The camp came alive with focused movement and quiet tension. Nestled behind the collapsed warehouse where their truck was parked, the team had chosen a defensive clearing surrounded by remnants of reinforced concrete, rusted beams, and broken transport shells. A dim orange glow hung in the air, cast from makeshift lanterns powered by old cells Luke-Man recharged earlier. The evening fog swirled low over the ground like a crawling presence.
Tents were being pitched while crates of supplies were stacked into a central inventory zone. Betty stood near the center, eyes closed, hands pressed to the earth. The ground trembled softly, and slowly, a low wall of compacted soil and stone emerged in a semi-circle around their position.
"That's amazing," Ryland said, stepping up beside her. "This'll stop more than wind."
She smiled, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Let's see them try and mess with my cooking setup now."
Michael Lambda hammered the last tent spike into the ground with one hand, his massive pickaxe Battlemonger slung over his back. "No one's messing with anything under my watch."
Alan observed silently from atop a pile of rubble, arms crossed, shadow draped over him like a second skin. His eyes never stopped scanning the tree line.
As the final touches were made, Wilson and O'kuyo returned from a brief perimeter sweep. Ash was already setting up a compact field stove near the truck, loading bullets into a rifle between each flick of the ignition switch.
Just as Betty finished setting up her cooking station, a faint crack echoed through the air. Then a hiss.
Smoke.
Luke-Man spun around. "Supplies! Our food supplies on fire!"
The team dashed toward the smoke, just in time to see shadowy figures vaulting over their earth wall. The dry rations and ammo boxes were already half-engulfed in fire.
"Cowards!" Michael growled.
Then, a figure stepped up onto the edge of the stone wall—a tall rogue in a deep, ash-colored cloak. A steel mask covered his lower face, and he bore a curved blade shimmering with symbols.
"We are The Hollow Veil," he said, voice echoing unnaturally. "You trespass on cursed ground. Leave the beasts be. Their return is necessary for—"
SHLIK.
A blade erupted from his throat. Alan stood behind him, emerging from the man's own shadow, voice low and deadly.
"I hate it when people disrespect food."
The body slumped forward into the dirt. The other saboteurs stopped in their tracks. Then, with furious roars, they surged back toward the camp.
"Twelve of them," Michael said, eyes blazing.
"Let's finish this," Alan growled.
The battlefield exploded into motion.
Michael launched forward first, spinning his pickaxe like a typhoon. Dirt and bodies flew as he cleared a swath through three attackers. One rogue lunged with dual blades, but Michael slammed him with a shoulder charge that crumpled armor.
Wilson stepped into the fray, arms glowing with silvery Mercurial metal. The fluid hardened into gauntlets that extended into brutal spikes. He clashed with two cultists at once, parrying their attacks and impaling one through the stomach with a whip of liquified iron.
Betty stood firm behind the wall, arms raised, manipulating the terrain beneath an enemy's feet. A chunk of the ground surged upward, hurling a rogue into the air where Luke-Man roasted him mid-flight with a jet of flame from his palm.
"Nice timing!" Betty called.
Luke-Man grinned. "Always the chef's assistant."
A masked figure tried to flank from the left, but was ambushed by O'kuyo, who leapt from the shadows and pressed a glowing hand against a rusted pipe. The metal hissed, and in a split-second it became razor-sharp—he spun it in his grip like a dagger and slashed across the attacker's chest.
Ash, staying low behind overturned crates, opened fire with surgical precision. One shot shattered an enemy's blade, the next took out a knee. "Don't touch my truck!" he barked, shielding it like a loyal dog.
Ryland extended his arm. "White Boy, Razor, now!"
The albino vampire bat screeched from the canopy and dove into the chaos, striking two rogues with its claw as Razor, the mantis, blinked into view on Ryland's shoulder and sliced forward with relentless speed.
Then came Rey Draco.
The ground trembled as the massive Komodo summon burst from thin air. Its claws tore through armor, its venomous breath scattering two enemies. One cultist tried to run—Rey Draco pounced and pinned them with bone-crushing weight.
When the dust settled, only one cultist still crawled away. Alan appeared beside him, crouching low.
"Who sent you?"
The man trembled. "You… you don't understand… the Hollow Veil was here long before you. You'll only make things worse…"
Alan leaned closer. "Then we'll drag the worst out and bury it."
He let the man faint from fear.
As calm returned, Betty moved quickly to salvage what supplies she could. Ryland patted Razor, whose limbs clicked softly in response.
Wilson crossed his arms. "Now we know. This isn't just about monsters anymore."
Michael nodded grimly. "Someone else is playing god in Aulia."
Alan looked toward the trees, where fog still hung heavy.
"Let them come," he said. "We will never back down."