The world hadn't finished screaming yet.
The skyline burned crooked, half of it missing, the rest sinking under aftershocks that never ended. BlightMist-9 crawled through streets like a living wound, staining the air red, turning breath into poison. Sirens were gone—either destroyed or abandoned.
Inferius regrouped in the ruins, weapons raised, senses overloaded.
Then—
She returned.
Reality folded inward again, like the universe bracing itself.
Malithra emerged above the fractured avenue, suspended without effort, her presence compressing the air until breathing hurt. The ground beneath her feet blackened and crystallized, geometry breaking down into shapes that didn't belong to Erythia.
Her eyes locked onto Netoshka instantly.
No scanning. No hesitation.
Hatred.
Pure. Focused. Ancient.
"So you choose to persist, Mortal?" Malithra said.
Netoshka stepped forward, blood still drying along her face, her rifle shaking only slightly.
"Inferius," she said sharply, without looking back.
"Evacuate this City. Now."
"What?" Surigien snapped.
"Why should we—"
"That's an order," Netoshka cut in.
"This thing isn't a target. It's a disaster."
Malithra tilted her head.
"You think they matter?"
She gestured.
A pressure wave ripped across the street. Buildings imploded inward. Inferius was thrown back violently, scrambling for cover as Netoshka remained standing—feet grinding into the ground, glitch-fields screaming under the strain.
"GO!" Netoshka roared.
Lyra hesitated—just a second too long.
Netoshka glanced back.
"Lyra."
That was enough for Lyra to understand that she couldn't disobey her order.
Inferius pulled back, retreating through debris and fire, comms breaking up as Malithra's presence distorted everything. Rue dragged Zev's stretcher with Serah and Battery covering. Circe's voice cut out mid-command.
Netoshka was alone.
Malithra descended.
"Hmm...You sent them away," she said softly.
"How noble."
Netoshka raised her weapon.
Pulled the trigger.
The shot never reached her.
It bent—curved—then dissolved into harmless sparks inches from Malithra's face.
"You cannot kill me," Malithra said.
"You barely comprehend me."
She moved.
Netoshka reacted instantly—glitching sideways, reappearing behind her, blade already swinging—
Malithra backhanded her through three buildings.
Netoshka crashed through concrete and steel, body folding wrong, blood spraying the air. She hit the street hard, coughing, ribs screaming.
She forced herself up.
Glitched again.
Malithra was already there.
A fist drove into Netoshka's gut and kept going, space compressing around the impact. Netoshka felt organs rupture, felt her spine scream as she was driven into the ground.
"You are an error," Malithra hissed.
"Born from human arrogance. Sustained by it."
Netoshka tried to stand.
Malithra stepped on her chest.
Cracks spread through the asphalt like a spiderweb.
"I despise you," Malithra continued.
"Not because you fight. But because you believe you matter."
She lifted her foot.
Netoshka rolled, barely, glitching instinctively as the street behind her collapsed into a gravity well.
She staggered upright, vision swimming.
And then—
Malithra stopped looking at her.
Her gaze shifted.
Down the street.
Toward the slums.
Toward a single trembling figure standing in the ruins.
A little girl.
Silver pendant clutched in her fist.
Netoshka felt her blood turn to ice.
"No," she whispered.
Malithra smiled.
"Ah," she said.
"So this is the variable."
She raised her hand.
Reality aimed.
Netoshka didn't think.
She broke.
The glitch detonated—not sideways, not behind, not ahead—but through.
Time fractured.
Netoshka crossed impossible distance in less than a thought, her body tearing itself apart to do it. She slammed into Malithra's strike at full velocity, the impact detonating like a localized apocalypse.
The shockwave vaporized the street.
Netoshka wrapped her arms around Malithra, teeth clenched, muscles tearing.
"NO, NOT—HER!"
Malithra reeled—not hurt, but surprised.
That was enough.
Netoshka glitched again, dragging Malithra with her, ripping both of them away from the slums in a violent spatial tear. They reappeared kilometers away, crashing into the remains of a collapsed transit hub.
Netoshka collapsed to her knees, barely conscious.
Malithra stood slowly.
Blood—divine, iridescent—ran from a split lip.
She touched it.
Looked at her fingers.
Then she laughed.
A sound that cracked the sky.
"So Fascinating," Malithra said softly, eyes burning.
"You can interfere."
She stepped forward.
"This changes everything."
Netoshka tried to rise.
Failed.
Malithra loomed over her, shadow stretching across broken steel.
"You will witness what follows," she said.
"You will survive long enough to understand your failure."
She turned away.
The sky darkened.
Something vast began to move beyond perception.
And Netoshka lay broken in the rubble, breathing shallow, knowing one thing with terrifying clarity—
She hadn't stopped Malithra.
She had only been noticed.