Day 72-73 Post-Impact - Night
The ravine was darker than death.
Sarnav moved through it with his team, feeling his way along the rain-carved walls while Minji's illusions masked their presence from any observers above. The moon had set an hour ago, leaving only starlight to guide them, and even that was swallowed by the dense jungle canopy overhead. The air was thick with humidity and the smell of rotting vegetation, each breath a reminder of how far they'd come from Harmony's relative safety.
"Two kilometers to the target zone," Jade's voice crackled through his earpiece, barely above a whisper. "Enemy patrols have shifted north. You have a clear path for the next fifteen minutes."
"Copy." He glanced back at his team. Ishani moved like a shadow, her combat training evident in every silent step. She'd tied her hair back, applied dark camouflage to her face, and moved with the predatory grace that had first attracted him to her. Minji's face was tight with concentration, maintaining the illusion field that turned them into nothing more than tricks of the dark. Her normally playful energy was focused entirely on the task, no gaming references or jokes tonight. Serena brought up the rear, her probability sense constantly reaching out, adjusting their path around unseen dangers.
"Branch ahead," Serena murmured. "Take the left fork. Seventy-three percent better concealment."
They followed her guidance without question. In the hours since they'd departed Harmony, Sarnav had come to appreciate her ability. It wasn't flashy like light manipulation or obvious like illusions. It was subtle. Insidious. A rock that happened to shift, creating noise in the wrong direction. A patrol that decided to check a different sector. A vine that grew just enough to provide handholds where they needed to climb. Small changes that accumulated into significant advantages.
"Stream ahead," Ishani warned, her enhanced senses picking up the sound before anyone else. "Moving water. Mask for sound."
They used it, splashing through the shallow current while it covered any noise they might make. The water was cold, soaking through their boots and pants, but no one complained. Discomfort was irrelevant when death waited at the end of the path.
The ravine deepened as they progressed, the walls rising to twice their height. Good for concealment. Bad for escape if things went wrong. Sarnav filed that away, calculating extraction routes, backup plans, contingencies. His wives via the network provided constant emotional support, a warmth at the back of his mind that reminded him why he was doing this.
Be careful, Nisha's thought drifted to him. Come back to us.
I will, he promised.
"Main force is in position," Jade reported. "Nisha's element ready at the eastern approach. Jiyeon's element ready on the western flank. Ananya and Sana standing by with the reserve, medical stations established. Assault begins at dawn. Thirty-seven minutes."
Thirty-seven minutes. They had thirty-seven minutes to cover the remaining distance and position themselves for the strike.
Sarnav increased their pace, pushing through the darkness toward the enemy that waited ahead.
Dawn
The Ascendancy army had camped in a valley, using the natural terrain as protection against attack. Two hundred eighty-seven converts spread across the depression in organized clusters, some sleeping in shifts, others maintaining watch with the tireless vigilance of the converted. Four B-rank commanders held positions at the cardinal points, their enhanced senses scanning for threats, their abilities ready to deploy at a moment's notice.
At the center, in a tent that somehow looked pristine despite weeks of march through hostile jungle, waited The Herald.
From their position at the ravine's edge, the strike team watched the enemy camp come alive with the first hints of dawn. Cookfires sparked to life. Converts began their morning routines with mechanical precision. Everything synchronized, everything ordered, everything wrong in ways that made Sarnav's skin crawl.
"All units, execute."
The command went out across the network, and the world erupted.
Nisha's element struck from the east, waves of nature magic crashing into the enemy perimeter like a green tsunami. Vines erupted from the ground, entangling converts before they could fully wake. Trees bent impossibly, their branches becoming spears that impaled anyone in their path. Thorns the size of daggers tore through those who resisted. Behind the plant assault, Harmony's soldiers advanced in disciplined ranks, weapons ready.
From the west, Jiyeon's element hit the opposite flank with devastating precision. Her charm abilities washed over the enemy lines, not converting them but confusing them, planting doubt and hesitation in minds that had known only certainty. Soldiers paused at crucial moments, weapons lowering slightly, eyes going unfocused. In that hesitation, her fighters cut them down without mercy.
The Ascendancy reacted with frightening coordination. Even half-awake, the converts moved as one, their minds linked by whatever dark power The Herald had given them. They formed defensive clusters without spoken orders, protecting each other instinctively, fighting with the desperate strength of true believers who knew death was preferable to failure.
Via the network, Sarnav felt his wives engaging. Nisha's fierce determination as she pushed deeper into enemy lines, her nature magic growing stronger with every passing moment. Jiyeon's calculated aggression as she exploited every opening, every weakness, her strategic mind turning chaos into advantage. Ananya's rhythm magic pulsed across the battlefield, disrupting the enemy's unnatural synchronization, forcing them to fight as individuals rather than a hive mind. Sana moved between wounded allies like an angel of mercy, her healing light bringing broken soldiers back into the fight seconds after they fell.
"B-rank commander moving to the eastern front," Jade reported, her voice crisp despite the stress. "Designation: The Hammer. Strength enhancement, enhanced durability, area-of-effect ground pounds. Nisha, be advised."
"I see him." Nisha's voice was strained but steady. "Engaging."
Through the network, Sarnav felt the impact as The Hammer met Nisha's defensive line. Trees splintered. The ground shook. Soldiers flew through the air like ragdolls. But Nisha held, her nature magic adapting, creating new barriers as fast as the enemy destroyed them.
"Western flank under pressure," Jiyeon reported. "The Voice is approaching. Another B-rank. Sound-based abilities."
"Can you counter her charm with your charm?"
"Different frequencies. I'm trying. It's... difficult."
The battle had begun in earnest. Every second they delayed was another second their people bled and died.
Now came the hard part.
The strike team emerged from the ravine into chaos.
Dust and smoke choked the valley, reducing visibility to mere meters in places. Screams echoed off the walls, the cries of the dying mixing with battle roars and the crack of abilities clashing. The dawn light filtered through the haze like something from a nightmare, painting everything in shades of blood and fire.
"Illusion holding," Minji reported, sweat beading on her forehead despite the morning chill. Her hands trembled slightly with the effort of maintaining the concealment field. "But there's interference. Something is trying to pierce it. Like... like someone's looking for deception specifically."
"The Herald," Serena said, her voice tight. "Her conversion ability includes enhanced perception of falsehood. She can sense deception, lies, illusions. Anything that contradicts what she considers truth."
"How long do we have before she finds us?"
"Three minutes. Maybe four." Serena's eyes were distant, calculating probability chains, shifting variables. "We need to move faster. Every second we delay, the odds shift against us."
They sprinted through the edge of the battle, Minji's illusions making them appear as converts rushing to reinforce the perimeter. Enemy soldiers ran past without a second glance, too focused on the assault battering their lines to question four more bodies moving through the chaos. An explosion detonated thirty meters to their left, showering them with dirt and debris. Sarnav felt the heat wash over him, smelled burning flesh and ozone.
A convert stumbled into their path, bleeding from a wound in his shoulder. He looked at them with glazed eyes, mouth opening to speak. Before he could make a sound, Ishani's light blade took his head. The body dropped without ceremony.
"Keep moving," she said, already past him.
"Fifty meters to the command tent," Jade guided through the earpiece. "Twenty converts between you and the target. Two of them are B-rank. Designations: The Whisper and The Chain. Sensory enhancement and binding abilities respectively."
"Combat capabilities?"
"The Whisper can hear a heartbeat from a hundred meters and detect lies by vocal tremors. The Chain creates unbreakable bindings from pure energy. Neither is primarily combat-focused, but they're both dangerous. And they'll raise alarm the instant they spot you."
Ishani's light gathered around her hands, bright enough to cast shadows despite the dawn. "I can blind them. Create an opening. A solar burst to overload their senses."
"That will give away our position to everyone in a fifty-meter radius. We'll have the entire guard force on us in seconds."
"Then we make those seconds count." She looked at Sarnav, her eyes fierce. "On your order."
He assessed the situation with cold precision. Twenty converts forming a loose perimeter around the command tent. Two B-ranks among them, their abilities perfectly suited to detecting threats like the strike team. One S-rank target inside that tent, capable of ending them all with a word.
The main battle raged around them, buying time they were rapidly running out of. Through the network, he felt his wives struggling. Nisha pushing back The Hammer through sheer force of will. Jiyeon locked in a battle of influence with The Voice. Ananya's rhythm magic straining to maintain disruption across such a large area. Sana running low on healing energy but refusing to stop.
"Serena. Can you shift probability on those B-ranks?"
"Already working on it." Her face was pale with effort, veins standing out on her temples. "The Whisper is about to sneeze. Allergic reaction to pollen. I seeded the probability three hours ago. It'll incapacitate her sensory ability for six seconds. The Chain... his binding constructs are going to malfunction. Metal fatigue in the bracers that focus his power. Bad luck. Poor maintenance on equipment that should have been replaced weeks ago. Should give us an opening of eight to ten seconds."
"Should?"
"Eighty-seven percent confidence. Maybe eighty-nine. The variables are shifting too fast to be certain."
Eighty-seven percent. In the old world, that would have been excellent odds. In this one, thirteen percent meant dead.
It would have to be enough.
"Ishani, on my mark. Minji, drop the illusion and switch to confusion patterns. Make them see threats everywhere. Serena, the moment their abilities fail, bend everything you have toward getting us through. We go loud, we go fast, we don't stop until we reach that tent."
They nodded, faces set with grim determination.
"Three. Two. One. Mark."
Light exploded across the enemy position.
Ishani's power had grown since joining the network, fed by the bonds she shared with her husband and sister-wives. What once would have been a flashbang was now a solar flare, a burst of radiance that turned the smoky dawn into blazing noon. Converts screamed, clawing at their faces as their retinas burned. The Whisper, mid-sneeze from the allergic reaction Serena had engineered, inhaled pure light and collapsed choking, her enhanced hearing now a liability as the thunder of the blast overwhelmed her senses.
The Chain tried to summon his bindings, but the bracers on his wrists sparked and died, metal fatigue causing catastrophic failure at the worst possible moment. He stared at his hands in disbelief for two precious seconds before Minji's illusions hit.
Suddenly there were dozens of attackers, coming from every direction, phantoms that looked and sounded and even smelled real. Converts fired at shadows. Swords swung at empty air. The Chain threw broken bindings at illusions while the real threats moved among them like wolves through scattered sheep.
Sarnav led the charge, his A-rank power surging through his body with the full force of the network behind it. He hit the first convert like a thunderbolt, enhanced strength shattering the man's guard and ribs simultaneously, sending him flying into two others. The second died before she could scream, his hand punching through her chest and out her back. Blood sprayed hot across his face, and he was already moving, already striking the next target.
Ishani fought beside him, light blades carving through enemies with surgical precision. Her movement was beautiful and terrible, a dance of death that left bodies in her wake. A convert lunged at her with a spear; she sidestepped, severed his arm at the elbow, then took his head on the return stroke. Another came from behind; she didn't even turn, just extended a blade of light backward and let him impale himself on it.
Her earlier words echoed in his mind: I would burn the world for this family.
She was burning it now. One enemy at a time.
"The Chain is down!" Serena called, her voice sharp with triumph. "His bindings malfunctioned. He's trying to retreat." The B-rank stumbled backward, broken bracers sparking uselessly. "Path is clear to the tent!"
They pushed through the remaining converts, leaving chaos and corpses in their wake. Minji's illusions kept reinforcements confused, chasing phantoms while the real killers advanced. Serena bent probability with every step, a guard's sword breaking at the hilt, a convert tripping on a root that hadn't been there a second ago, a lucky shot going wide by centimeters.
The command tent was right there, pristine white canvas somehow untouched by the battle raging around it. It stood like an eye of calm in the storm, and that wrongness made Sarnav's skin crawl.
The tent flap opened.
And standing before it, finally visible, was The Herald.
She was younger than Sarnav expected. Mid-twenties perhaps, with dark hair that fell past her shoulders in waves that seemed to move despite the still air. Her eyes were the color of old honey, warm and welcoming and utterly empty of anything human. She wore simple white robes, no armor, no weapons. She didn't need them.
Because her smile alone was enough to make him hesitate.
"I wondered when you would come," she said, and her voice was music. Not metaphorically. Literally. Every word carried harmonics that resonated in his chest, in his skull, in places that had no business responding to sound. Beautiful. Compelling. The kind of voice you wanted to listen to forever, wanted to drown in, wanted to become part of. "The probability manipulator shifted the odds just enough to make this possible. Clever. Very clever. I almost didn't notice until you were already here."
Serena stumbled, her face going white as milk. "She knows. She can feel what I'm doing. Every probability shift I make, she can sense it."
"Of course I can, dear." The Herald's smile widened, somehow becoming more warm and more terrifying simultaneously. "You bend likelihood. I bend belief. We are not so different, you and I. Both of us shape what people think is possible." Her gaze shifted to Sarnav, those honey eyes fixing on him with unsettling intensity. "And you. The one building an army of devoted wives. The Harmony Cultivator, they call you. You understand what I do, don't you? The power of connection. Of loyalty given freely. Of bonds that transcend the individual."
"There's nothing free about what you do." Sarnav raised his hand, power gathering, every instinct screaming at him to strike now before she could say another word. "You take their minds. You steal their will."
"I open their minds. I show them truth, and they choose to follow." She spread her arms, encompassing the battle raging around them, the hundreds of converts fighting and dying in her name. "Every one of them chose this. Chose me. Chose the glory that is coming. The thing that sleeps beneath the earth, waiting to be awakened. They understand what you refuse to see."
Her voice dropped, becoming intimate, personal, reaching past his defenses toward something deep and primal. Every word was a hook, digging into places he didn't know he had, trying to find purchase in the foundations of his identity.
"I could show you too. Show you what true devotion looks like. What you've built with your wives... it's beautiful. Truly. Seven souls bound together in love and purpose. But it's incomplete. Imperfect. Let me complete it. Let me show you what your network could become with true faith to guide it."
Her words were more than words. They were invasion. He felt the conversion ability reaching for him, sliding against the network bonds that connected him to his wives. Testing. Probing. Looking for cracks.
The bonds held. Seven souls, intertwined with his, anchoring him against the tide of her power. Nisha's love. Ishani's fierce devotion. Jade's sharp loyalty. Minji's playful affection. Ananya's warm acceptance. Sana's gentle care. Jiyeon's strategic partnership. All of them wrapped around his mind like armor, like home, like everything worth fighting for.
"Now," he said.
Serena's ability surged, every ounce of her power focused on a single probability: The Herald's voice failing at the critical moment.
[TO BE CONTINUED]
[DAY 72-73]
[OPERATION: CRITICAL PHASE]
[THE HERALD: ENGAGED]
[HARMONY SAFE ZONE STATUS][WESTERN EXPANSION: 100% COMPLETE][MYTHILI: MANAGING CIVILIAN SHELTER]
[NEXT: CONFRONTATION]