The battlefield trembled as the Harpy’s new form fully emerged from the crater. The black glow radiating from its feathers pulsed with unnatural energy, warping the air around it. The moment its blood-red eyes locked onto them, a suffocating pressure crashed down.
Then it moved.
Faster than before.
In one instant, it was in the crater. The next, it was directly in front of Sixtie, its talons descending with enough force to shatter mountains.
Sixtie barely had time to react. She twisted her fingers, and space bent.
CRACK!
The Harpy’s claw struck an invisible barrier, the air itself bending and distorting under the impact. But instead of breaking through, its talons began phasing through reality, slipping past Sixtie’s spatial defenses like they weren’t even there.
Her eyes widened. "Impossible—"
Trevor appeared in a blur of smoke, grabbing Sixtie and yanking her backward just as the Harpy’s strike connected with where she’d been. The sheer force of the impact tore through the atmosphere, carving a rift in space itself.
"Tch. It’s adapting to your powers," Trevor muttered, his fangs bared. "It’s not just getting stronger—it’s learning."
Sixtie grit her teeth. "That shouldn’t be possible. Space manipulation isn’t something that can just be... countered."
Emily wasn’t about to let it continue.
"Then we don’t give it time to learn more."
She raised her hand, and the earth answered.
A massive vine, thick as a building and covered in glowing golden thorns, erupted from the ground below, twisting toward the Harpy like a serpent. The sky above darkened as a rain of razor-sharp leaves—each one reinforced with cutting energy—descended upon the beast.
The Harpy shrieked.
A pulse of void-black energy erupted from its body, obliterating everything in a perfect sphere around it. The massive vine was reduced to ash in an instant. The razor leaves disintegrated midair. The ground beneath it vanished, leaving behind a swirling abyss of nothingness.
Emily’s pupils contracted. "What—"
Trevor’s eyes darkened. "It’s not just using power. That’s a full-fledged annihilation force."
The Harpy turned its attention toward them, its monstrous form radiating death.
And then, it spoke.
Not in words. Not in sound.
But in something deeper.
A whisper that slithered into their minds, cold and ancient.
"Come and break."
Trevor laughed. "I was hoping you’d say that."
His crimson aura exploded.
His wings flared wide, the intricate red markings on them pulsing as power flooded his veins. Smoke erupted from his body, curling and shifting unnaturally, taking on the shape of wraiths—faceless figures with hollow eyes and gaping mouths. His blood magic surged, wrapping around his fists in pulsing, living tendrils.
Emily and Sixtie moved in sync beside him.
Emily’s golden vines erupted again, but this time, their edges glowed with an emerald radiance, brimming with condensed vitality energy. The ground trembled, alive with her power.
Sixtie raised her hands, and the very fabric of space trembled. The battlefield around them stretched unnaturally, twisting into a kaleidoscope of warped distances. One moment, the Harpy was a hundred feet away. The next, it was only ten.
Trevor vanished.
A burst of smoke. A flicker of sound.
Then—
BOOOOOM!
His fist collided with the Harpy’s face, sending a shockwave through the sky.
The creature staggered back, screeching in fury.
Emily’s vines lashed forward, wrapping around its arms, anchoring it in place.
Sixtie clenched her fingers—reality snapped, locking the Harpy in a fragmented moment of time.
Trevor’s smirk turned feral. "Your turn, ladies."
Emily exhaled, her eyes glowing with deep green energy.
"Let’s see you handle this."
The sky split.
From above, a massive tree root—larger than a skyscraper, glowing with pure, golden vitality—descended like the hammer of a god.
The Harpy shrieked, struggling against the bindings.
Too late.
CRAAAAACK!
The impact shook the entire battlefield. Dust and debris exploded outward. The earth cratered beneath the force.
Silence.
Then, a single movement.
From beneath the crushed ruins of the tree root...
A silver glow flickered.
Trevor exhaled sharply. "Of course."
The rubble erupted.
The Harpy rose once more—its body shifting again.
Trevor grinned. "Now we’re talking."
...
The monstrous entity loomed over the battlefield, its shifting mass of abyssal tendrils pulsating with a hunger that defied comprehension. The violet glow of its countless eyes burned through the choking darkness, locking onto Jerry with something beyond mere hatred—recognition.
A deep, guttural growl reverberated through its form, vibrating across reality. Its very presence corrupted the space around it, warping the ruined cityscape into something… wrong.
It opened its maw—if the writhing, fanged void could be called such.
And then—
It screamed.
A soundless roar, a distortion of the world itself. The battlefield trembled, and in that instant, warriors from both sides *ceased to exist*. Their bodies didn’t fall. They didn’t burn. They simply… vanished, erased from reality by the sheer force of its presence.
Reginald snarled, his flames raging in defiance. "Tch. It’s more than just a beast—this thing is a damn calamity."
Jerry only chuckled, rolling his shoulders. His silver-red eyes gleamed with something raw, something primal.
"You say that like it’s a problem."
And then—he moved.
Faster than sight.
A blur of crimson and shadow, a flicker between moments. One second, he stood before Reginald, relaxed, amused. The next, he was above the beast, his form a streak of destruction cutting through the night.
His claws lashed out—five curved, silver razors glowing with a violent crimson hue.
SLASH!
A single strike.
The impact alone tore apart the air, creating a vacuum of silence before the world caught up—
BOOOOOM!
The beast reeled.
Not from pain. Not from injury.
But from something far more terrifying.
Shock.
Jerry grinned, his fangs gleaming. "You felt that, didn’t you?"
The entity let out another abyssal roar, its mass shifting, reforming, tendrils lashing out from every direction.
Hundreds of them.
Each one capable of annihilating a lesser being. Each one imbued with an existence-erasing force.
Jerry only laughed.
And then—he vanished.
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Reginald’s eyes widened. "Again—"
But Jerry wasn’t just moving.
He was everywhere.
For every tendril that lashed out, he was already there—shredding through them with ruthless precision. His silver tail flicked, slicing through the corruption as though it were mere mist. His claws tore through the abyssal flesh, sending ripples of unnatural energy screaming into the void.
With each strike, the beast shuddered.
For the first time in its cursed existence… it understood fear.
Jerry blurred back into view, perched atop the creature’s writhing form. His grin was gone, replaced by something colder.
"You’re not special," he murmured.
His silver-red eyes burned.
"You’re just another thing waiting to be hunted."
The beast shrieked, twisting, its entire form convulsing. Reality bent, space cracked, its very essence shifting into something incomprehensible—
And Jerry reached forward.
His claws sank in.
Not into flesh. Not into shadow.
Into something deeper.
The beast convulsed, its countless eyes rolling back.
Jerry’s voice was a whisper—one filled with absolute, undeniable authority.
"Submit."
A pulse erupted from his grasp.
Not of power.
Of domination.
The entity froze.
The battlefield, the city, the very world itself seemed to hold its breath.
Reginald watched, his flames flickering, his tails lashing. "What—"
And then—it was over.
The beast shuddered its monstrous form twisting, compacting, shrinking.
Its violet eyes dimmed.
Its endless void of a mouth closed.
And in its place—
A single figure knelt before Jerry.
No longer a writhing horror. No longer a force of annihilation.
Now—nothing more than a servant.
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Jerry exhaled, rolling his shoulders, his silver tail flicking lazily.
"Now that’s more like it."
Reginald stepped forward, his blue flames crackling with residual tension. "You tamed that thing?"
Jerry smirked. "Tamed? Nah."
His silver-red eyes gleamed.
"I own it."
Or so he thought.