Kruger

The sky howled.

Winds laced with Rift corruption tore across the jungle canopy, screaming through broken trees and the skeletal remains of Spires Outpost. Lightning—black, not white—twisted through the heavens like tendrils, carving sigils into the clouds.

And then—a scream from the Rift itself.

Nelis's pod hit atmosphere.

It fell like a burning verdict—flames spiraling in Viora-blue arcs as it smashed through the Voidstorm layers, its hull groaning but intact. Screeching Wraiths and riftborn flung themselves upward, screeching hatred, only to melt into ash as they neared the descending light.

Inside the capsule, Nelis stood calmly.

Eyes closed. Breathing even.

Around him, his armor's rune systems shifted and adjusted to the storm. His staff hovered mid-air in a magnetic stasis ring, humming with coiled power.

"Bunker's less than ten klicks out," he murmured, half to himself. "Pulse field stable. Storm too thick for full dispersion... guess I'll have to walk it."

He tapped his chest. A beacon pulsed.

The pod slammed into the jungle floor with enough force to level the surrounding trees in a two-hundred-meter radius.

A wave of Rift energy surged outward—

But was met by something stronger.

Nelis.

His boots touched soil.

His cloak unfurled.

And the Rift itself recoiled.

The jungle lit up in violet bursts as Nelis moved.

He walked calmly through the storm, staff in hand, each step radiating controlled Viora pressure. Rift anomalies that would've liquified a man's brain simply snapped shut in his presence. Lesser Voidlings scurried into the dark like insects fleeing sunlight.

Where he passed, the air stitched itself back into order.

But the Mage had felt him.

And it did not hide.

It called.

A new tremor quaked through the jungle—and the ground split open.

From a crater of shadow and smoke rose something taller than the trees, swathed in layered Voidsteel and muscle-like membranes, its crown of bone arching backward like thorns.

A Void Herald.

Built not to hunt—but to kill legends.

Its voice came as a layered vibration across the forest.

"D̶i̶s̴p̸e̸l̶l̸e̴r̶…̷ ̶Y̸o̷u̶ ̷s̸t̸e̴p̷ ̶i̴n̸t̶o̷ ̴t̸h̴e̴ ̷c̷u̴r̵s̶e̷ ̴w̷e̷ ̸w̸r̸i̴t̶e̸…"

Nelis raised a brow.

"Always so dramatic."

He lifted his staff.

The rings at its top split apart, forming a triangle. From the center bloomed blinding Viora-light, and the pulse that followed cracked nearby trees into splinters.

The Void Herald charged.

Nelis moved.

The battle that followed wasn't like the others.

It wasn't war.

It was correction.

The jungle was their colosseum—canopy falling in chunks as Viora beams lanced skyward, shredding Riftlings. The Void Herald swung a whip-blade of living shadow, carving a hundred-meter gash across the terrain.

Nelis ducked, flipped, dispelled the tail mid-air, and cracked it into pure inertia.

"Nice trick," he muttered. "Now watch this."

He slammed his staff into the ground.

An eruption of pure nullification energy spiraled out like a nova, and for one terrible second, the entire storm stilled.

The Void Herald screamed—not in pain, but in fear.

"Y̸o̴u̸ ̶a̴r̸e̷ ̶n̶o̷t̵ ̷s̴u̶p̵p̶o̷s̵e̵d̸ ̷t̴o̵ ̴b̵e̸ ̶r̸e̷a̷l̵—̶"

Nelis spun his staff.

"I'm not."

And then he cleaved it in two.

In the bunker, Kaiell sat upright as a wave of Riftlight flickered past the wall—a pulse so sharp, so clean, that even Nightfell stirred in response.

Jino stepped into the room, holding a comm-beacon.

"Confirmed visual. Nelis is inbound."

He turned to Kaiell, something flickering behind his stony expression.

Not fear.

Not command.

Hope.

"The path to us is open. He's carved through three Rift fractures and burned half the jungle getting here.""Get ready. We move when he arrives. This fight's not over—it's just starting."

Kaiell looked down at his blade.

Nightfell thrummed.

Something inside it whispered. Not in words—but in pulse, like a heartbeat.

Not afraid.

Eager.

Far above, on the warship Veritas, Pablo El'Vertigo grinned.

"He made it through alive."

Karna Voco's voice cut across comms from the Judgment Wound.

"Tell Nelis to hold the line. We're dropping planetary artillery in six."

Back in the jungle, Nelis stood over the severed corpse of the Void Herald.

His eyes lifted to the clouds, where the Mage stirred behind the storm wall.

"Don't worry," he said calmly, stepping forward."You're next."