Julian closed the distance with explosive speed, Lightning crackling along his limbs, Boost amplifying every muscle fiber. The mutant’s too-many limbs swept toward him in a devastating arc—claws, spines, appendages that should not exist.

He didn’t dodge.

’Now.’

Shadow and Lightning screamed into existence around his blade, forcing themselves together with raw, concentrated will. The fusion sparked, spat, strained—and for a single, crystalline moment, held.

Julian’s eyes widened.

’It’s working. The balance is—’

The fusion detonated.

The unstable energies collapsed, feeding back through his blade, his arm, his soul. Julian’s body locked, electricity dancing across his skin in wild, uncontrolled arcs. Shadows clawed at him from within, trying to drag him into depths that didn’t exist.

His swing, meant to cleave the mutant in half, became a spasming, uncontrolled slash that barely scratched the creature’s hide.

The mutant didn’t hesitate. A limb like a scythe swept toward Julian’s exposed side.

[Gravity].

Julian’s instinctive response saved him—a desperate pulse of increased weight that dragged him downward just enough for the scythe to whistle past his hair instead of removing his head. He hit the ground rolling, came up with his katana raised, blood trickling from his nose.

’Failure. The fusion held for less than a second—barely a heartbeat. The feedback loop destabilized immediately. I pushed too hard, too fast, without enough control.’

The mutant roared and charged again.

Julian’s mind raced even as his body moved, dodging, weaving, buying time. The theory is sound, but the execution lacks refinement. The energies reject each other at a fundamental level—forcing them together requires constant, active suppression. I can’t maintain that suppression while also using the fusion offensively.

He ducked under another swing, rolled between two massive legs, came up behind the creature. His katana lashed out—a normal strike, Lightning-enhanced but not fused—and carved a shallow trench across the mutant’s back.

’One step at a time. First, extend the duration of stable fusion. Then, learn to shape it. Then, deploy it in combat.’

The mutant whirled, too many eyes fixing on him with predatory focus.

But for now—

"Emma! Now!"

A comet of fire slammed into the mutant’s flank, driving it sideways. Emma landed nearby, fists wreathed in flame, her grin fierce despite the situation. "You looked like you needed help!"

Behind her, Fey had found a ruptured water main—liquid arcing through the air in controlled streams, already beginning to wrap around the mutant’s limbs. Zoe circled, waiting for an opening. Dori remained hidden, but Julian could feel her presence—a comforting weight in his awareness.

’Later,’ he promised himself. ’I’ll master it later.’

He raised his katana, the failed fusion already fading from his mind.

"Together," he said. "Take it down."

The mutant roared in frustration as Fey’s liquid tendrils wrapped around three of its limbs, anchoring it in place. The creature thrashed violently, its too-many eyes rolling with mindless fury, but the water held—for now.

Emma didn’t wait for an invitation.

She launched herself forward, a comet of crimson fire and fury. Her fist, wreathed in flames hot enough to melt steel, connected with the mutant’s torso in an explosion of scorched flesh and splattered ichor. The creature screamed—a horrible, multi-tonal sound that seemed to come from everywhere at once.

"Keep it busy!" Fey shouted, sweat beading on her forehead as she struggled to maintain her liquid restraints. "This thing is strong! I can’t hold it forever!"

Zoe answered by lunging from the side, her massive wolf form a blur of black fur and gleaming fangs. She sank her teeth into one of the mutant’s free limbs and wrenched, tearing through corrupted flesh with primal ferocity. The creature’s attention snapped toward her, claws raking across her flank—

And Julian was there.

He came in low and fast, Lightning screaming along his blade, Boost amplifying every movement beyond human limits. His katana found the joint where the mutant’s limb met its torso—a weak point, barely visible, but present. The blade sank deep.

Black blood sprayed across the cracked pavement.

The mutant convulsed, its many limbs flailing in uncontrolled spasms. One caught Emma across the shoulder, sending her tumbling backward with a surprised yelp. Another clipped Zoe’s hindquarters, drawing blood. A third—barbed, venomous—slashed toward Julian’s exposed back.

[Gravity].

The strike slowed—just enough. Julian twisted, the barbed limb passing close enough to tear his coat but missing flesh. His katana came up in a reverse grip and drove downward, pinning the limb to the ground.

"Fey! Now!"

The water tendrils tightened. Fey’s face was pale with effort, but her eyes burned with focus. The liquid compressed, hardened, became a vise of impossible pressure around the mutant’s remaining limbs. Bones cracked. Flesh split. Dark ichor pooled beneath the creature, spreading across the ruined street in thick, viscous streams.

The creature’s roar became a gurgle.

Emma was already back on her feet, her shoulder smoking where the blow had landed but her grin intact. "My turn!"

She erupted.

Fire poured from her in a controlled torrent—not wild, not desperate, but aimed. A lance of concentrated flame that punched through the mutant’s torso and kept going, carving a tunnel through corrupted flesh and out the other side.

The creature went still.

For a long moment, no one moved.

Then its body fell—the massive bulk crashing to the ground with a ground-shaking thud that sent dust and debris scattering. The too-many limbs sprawled at unnatural angles. The too-many eyes glazed over, staring at nothing. Dark blood continued to seep from a dozen wounds, pooling around the corpse in a spreading stain.

It was dead. Thoroughly, completely, irrevocably dead.

And it wasn’t going anywhere.

Julian straightened, katana dripping with ichor that steamed faintly where it touched the ground. His breathing was controlled, but there was a tightness around his eyes—the residue of failed fusion, of energies that had turned inward instead of outward.

Emma jogged over, rotating her injured shoulder with a wince. "You okay? That looked... weird. Like your attack just fell apart."

"An experiment," Julian replied quietly. "It failed."

Fey released her liquid restraints with a visible effort, the water splashing harmlessly to the ground. She staggered slightly, catching herself on a piece of debris. "Failed how? Because from where I was standing, it looked like you almost blew yourself up."

"An accurate assessment." Julian sheathed his katana and moved toward the massive corpse. Steam still rose from the wound Emma had carved through its torso. The smell was indescribable—burnt flesh, corrupted blood, something else that lingered at the edge of perception.

He reached into the cavity and retrieved the core.

Dori peeked out from behind a collapsed wall, her gentle face pale at the sight of the massive corpse. "Is it... is it really dead?"

"Very," Emma confirmed, prodding one of the too-many limbs with her foot. It didn’t move. "Gross, but very."

Zoe shifted back to her human form, her wound already clotting. She accepted the pack Dori held out without comment, dressing quickly while her golden eyes tracked the surrounding area for additional threats.

Fey ambled over to examine the core in Julian’s hand. "Another one. These things are popping up more and more since the limiter came off."

"Evolution accelerates," Julian replied, tucking the core into his Inventory. "The Blight adapts. So do we."

Emma stretched her arms above her head, wincing slightly at the movement. "So. New skill testing during actual combat. Bold strategy, Julian. Might want to save that for training sessions next time."

"Noted." But there was warmth in his voice—the particular warmth he reserved only for them. He looked at the massive corpse, then at his team, then at the path ahead.

Emma settled onto Zoe’s broad back, wincing slightly as she adjusted her position around her injured shoulder. The adrenaline had faded, leaving behind the familiar ache of overworked muscles and the sting of wounds that would take time to heal.

She glanced over at Fey, who was climbing up with considerably less enthusiasm, her face still pale from the effort of maintaining those liquid restraints.

"Hey, Fey." Emma’s voice carried over the wind as Zoe began to move. "How much longer to Greenday? Distance-wise, I mean."

Fey groaned, not from pain but from the sheer effort of having to access her mental maps while exhausted. She closed her eyes for a moment, running calculations behind her tired gaze.

"At Zoe’s pace? Maybe another half day. Less if we don’t run into more mutant parties." She cracked one eye open, glancing at Julian. "Assuming our fearless leader doesn’t decide to test more experimental skills on every creature we meet."

Julian, seated near Zoe’s shoulders, didn’t turn. But there was something in the set of his shoulders—not tension, exactly. Awareness. "The tests are necessary. The timing can be improved."

"Ya think?" Fey muttered.

Dori, clinging to Emma’s waist with her usual gentle grip, spoke up softly. "Half a day isn’t very long. We should be there by nightfall, right? Will we attack immediately, or observe first?"

Julian considered the question. "Observe. Greenday is larger than Rain’s operation. A direct assault without reconnaissance would be reckless."

Emma perked up at that, her earlier fatigue momentarily forgotten. "Ooh, recon. Sneaking around. Spying on people. I’m good at that."

"You’re good at setting things on fire," Fey corrected. "Those are different skills."

"Fire can be sneaky! Small fires. Controlled fires. Distraction fires."

"...I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that."

Zoe’s ears twitched, catching their banter. A low, rumbling sound escaped her—not quite a growl, not quite a purr. Contentment, perhaps. Or amusement. With Zoe, it was hard to tell.

Julian’s hand found the thick fur at her neck, stroking gently. "Save your strength for running. We’ll need it."