All the Shinkari stood still, cloaks stirring in the heated wind, their gazes fixed on him. Each one wondered the same unspoken question: What is he planning?
From the ruins beyond, the city answered with noise. Gunfire cracked in every direction, sharp and relentless. But the bullets were not enough. With every burst of shots came another wave of screams – raw, and piercing, the sound of people torn apart before help could reach them.
In the distance, the figure of Kevastine and Reen fought desperately, dragging the wounded from the jaws of the enemy. Yet for every soul they saved, another slipped through his reach. Those they could not touch in time were caught by the tide, their cries cut short as bodies were ripped to shreds, torn by the Nether's monstrous swarms.
The weight of it pressed down on the square. Smoke curled in the air, blood soaked the stones, and over it all, the silence of the Shinkari deepened, waiting, and watching. Their faith balanced on the calm figure who had told them to do nothing.
Thalor lifted his hand slowly, and the air around his palm shimmered. From nothing, five small glass bottles took form, their delicate frames glinting faintly in the firelight. At first glance, they looked like elixirs, tiny vials no bigger than a finger joint, but what swirled inside was no common brew.
The liquid pulsed with a sickly purple glow, so dark it seemed almost black, like light struggling to escape the depths of a shadow. The contents moved sluggishly, thick as molten crystal, every ripple releasing a faint hum that pressed against the air.
These were not potions born of nature or healer's craft. These were forged from Essencia Crystals, the rare fragments ripped from dungeon hearts, power distilled into something both dangerous and priceless.
Thalor's voice remained calm as he held out his hand, letting each bottle float toward its chosen recipient. "Take it. This will boost your speed almost to the level of my least fast speed." His tone sharpened, eyes narrowing as his command settled on them. "I'm giving you thirty seconds or less. No more. You will reach the borders of Aderfel and you will guard them. Nothing enters, nothing leaves."
The glass chimed faintly as the bottles landed in waiting hands. Serenya's predator-sharp eyes narrowed at the glow, Orryn's scarred throat bobbed with unease, and even Tharion's scarred fists tightened around the vial as though he were gripping a blade instead of a bottle.
Thalor's gaze swept across them, his voice deepening with authority. "Each of you will take a route that I make for you. Watch the ground, it will show you the way."
The wind shifted, heavy with smoke, as though the city itself held its breath.
Then he spoke again, firmer, every word striking like iron. "Do not stay in one position. Five of you must cover the entire perimeter. From corner to corner, the whole border must be sealed. You move, or you fail."
The weight of his words was more than an order, it was a binding.
They didn't even have the time for questions. The air was too heavy, the situation too dire, and more than that, they trusted him. To doubt, or to hesitate, to ask what he intended would be to waste the seconds they had left. Without exchanging so much as a glance, each uncorked the tiny glass bottle.
The liquid inside quivered, its sickly purple-black glow pulsing once, as though it recognized its purpose. Then, with a single breath, they drank.
The taste was metallic, bitter, a rush of cold that burned through their throats and spread like fire through their veins. Each felt it immediately, the weight in their limbs lifting, the pressure in their bodies snapping loose, the world around them shifting as though sound and space had slowed.
Then the ground responded.
At their feet, a faint red line carved itself into existence, glowing against the cracked stone. It stretched forward, straight and sure, before splitting into arrows that pointed outward, branching in five distinct directions. The crimson glow snaked across the broken city, stretching as far as their eyes could follow, each arrow carving a path toward the borders of Aderfel.
Not one of them spoke. They didn't need to.
In the next heartbeat, they moved.
Their bodies blurred into motion, propelled by the unnatural force of the potion. To mortal eyes, it would have been impossible to follow, their forms streaking into streaks of red and violet light. One after another, Serenya, Kaelith, Tharion, Veyndar, and Orryn vanished, each pursuing their path at a speed that defied reason.
The square fell empty, save for Thalor, who stood alone in the aftermath, his blue eyes still locked on the chaos yet to come.
"Now then…" Thalor's voice was quiet, almost casual, though the crease in his brow betrayed the weight beneath his words. "Who did all this? And when did it begin? It's so… immature of someone." His gaze swept over the square, his eyes narrowing as if searching for a signature in the carnage.
Before the others could respond, a sharp sound split the heavy air.
A dog burst from behind the ruins, its paws skidding across the blood-slick stones. Its barking was frantic, and wild, carrying an urgency that clawed through the smoke. The animal's eyes burned with terror, its coat matted with ash and dust as it sprinted toward them.
Then gunfire.
The rattling hail of bullets tore through the air, deafening in the stillness. The dog's body jerked mid-stride before it collapsed, its cry cut short in a spray of blood. Its lifeless form slid across the stones, coming to rest only a few paces from Thalor's boots.
The silence after was suffocating.
Kevin, who had been standing rigid at the edge of the square, felt his entire body jolt. Until now he had been paralyzed, frozen in the presence of the Shinkari, the greatest men and women in the country, figures most hunters only dreamed of glimpsing once in their lives. To stand before them was overwhelming, almost unreal.
But the gunfire snapped him back.
"What…!?" His voice cracked, half a gasp, half a protest, but no more words followed. His eyes locked on the dog's limp body, the pool of red spreading quickly across the stone.
But what shocked him wasn't its death but the reason it came running with such urgency. The dog had not been running for safety, it had been carrying news; bad news.
Kevin's stomach turned cold as the truth settled over him like a crushing weight. Every single person in the underground train station… had been killed. Slaughtered without discriminating against the young, the old, or the injured.
The realization struck so hard his words dried in his throat. His lips parted, but nothing came out. The shock was too heavy. He could only stare, trembling, as the screams from the city rolled back into his ears like a wave of despair.
"It's okay, kid. You did a good job." Thalor's voice broke through the suffocating emotions choking Kevin, low but steady, carrying the kind of reassurance that cut through the chaos like light through smoke. He turned his gaze to Kevin, and for the first time his lips curved into a faint, warm smile. "You did what most of us couldn't do."
Thalor had already understood what message the dog's barking carried.
Kevin's throat tightened. The words didn't feel like praise, they felt like a hand pulling him back from the edge of despair. He swallowed hard, fighting the sting in his eyes.
Thalor lifted his left palm slowly, his blue strands stirring against the restless wind. "Could you shift Reyna slightly, and stay close. You don't want to die in the end, do you?"
Kevin nodded, his chest heaving as he moved carefully. He lowered himself to Ms. Reyna's side, his hands trembling as he slid an arm beneath her. Her body felt weak, drained, her breaths shallow. Her eyelids fluttered but never lifted, and a soft groan escaped her lips as if even that small movement cost her more strength than she had left.
"Easy," Kevin whispered, pulling her gently into his arms, holding her close without pressing against her wounds. The smell of blood clung to her clothes, thick and metallic, and Kevin clenched his jaw against the rising panic.
Then the air changed.
A low hum vibrated through the square as bluish energy began to swirl from Thalor's body, a glow so deep and sharp it almost pierced the eye. The orb formed above his open palm, shimmering with a color that wavered between luminous blue and shadowy black. It wasn't merely light, it was pressure, like the air itself was bending, folding inward toward the sphere.
Kevin's breath caught as he watched. The orb pulsed, each beat echoing like the slow thrum of a giant heart, only harsher, and heavier, as though it would rupture the world itself. The sound reverberated in his chest, rattling his ribs. Dust and pebbles skittered across the stone as the energy thickened.
The sphere grew not in a burst, but steadily, dangerously each fraction of expansion radiating a force that made the ground tremble beneath their knees. The walls creaked, glass shattered in nearby buildings, and yet Thalor stood calm at its center, his eyes fixed on the horizon.
Then, with the smallest flick of his wrist, he released it.
The orb detonated outward, not in fire or flame, but in waves of blinding blue energy. The sound was deafening, a thunderclap stretched into eternity. The pulse rolled through the city, and then past it, echoing through the whole of Aderfel. Windows burst into shards. The ground shivered like it would crack apart. And for an instant, it was as if the air itself stopped breathing.
Kevin clung to Reyna, shielding her with his body, his heart slamming against his chest. His eyes widened in awe and terror. He had never seen anything like it, not even in the stories whispered about the Shinkari.
Thalor didn't flinch. His calm never wavered, even as the power he commanded shook the world around him.
Then suddenly, everything around him froze.
The world itself seemed to hold its breath. Bullets hung in the air, suspended like shards of metal trapped in glass. The flames no longer crackled, their tongues of fire paused mid-sway. Screams cut off mid-throat, mouths open but soundless, as if voices had been stolen from the people who bore them. Even the wind, once howling through the broken streets, halted in its path, strands of dust and ash hanging motionless in the pale light.
And then, all of it dissolved into white.
No city. No corpses – No blood. No sound. Nothing but the endless, blinding white of a world stripped bare.
Thalor stood alone at the center of it, his figure sharp against the emptiness, as if time itself had chosen to paint him as the only thing that still existed. His chest rose and fell in a quiet rhythm. He closed his eyes, the weight of the silence pressing like a crown upon his brow.
"Now…" his voice whispered into the void, calm yet heavy, "…let's see how I should reform life."
For a moment there was nothing, only stillness and his breath.
Then his lips curved, slowly, into the faint trace of a smile. Not of joy, not of arrogance, but of grim amusement like a man staring at a board of pieces, deciding which to break and which to keep.
"Time reversal and forwarding…" he muttered, his voice low and even, as though reciting a prayer or a curse. "Generation of life and death… arts of forbidden techniques."
The words themselves seemed to ripple through the white, and faint fractures spread outward, like cracks in a frozen lake. Each syllable bent the empty world closer to his will, each thought pulling at the fabric of existence.