The sound was not his.
It pulsed beneath the ground—slow, deliberate, ancient. Each beat carried through the ash into his knees, his ribs, the marrow of his bones. It wasn't just sound. It was pressure, coiling through the air and tugging at the same deep place his life force came from.
The storm-beast paused. Its head tilted, sockets flaring brighter, as if it too could hear it.
Thud.Thud.Thud.
The ash directly beneath Aero cracked, a thin green glow bleeding from the fissures. He didn't move—couldn't move—eyes locked on the light as it spread, spiderwebbing outward. The beast hissed, a metallic, grinding sound like an avalanche of steel. Lightning flickered over its body, but its focus wavered, twitching between Aero and the fissures.
The glow erupted.
From the ground, roots—not like the stunted ones Aero had pulled earlier—burst upward. They were massive, each as thick as his torso, their bark veined with that same pulsing green light. They wrapped around his arms and shoulders, not constricting but holding him steady, like a hand bracing a child before they fell.
Then they moved for the beast.
The first root slammed into its torso, bending with unnatural speed, smashing it sideways into the ash. The second coiled around one of its legs, the green light burning into the storm-flesh like acid. The creature screamed again, this time in pain, its voice less infinite and more… mortal.
Aero's breath came hard and fast. He didn't control these roots—he could feel that immediately. They were alive in a way even his own power wasn't, their pulse older and heavier than his own. But they were listening to him. Not words. Not thoughts. Instinct.
When the beast rose again, Aero moved with them.
He shot forward, life force flooding his limbs. Each step landed in perfect sync with the roots' whip-like strikes, their attacks creating openings he could exploit. He ducked under a cloud-coated claw swipe, slamming his palm into its ribs. The impact rippled with green-white light, shredding part of its torso into steaming mist.
The roots followed up, slamming the opening shut with a crushing bind.
For the first time since the fight began, Aero saw something close to fear in the beast's flickering form.
"Got you," he hissed, his voice low, feral.
He poured his life force into one arm until it trembled, muscles screaming under the surge. His vision blurred at the edges, blood singing in his ears. Then he drove his fist into the bound creature's core.
The explosion was blinding.
A blast of green light and storm-lightning erupted at once, swallowing them both. The air pressure shifted violently, sucking the ash upward in a spiraling column that screamed into the sky. Aero's body was thrown back, the roots snapping away from him as they recoiled from the blast.
He hit the ground hard enough to taste blood.
For a moment, silence.
Then—crackle.
The storm-beast was still there.
Barely.
Its body was fractured, pieces of its storm-shell hanging loose like broken armor. Lightning flickered weakly in its chest cavity. It staggered forward, slow and deliberate. Its form was smaller now, more… humanoid. Almost like it was burning itself down to survive.
Aero tried to rise, but his limbs felt like they were packed with molten lead. His life force was nearly empty—every movement scraped against the bottom of his well.
The roots did not move. They were gone, the green glow swallowed back into the ground, leaving only faint fissures in the ash.
Thud.Thud.The second heartbeat still lingered, but distant now. Watching.
The beast lunged—not with speed, but with weight. Aero couldn't dodge. He threw up a shaky barrier, the thin film of energy barely forming before the blow hit.
Pain roared through his chest. The barrier shattered instantly, and Aero's back slammed into the same jagged rock from before. Stars burst in his vision, his breath torn out of him.
The storm-beast raised its arm for the killing strike.
And then—he felt it.
Not his life force. Not the roots.
The air.
The faintest touch, brushing his cheek. Cool. Swift. Deliberate. A presence that wasn't him.
A green blur cut between them.
Wind—razor-sharp, compressed into a twisting spiral—sliced across the beast's arm. The limb detonated into cloud and sparks, scattering across the wasteland. The creature reeled, head jerking toward the new arrival.
She was standing there—bare feet in the ash, hair whipping in the wind she controlled, eyes bright and sharp. Her grin was too wide for the situation.
"Hey," she said, voice bubbling despite the danger. "You look like you could use a little help."
Mica.
Aero barely had time to register her before she was moving again—her body blurring in bursts of compressed air. Each step launched her like an arrow, each strike carrying the cutting edge of the wind. She tore into the beast's weakened frame, peeling away what storm-flesh remained with surgical precision. Lightning struck blindly, chasing her, but she was never there when it landed.
Aero, still on his knees, felt his pulse sync with hers. Not deliberately—just the way her presence carried force, the way the wind and his life force seemed to hum at the same frequency.
She shouted over the storm, "You've already softened it up! Let's finish this!"
He pushed himself upright, the last dregs of energy burning in his veins. Together, they closed in—her above, dancing on currents of air, him below, each step hammering into the ash with green-white bursts.
They struck at the same moment.
Her wind sliced through its core. His fist, wrapped in all the life force he could muster, slammed in right behind it.
The storm-beast shattered.
Lightning dispersed harmlessly into the air, the cloud-flesh dissolving into vapor. The wasteland wind returned—harsh, but normal. The only sound left was their breathing.
Aero stayed standing for exactly three seconds before his legs gave out. He hit the ash, laughing once—a short, disbelieving sound—before coughing hard enough to taste blood again.
Mica dropped beside him, her smile softer now. "You're a mess."
"You should see the other guy," he rasped.
She glanced toward the fissures where the roots had emerged. "And… what the hell was that?"
He didn't answer.
Because the second heartbeat… was still there.