Day 96 Post-Impact - Dawn
The jungle swallowed them within minutes of leaving the compound.
Sarnav led the strike team northeast, moving at a pace impossible for normal humans. S-rank enhancement meant he could run for hours without fatigue, his body processing essence efficiently enough that exhaustion was more concept than reality. His wives, boosted by the network connection, kept pace easily.
Elena ranged ahead, her shadow abilities letting her flicker between patches of darkness even in the morning light. Ishani took the right flank, light manipulation ready to blind or burn anything that threatened them. Zara covered the rear, military instincts constantly scanning for ambush. Serena stayed close to Sarnav, her probability sense extending outward like invisible radar.
Through the bond, he felt the wives they'd left behind. Nisha's steady presence anchoring everything. Jade's systems tracking their progress. Ananya's rhythm still humming from last night's connection. Minji, Sana, and Jiyeon watching through the network, ready to provide support even at a distance.
[STRIKE TEAM: DEPLOYED]
[DISTANCE TO TARGET: 127 KILOMETERS]
[ESTIMATED INTERCEPT: 14 HOURS]
The Voice's faction has maintained their predicted trajectory, the system reported. No deviation detected. Either they don't know you're coming, or they don't care.
"Probably don't know," Zara said when Sarnav relayed the information. "The Ascendancy's intelligence network died with the Herald. They're operating blind."
"Don't assume," Elena countered from somewhere ahead. "Assumptions get people killed."
They traveled in focused silence for hours, stopping only for water and position checks. The Malaysian jungle was dense and unforgiving, but familiar territory. Sarnav had grown up exploring forests like this with his father, weekend trips before university, before the impact.
The terrain held no surprises for him—he navigated instinctively, finding animal trails and natural pathways that made their progress faster. Through the bond, he felt his wives' appreciation. Even Elena, raised in Russian winters, had adapted quickly to the tropical environment.
"You know this area," Ishani observed during one brief stop. She was barely winded, her light manipulation providing a subtle stamina boost.
"Not specifically. But jungle is jungle." He accepted a water bottle from Serena. "My father used to take me hiking. Before."
The word hung in the air. Everyone had a before now.
"He would be proud," Ishani said quietly. "Of what you've built."
Sarnav wasn't sure about that. His father had been a quiet man who valued precision over dramatic gestures. What would Vikram Vale think of his son leading a faction, bonding with multiple women through some cosmic system?
Speculation is unproductive, the system observed. Focus on the mission.
For once, the clinical detachment was welcome.
By midday, they'd covered nearly eighty kilometers.
"Rest," Zara ordered near a rocky outcrop. "Fifteen minutes. Then final approach."
Serena settled beside Sarnav, her expression troubled. "Something's wrong."
"Your probability sense?"
"It's uncertain. Which is itself unusual." She frowned, rubbing her temples. "The future should be clearer this close to the target. Instead, it's murky. Like something is interfering."
The Voice's persuasion ability may have dimensional properties, the system observed. Mental influence strong enough to control dozens of converts could theoretically create probability static.
"Can you still function?" Sarnav asked.
"Yes. Just don't rely on my predictions as much as usual. They may be compromised."
That was concerning. Serena's warnings had been crucial in previous engagements.
"Elena, you're now primary reconnaissance. Get ahead, find their camp, report back before we engage."
The Russian woman nodded and vanished into shadow.
Afternoon
Elena's report came through the bond two hours later—images and sensations rather than words.
A clearing carved from the jungle. Tents and shelters arranged around a central pavilion in faded red and gold. Converts moving with mechanical efficiency, their eyes distant, movements synchronized like puppets animated by the same hand.
And in the center, on a throne of twisted metal and bone: The Voice.
Through Elena's bond-sight, Sarnav studied him. Younger than expected, maybe thirty, with sharp features and dark hair. He wore robes meant to evoke religious authority, white and gold with borrowed symbols. His posture radiated absolute confidence.
But it was his eyes that drew attention. Even through remote observation, the intensity was unsettling. The fanaticism. The Voice wasn't just leading these people—he believed with the fervor of a true zealot.
Target confirmed, the system noted. B-rank awakened. Ability: Persuasion/Mental Influence. Actively maintaining control over converts. He's strong, but not efficient. This many converts is draining him.
Seventy-three visible, Elena sent. Most D-rank. A few C-rank lieutenants—those will be the real threats besides The Voice. They move with more purpose, more autonomy.
"B-rank against S-rank," Ishani said with predatory anticipation. "This won't take long."
"Don't underestimate mental abilities," Serena cautioned. "Persuasion powers can be insidious. The Herald's voice could affect even bonded individuals."
Recommend targeting The Voice first, the system agreed. Before he can focus his ability on the strike team.
I can assassinate him, Elena suggested through the bond. Shadow step behind, blade across throat. Fight's over before it begins.
Tactically sound. But something felt wrong about it.
"No," Sarnav decided. "Full assault. I want the converts to see their leader fall."
"Why?" Zara asked. "Silent elimination is cleaner."
"Because the Herald's death didn't just remove her—it demoralized her followers. They saw her power wasn't absolute." He met each wife's eyes. "If converts see The Voice die in open combat, see his persuasion can't save him, they'll break faster. Survivors will spread word. The other factions will hear."
"Psychological warfare," Zara understood. "We're not just killing their leader. We're killing their faith."
Effective, the system observed. Also: more satisfying.
"I knew I liked you for a reason," Ishani murmured.
Late Afternoon - The Assault
They hit the camp from four directions simultaneously.
Sarnav came from the north, Void Step carrying him into the encampment's heart in a single shadow-jump. He emerged beside converts and struck before they could react, Soul Crush shattering the first two with enhanced fists that moved faster than human eyes could track. Blood sprayed. Bones shattered. They didn't even have time to scream.
[COMBAT INITIATED]
[TARGETS ENGAGED: 73]
[HOST STATUS: OPTIMAL]
The camp erupted into chaos. Ishani's Solar Flare burst from the east, a wave of blinding light that left a dozen converts screaming, hands clawing at ruined eyes. Elena materialized from shadows in the south, her blades finding throats and spines with surgical precision. Zara's summoned weapons sang from the west—sword to spear to rifle, each perfectly suited to the opponent before her.
The Voice rose from his throne, shock becoming fury. When he spoke, his voice carried unnatural weight, resonating in frequencies that bypassed ears and struck directly at the mind.
"STOP."
The command hit like a physical force. Sarnav felt his muscles trying to obey. Through the network, the same pressure struck his wives.
But the Harmony bond was stronger.
Ten minds linked together, each supporting the others. The Voice's command dispersed like water hitting stone, diluted across eleven consciousnesses.
Sarnav shook off the compulsion and kept moving, Void Stepping through converts, fists crushing skulls and caving in chests.
"Impressive," The Voice said, genuine surprise in his tone. "The Herald's network defense. She spoke of you. The Harmony Sovereign. The one who would either join us or destroy us."
"Guess which one I chose."
Sarnav Void Stepped directly in front of him. His fist came up, wreathed in light and shadow both, the Eclipse Strike forming instinctively.
The Voice raised his hand. "KNEEL."
This time, the command was focused—a mental battering ram aimed directly at Sarnav's will. He felt it trying to crack his defenses, whispers at the edge of consciousness suggesting obedience would bring peace.
The network flared. Ten wives, one purpose, their combined will forming an impenetrable shield. Nisha's stability. Ishani's defiance. Jade's cold logic. All of them pouring strength through the bond.
The Voice's command shattered like glass on stone.
"My turn," Sarnav said, and punched.
Eclipse Strike connected with The Voice's chest. Light and shadow detonated simultaneously. The B-rank flew backward through his throne, through the pavilion, through a tent, crashing against a tree fifty meters away.
Still alive. Barely.
[THE VOICE: CRITICAL DAMAGE]
"Impossible," The Voice wheezed, blood bubbling from his lips. "The Herald said no one could resist..."
"The Herald was wrong about a lot of things." Sarnav walked toward him. "She's dead now. Just like you're about to be."
"Wait." The Voice raised a trembling hand. "I know things. The seal. The entity within. What it really is. What happens when it—"
"I already know about the seal."
"Not everything. Not what it wants. Not what happens when it finally—"
Sarnav's fist ended the sentence.
[THE VOICE: ELIMINATED]
[REMAINING CONVERTS: ROUTING]
He surveyed the battlefield. Ishani cut through resistance with Solar Flare bursts, her light blazing bright enough to leave afterimages. Elena's blades found the C-rank lieutenants who might have organized a counterattack, ending them with professional efficiency. Zara fought with military precision, her summoned weapons rotating through her hands like a deadly dance. Serena stayed back, her probability manipulation creating small miracles—enemies tripping at crucial moments, weapons jamming, attacks missing by millimeters.
The C-ranks tried to rally the remaining converts, shouting orders that couldn't compete with the chaos. One managed to organize a defensive formation before Elena materialized behind him and opened his throat. Another raised a barrier of compressed air that Ishani simply burned through with concentrated light.
Within minutes, organized resistance collapsed entirely.
Forty-seven eliminated. Twenty-six fleeing. Mission parameters satisfied.
"Let them run," Sarnav ordered. "They'll spread word. The other factions will think twice."
"Some might regroup," Zara cautioned.
"Then we'll deal with them again. But scared survivors spreading fear is better than martyrs inspiring revenge."
Elena emerged from shadows, cleaning her blade. "The Voice. What was he trying to tell you?"
"Something about the seal. What it really is." Sarnav looked at the corpse. "Probably manipulation. A last attempt to save himself."
Probably, the system agreed. Or possibly not. The Ascendancy seemed to have knowledge about the entity that others lack.
"We can't interrogate the dead," Ishani pointed out.
True. But the question lingered.
Evening
The search yielded little. The Voice had kept most knowledge in his head. They found maps they already had, plans now moot, and journals filled with religious rambling.
Sarnav read through the journals while his wives completed the search, looking for anything explaining The Voice's last words. Most was cult propaganda—self-aggrandizing accounts of conversions, prayers to the "Sleeping One."
But fragments caught his attention.
The Herald speaks to It daily. She says It grows restless. It remembers what it was before the prison. It wants to go home.
Home. What is home to something that exists between dimensions? The Herald says we will understand when the Awakening comes.
I asked about the seal. She said it is not a prison. It is a cocoon. The entity is not trapped. It is transforming. When it emerges, it will be something new. Something perfect. And we will transform with it.
"Cult nonsense," Zara pronounced, tossing the last journal into the fire they'd built.
"Maybe." Sarnav stared at the flames consuming the journals. "Or maybe they knew something we don't."
"Does it matter?" Zara asked. "The seal is holding. We're monitoring it. When it becomes a problem, we'll deal with it."
She was right, pragmatically speaking. The seal was intact—degraded, but intact. Worrying about cult mythology wouldn't change their tactical situation.
But the words lingered. It is not trapped. It is transforming.
What if the seal wasn't a prison? What if it was something else entirely?
"One faction down," Serena noted. "Two remaining."
"The largest is still a month out. We have time."
The smallest faction is self-destructing, the system added. Internal conflict has reduced their numbers by forty percent. They may eliminate themselves.
"Then our job is almost done," Ishani said, stretching muscles that had been used for combat. Despite the violence, she looked energized—fighting always left her that way. "Back to base, hot bath, celebration?"
Through the bond, Sarnav felt her anticipation. Combat always left her with energy to burn, and she had particular ways of burning it.
"Tomorrow. We camp here tonight. Move at first light."
"The compound is only fourteen hours," Ishani pointed out.
"And we've been moving for sixteen already, with a major engagement in between." He met her eyes. "Even with S-rank enhancement, rest matters. We'll be useless if we arrive exhausted."
Tactical wisdom, the system observed. Also: the strike team's average exhaustion level is 67%. Rest is advised.
Ishani accepted the logic, if not happily.
Elena set up a shadow perimeter, darkness extending outward to form an early warning system. Zara organized watch rotation with military efficiency. Serena settled into meditation, trying to restore her probability sense after the interference she'd experienced.
Sarnav stood at the camp's edge, staring northeast toward the sealed rift.
Not what it really is. Not what happens when it—
What had The Voice been trying to say?
Unknown, the system admitted. Perhaps Tanaka Yuki's research will provide insight. Perhaps there are other sources we haven't discovered.
Perhaps. The dead kept their secrets.
"Sarnav?" Ishani took his hand. "We won. The seal is safer."
"For now."
"That's all any victory is." She squeezed his hand. "Come rest. Tomorrow we go home."
She was right. It had to be enough.
But as he let her lead him back, Sarnav couldn't shake the feeling that something important had died with The Voice.
The entity is transforming. When it emerges, it will be something new.
He really hoped that was just cult nonsense.
[DAY 96]
[SARNAV: S-RANK (HARMONY SOVEREIGN - FIRST STAGE)] [PROGRESS TO SECOND STAGE: 5%]
[WIFE CULTIVATION STATUS] [1. NISHA - C | 2. ISHANI - D+ | 3. ANANYA - C] [4. MINJI - D | 5. JADE - D+ | 6. SANA - C] [7. JIYEON - C | 8. SERENA - C | 9. ZARA - C] [10. ELENA - S]
[MISSION: ASCENDANCY INTERCEPT - COMPLETE] [THE VOICE FACTION: ELIMINATED] [CONVERTS KILLED: 47 | FLED: 26]
[REMAINING THREATS: 2 ASCENDANCY FACTIONS] [SEAL INTEGRITY: 94.0% (DEGRADING)]
[WIVES BONDED: 10/32]