"Unity is not forged by peace, but by purpose."
The first light of dawn didn't come from the sun. It came from the portal.
Hovering over the shattered plains east of Solstice, the rift now blazed like a second sky—its swirling core had expanded, edges crackling with dimensional instability. From afar, it looked like a bleeding wound in reality, one that pulsed with unfamiliar stars and alien energies.
But despite its threat, it was not ignored.
Atop the Citadel's great balcony, banners of every allied nation now hung side-by-side—Ironstone, Verdant Vale, Frost Dominion, Flamehorn, Skyreach Guilds, and more. Below them, elite troops gathered: spellcasters in silver mantle cloaks, beast-tamers mounted on obsidian panthers, blade dancers from the eastern archipelagos, and stormcallers from the floating isles.
And at the heart of it stood Aira Blazebound, wrapped in her Solar Ascension cloak, glowing faintly with celestial fire. Around her wrist coiled her new talent's emblem—a radiant flame spiral etched with starlight runes.
The Warband was being born.
She turned to address her assembled team. "You are not just representatives of your nations. You are the tip of the spear. We don't walk through that portal for glory or conquest. We go because the world needs to strike first. To understand what's coming. To survive."
Lysara stood at her side, arms folded, cold aura balancing Aira's flame. "This isn't a march. It's a scalpel. Precision over numbers."
General Ruthor approached, begrudgingly impressed. "This 'Vanguard Warband'—you chose it well. But just know… if it collapses, so does morale across the continent."
Aira nodded. "Then we don't let it collapse."
The members began arriving.
First was Kael of the Emberfangs, a beastkin with twin axes and a fiery mane. "I heard your flames don't burn out, Blazebound. Let's see if they burn brighter beside mine."
Then came Mirin, a blind seeress from the Shifting Sands, escorted by two sand-shrouded guardians. "The portal speaks in riddles. I hear them in my dreams. I follow because I must."
Next was Sir Thalen, a knight of the Crystal Order, his armor inscribed with anti-corruption glyphs. "This armor was made for fighting taint. I offer blade and bulwark."
From the Verdant Vale came Ilia, a dryad archer who whispered to her arrows. "The invaders twist nature. I'll show them what unbroken roots feel like."
And lastly, to everyone's surprise, Arcturon, a half-demon exile with obsidian horns and voidfire scars. He said nothing—just knelt before Aira and placed a blackened sigil at her feet. His allegiance was silent… but solid.
The Vanguard Warband now had twenty-six elite members, each representing a nation, a guild, or a cause.
Lysara smirked. "You've got a walking wildfire, a blind oracle, a tree with a bow, and a demon. If this isn't madness, it might just be brilliance."
Aira tightened the gauntlets at her wrists. "Let's find out."
---
Hours Later – Forward Encampment, Portal Base
A makeshift camp had formed at the portal's edge, protected by barrier runes and siege towers. Artillery units stood ready to fire should anything emerge. Scouts reported strange energy readings near the portal's rim—fluctuating time pockets, spatial warps, echoes of languages no one recognized.
Aira walked through the warband's deployment tent, examining maps marked with crimson glyphs where energy surges had been felt.
Mirin the Seeress approached. "Tonight, the veil will open fully. You must pass through before it stabilizes, or you may never breach it again. The path within is a trial… or a trap."
"I'm used to both," Aira answered, placing her hand on the Flame Insignia she'd received from Lysara.
Arcturon spoke next. "I feel them, you know. Not just beyond the portal. Inside me. Something familiar… and angry."
Kael cracked his knuckles. "I say we cut through anything that snarls. Works every time."
Sir Thalen corrected him. "Not against corruption. It spreads with every death. We fight, yes, but smartly."
They were warriors, yes—but different. Wildly different. And yet they all listened when Aira spoke.
"Once we pass through, there's no telling how time or space will behave," she warned. "Stay close. Watch for mind tricks. The enemy is more than physical."
---
Dusk – The Breach
The moment came as the sky turned amber.
The portal pulsed three times—and then expanded into a perfect ring. Inside was not darkness, but a shimmering silver world, like a reflection of their own continent, twisted and inverted.
Aira led the way, stepping through with her Solar Flame form faintly active. One by one, the warband followed.
Inside the Portal
The air was thicker. The sky above was a swirling ocean of colors. Towering spires of flesh and metal jutted from the ground. Trees pulsed with veins. The ground felt alive.
Aira whispered, "This place is wrong."
Lysara nodded. "It's a mockery of our world. Built to break us mentally before it does so physically."
They moved in formation. Aira at front, Thalen and Kael flanking. Ilia covered the rear with vines marking the trail.
They passed strange statues — human-shaped but with distorted faces, as if screaming in slow motion.
Suddenly, from one of the black spires, creatures emerged.
They were not beasts. They were warped echoes of adventurers — twisted armor, skeletal wings, eyes glowing violet. One of them even wore the sigil of the Flamehorns.
"They took our dead," Ruthor muttered in horror from the scrying mirror, watching from Solstice. "They repurpose us."
Aira drew her blade, which now shimmered with a pale gold flame. "Warband—engage!"
The clash was brutal.
Kael cleaved one in half with a roaring leap. Arcturon fought with cold fury, voidfire eating the soul from his enemies. Ilia shot arrows that turned to explosive blossoms.
And Aira…
She ignited fully, becoming Skyflame Incarnate, her Solar Form reaching new brilliance. She launched into the sky, raining down Blazing Meteors that carved through enemy lines with solar precision.
But then… something massive stirred in the distance.
A towering figure emerged—a Warden of the Rift, nearly thirty feet tall, with a hollow chest and a blade that pulsed with memories of every soul it had devoured.
It turned its gaze toward Aira.
And it spoke.
"You are the fire that dares defy the Void. We remember you. You must be extinguished."
Aira floated mida
ir, surrounded by burning wings. "Then come try, nightmare."
The first real battle of the next war had begun.