The moon above Velmiren was no longer silver.
It burned.
A fractured crimson sphere hung low in the atmosphere, its light distorted by toxic particles suspended in the sky. The forest beneath it pulsed like a living organism infected by a spreading virus. Leaves shimmered with corrupted bioluminescence, their veins glowing like broken circuitry. Roots shifted beneath the soil in slow, serpentine movements—semi-sentient, reacting to foreign energy signatures.
Velmiren was not dying.
It had been rewritten.
Elaris stepped past the boundary line where healthy land once ended. Her boots activated with a soft magnetic hum, scanning terrain density and toxin levels. A translucent tactical overlay flickered across her vision—air toxicity: elevated. Spore mutation index: unstable. Bio-electric disturbances: active.
Her wings folded tightly against her back.
Not feathered anymore.
Not entirely.
Laced between organic strands were stabilizing filaments of silver alloy. Faint pulses of blue light traveled along embedded circuitry, syncing with the neural core beneath her collarbone. Every heartbeat triggered a soft mechanical echo inside her ribs.
Fairy.
Machine.
Neither fully. Both completely.
Her internal systems hummed.
"Careful, Starwing."
Xyren's voice cut through her comm-link, layered with static interference. "You're crossing into her dominion. Bio-signatures confirm throne-zone proximity."
Elaris didn't respond immediately. Her gaze remained forward.
"I know," she finally said, voice steady but lower than usual.
The forest reacted to her presence.
Poisoned flowers recoiled. Vines tightened around metallic bark. The air thickened as if analyzing her—organic sensors detecting foreign circuitry. Somewhere deeper, something pulsed in rhythm with her own mechanical core.
She felt watched.
Then—
A distortion at the edge of her vision.
A tall silhouette stepped partially into the crimson glow.
Black coat. Controlled stance. Storm-grey eyes.
Kael.
His presence didn't trigger her threat interface. That was the dangerous part.
He stood just outside the poisoned clearing, hands relaxed behind his back, expression unreadable as ever. But his gaze tracked her movements precisely—evaluating terrain angles, venom density, potential ambush vectors.
Calculating.
For her survival.
Their eyes met for half a second.
His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.
Not cold.
Controlled.
There was a difference.
Before she could read more, the ground ahead shifted.
Thorns erupted from the soil—not plant matter, but metallic-organic spires fused with black crystal veins. They spiraled upward, assembling themselves into a grotesque structure.
A throne.
It grew like a wound opening.
And upon it sat the ruler of corruption.
Lysira Nyte.
Once Bloomfall. Golden fairy of dawn.
Now—
Venom-coded monarch.
Her wings unfolded slowly, no longer radiant gold but layered with translucent emerald membranes. Toxic plasma dripped from their edges, hissing as it hit the ground, burning through soil like acid algorithms deleting old code.
Her skin shimmered faintly with embedded toxin lines—veins glowing green beneath porcelain flesh. A living fusion of magic and engineered mutation.
Her eyes locked onto Elaris instantly.
Predatory.
Sharp.
Hungry.
"Starwing," Lysira said softly.
Her voice didn't echo.
It layered.
As if multiple frequencies overlapped in harmonic venom.
"You enter my domain carrying stolen light… and borrowed steel."
Behind her, figures emerged from the shadows.
Half-human.
Half-augmented.
Their limbs reinforced with bio-metal plating. Veins glowing toxic green. Eyes replaced with crystalline lenses emitting scanning beams.
Poison-infantry.
Lysira's evolved army.
Elaris felt her pulse quicken—but her neural core compensated instantly, regulating adrenaline spikes.
"You turned this sanctuary into a bio-weapon," Elaris said, voice steady despite the tremor beneath it. "Velmiren was life."
Lysira tilted her head.
"No," she replied calmly. "Velmiren was weak."
The throne pulsed beneath her.
"I removed fragility. I optimized it."
Her gaze sharpened.
"Unlike you, who still clings to emotional vulnerabilities."
Her eyes flicked toward Kael.
The air temperature dropped.
"Tell me, Elaris… do you even understand the man standing behind you?"
Kael didn't move.
But Elaris sensed the shift.
His energy field destabilized for 0.7 seconds—barely measurable. Protective reflex triggered. Then suppressed.
He stepped forward slightly—not enough to appear defensive. Just enough to reposition himself between Lysira's primary strike range and Elaris' left flank.
Subtle.
Deliberate.
Lysira smiled.
Blade-sharp.
"Interesting."
Elaris ignored the bait.
"What do you want?"
Lysira extended one hand.
Venom gathered at her fingertips, swirling into holographic runes—ancient symbols rewritten in toxin-light. They projected outward, forming a map of Velmiren overlaid with glowing nodes.
Energy signatures.
Artifact markers.
"Nyvrix is not idle," Lysira said quietly. "He searches for something buried in the Magical Library."
At the name, the forest glitched.
Literally.
Shadows flickered unnaturally, as if reality buffering.
"Knowledge," Lysira continued. "Weapons. Power."
Her eyes returned to Elaris.
"You will need them if you wish to survive what is coming."
Elaris narrowed her eyes.
"Why tell me?"
Lysira leaned back slightly, wings spreading wider.
"Because if Nyvrix succeeds… none of us remain sovereign."
A beat of silence.
Then—
Xyren's voice cut in urgently:
"Starwing, energy scans confirm multiple artifact vaults across Velmiren. Each protected by trial matrices. Access probability: low."
Lysira's smile deepened.
"Only one with wings of light… and circuits of steel… can pass them."
Her gaze sharpened.
"Survive the trials. Claim the artifacts."
Venom dripped slowly from her wings.
"And perhaps you will earn the right to challenge what is coming."
The throne began sinking back into the earth, thorns retracting like closing jaws.
"But understand this, Starwing," Lysira added softly.
"If you fail… Velmiren will not forgive weakness twice."
The clearing fell silent.
Only Kael remained near her.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then, quietly—
"You shouldn't trust her," he said.
Not cold.
Not distant.
Concern buried beneath restraint.
Elaris looked at him.
"I don't."
A pause.
"But I trust what's coming even less."
Kael's eyes darkened slightly.
And without another word, she turned toward the deeper forest.
Toward the trials.
Behind her, Kael remained still—watching Lysira's territory carefully.
Ensuring the Poison Queen made no sudden move.