corner of his mouth.

It’s fighting like a cornered animal, Zephyr thought, his focus sharpening. This bastard has some nasty survival instinct.

The beast lunged again, crawling on its belly like a huge, skinless creature, its jaw-covered limbs snapping at his legs while its central red eye fired a sharp, point-blank needle of decay straight at his chest.

Zephyr didn’t flinch.

Pain was just feedback, a sign of where the enemy’s will was concentrated. He shifted his footing, sinking low as he channeled his dense Aether through his core.

Celestial Style: First Form — Heavenly Anchor.

Zephyr’s weight doubled instantly, locking him to the ground. He tilted his sword at a sharp angle, deflecting the decay needle off the black steel. The deflected beam blasted into the cliff behind him, instantly turning a chunk of rock into fine, floating dust.

Before the creature could pull back, Zephyr stepped directly inside the reach of its snapping jaws. The friction of the monster’s aura ripped across his skin, opening small, bleeding cuts along his neck and arms, but his hand stayed steady.

Celestial Style: Fourth Form — Void Piercer.

He didn’t swing with wide, flashy movements. It was a single, straight downward strike, a strike forged through years of surviving endless slaughter.

The blade cut through the decay, split the mass of writhing rib-blades, and buried itself deep into the monster’s pulsing chest. The silver light of his domain flooded down the steel, acting as a channel of pure, unyielding Will.

The energy hit the beast’s insides like liquid fire, melting its organs and shattering its inside.

The Gate Boss let out a muffled, choked scream, dark purple sludge pouring from its eyes and mouth. Yet even as its insides turned to mush, it refused to die. Driven by a wild, frantic fear of death, the creature threw away every shred of instinct and fought purely to draw its next breath.

With a sickening, wet tear, the creature dragged its broken, steaming body across the ground, its remaining pale fingers digging deep into the dirt. Black, boiling blood gushed from its gaping chest, pooling beneath it as it lunged forward in a clumsy, desperate surge.

”L-Live...” a wet, broken sound rumbled from deep inside its open mouth, its voice straining to form words through mouthfuls of hot fluid. ”N-Not... die... Food... must... live...”

It spat out a wild, messy spray of burning fluid, not even aiming, just trying to melt everything in front of it to clear a path. Its pale, extra limbs clawed wildly at Zephyr’s legs, dragging its crushed back half through its own dark blood just to close the gap.

Zephyr didn’t step back. He dug his heels into the ground, bracing his weight against the incoming mass.

In a final, desperate attempt to take Zephyr down with it, the monster’s outer rib-blades snapped shut like a trap, locking around Zephyr’s body and dragging him straight toward its gaping, acid-filled chest mouth.

The burning fluid splashed against Zephyr’s coat, eating through the fabric and scorching his skin, burning his flesh down to the raw muscle, but his face stayed cold.

”Persistent bastard,” Zephyr muttered under his breath, his eyes burning with cold disgust.

He let go of his sword with his left hand, formed a tight fist, and channeled every drop of remaining domain pressure straight into his knuckles. He didn’t just throw a punch, he compressed the silver power of his Soul Dominion into a tiny point over his skin, forcing the raw force of his Will to override the creature’s physical body.

Sovereign Impact.

He slammed his bare, Aether-coated fist straight into the center of the monster’s red eye. The force of the strike exploded inside the creature’s skull, sending a shockwave through its whole body. The impact echoed like a cannon shot.

The giant eye burst, spraying thick, grey fluid and bone fragments across the ground.

The shockwave traveled down its neck, snapping its inner bones one by one. Yet even with its skull caved in, the beast’s body twitched violently, its rib-blades locking tighter in a final spasm as its ruined chest mouth kept snapping uselessly against Zephyr’s coat.

Zephyr twisted his sword inside its chest, unleashing a final wave of Aether directly into its heart, cutting off its connection to the rift for good. The bone ribs trapping Zephyr cracked and lost their strength, falling uselessly to the ground.

Zephyr pulled his sword out with a sharp, metallic sound, stepping back as the creature’s decay field collapsed into nothing.

The monster gave one last, weak, shuddering breath, its pale fingers scratching useless lines into the ground as a dying gurgle faded from its throat. Then its whole body turned to brittle grey ash, crumbling into a massive pile across the ridge.

Zephyr sheathed his broadsword in one smooth motion.

The domain vanished, and air rushed back into the empty space with a loud thunderclap that echoed across the valley. The bleeding tear in the sky groaned, its dark purple edges pulling together until the rift snapped shut with a dull, wet sound.

With the gate closed, the thick purple fog that had covered the ridge began to break apart. Driven by the night wind, the dense mist thinned out into harmless wisps before vanishing into the twilight sky, leaving behind only the cold smell of burnt air and ash.

Zephyr turned around to face the two stunned fighters.

He looked at Morgana and Damon, his eyes cold and calm, completely unbothered by the blood dripping down his arm. A dry, quiet chuckle escaped his throat, a raspy, amused huff at the sight of two high-ranking warriors trembling like frightened novices.

”Get up,” Zephyr said, his voice flat, cutting through the silence. ”The gate is gone. The fog is dead. Stop lying in your own blood and get back to the safe zone. Besides... remember what you saw today. You have to reach that level one day. Or even surpass it.”

He didn’t wait for them to answer. He turned his back, stepping over the pile of grey ash that used to be the Gate Boss, and walked off into the quiet woods without looking back.

Morgana stayed on her knees, her lungs burning as she breathed in the clean, fresh air. She stared at the black stain where the monster had crumbled. Her mind raced, a cold, heavy knot twisting in her stomach.

She looked back toward the high ridge in the distance, where the relay tower stood silent and dark. She knew who had been up there.

She knew Vance, that stubborn, awkward idiot of a researcher, had gone to the relay tower to keep the barrier from collapsing. She had spent so long pushing him away, calling him a useless pencil-pusher to protect herself from losing another person she cared about.

A quiet, desperate fear took root in her heart.

She didn’t know if he was alive, dead, or broken. She pushed herself up from the ground, her shaking legs locking into place as she glanced at Damon.

”We’re going back to the plaza...” Morgana rasped, her voice trembling with grief and fierce resolve.

_

Meanwhile, at the Central Plaza of Aegis Academy...

The safe zone was an organized chaos.

Healers rushed back and forth with bloodied hands, and the air was thick with the smell of burnt air, blood, and damp ground. Barrier lights hummed softly around the edges, keeping the remaining monsters away while guards secured the outer walls.

Sylvia stood near the command table, her long black hair tied back, her ocean-blue eyes sharp and tired. Beside her, Elian stood, his face pale as he looked over the reports.

Suddenly, the space in the center of the plaza cracked open.

The surviving group spilled out of the tear together, a bleeding, battered mess of students leaning on each other just to stay upright.

Roan limped badly, his left arm tied to his chest, while Nyra and Amelia held up a pale, unconscious girl between them. Two other beat-up students stumbled out right behind them, dragging another passed-out students across the ground.

Then came Seris.

The crowd of waiting students and healers went quiet. Seris dragged herself through the tear, her left arm hanging useless, dark blood caked under her nose and across her chin. Hooked over her right shoulder was Leo, unconscious, pale as paper, his breathing shallow and uneven.

”Leo!” Sylvia’s voice cracked through the plaza.

She crossed the distance in seconds, reaching out to take Leo’s weight before Seris collapsed. Sylvia’s hands shook as she checked his pulse, her usual sharp composure breaking into fear.

”He’s alive,” Seris said, her voice a hollow, raspy whisper. ”His channels... are wrecked... but he’s breathing.”

Two healers rushed forward with a stretcher, trying to guide Seris toward the side area. ”Miss, you need treatment, your arm is broken and your channels are badly damaged—”

”Help him first,” Seris snapped, her right hand gripping the edge of Leo’s stretcher so hard her knuckles turned white. Her eyes held a cold, hard stare that made the healer freeze. ”Heal him. I can wait.”

”Seris, sit down,” Sylvia ordered, her voice tight with a mixture of anger and deep gratitude as she laid a hand on the girl’s shoulder. ”He’ll be safe. Let them do their work.”

Seris stared at Leo’s pale face for a long moment before her knees finally gave out. Sylvia caught her before she hit the ground, signaling the healers to take her too. As the healers wheeled Leo away, Elian walked up to Sylvia, his face serious.

”Communications are coming back up slowly,” Elian said quietly, looking at the chaos around them. ”The eastern district is clear, and it seems like reinforcements from the Union are coming. Beside... that portal gave off a familiar aura. It seems like Headmaster Vega was the one who brought them through.”

Sylvia didn’t answer right away. She looked down at her hands, still stained with her brother’s blood. She took a sharp breath, forcing herself to focus on the chaos in front of them. ”What do we need to do now?”

”We’re setting up a defense line around the area and clearing out the remaining monsters,” Elian said. ”The healers are overwhelmed, but we’re helping who we can.”

Sylvia wiped her bloody hands on a cloth, her sharp eyes fixed on Elian. ”Then get a squad moving. Tell them to head into the lower district and search for Marius. Take Cordelia with them.”

Elian nodded. ”Alright.”

”Where is Cordelia?” Sylvia asked, her eyes scanning the crowd.

Elian pointed toward the far side of the plaza, where the shelters were set up. ”She was at the shelter earlier. I told her to wait until my squad was ready to—”

Elian stopped mid-sentence. He squinted at the empty corner near the shelters where she was supposed to be, his eyes widening.

”...Wait. Where did she go?”