It wasn’t wind so much as force — pressure slamming against him from every angle, grabbing at cloth and flesh alike, threatening to tear him apart mid-fall. The air screamed in his ears as differential currents twisted around his body, the world turning into a violent, howling blur of motion and noise.
Zara’Kael’s forelimb scythed through the space he had occupied less than a heartbeat earlier.
The oscillation didn’t touch him directly. It didn’t need to.
The presence of the strike erased several inches of his hair in a clean, silent shear, the void where it had been registering before pain could follow. The shockwave arrived a fraction of a second later, slamming into him like a wall and hurling him sideways hard enough to rattle his teeth and blur his vision.
Eric didn’t think.
He reacted.
A tether snapped out, void hardening into a line that wrapped around one of Zara’Kael’s massive legs with a thunderclap of displaced air. He yanked hard, letting gravity and momentum tear him downward as a second tether punched into the overlapping plates of her abdominal carapace. The lines sang under tension, vibration screaming through his arms and shoulders as he shot beneath her towering frame.
Wind roared past him, tearing tears from his eyes.
For a brief, razor-thin instant, the world narrowed to geometry and mass. Eric angled his body, eyes locked on the rear arc of Zara’Kael’s bulk — the only relative dead zone her anatomy afforded. No lightning discharged from there. No forward oscillation reached that far back. Just crushing weight and the threat of gravity.
Space.
Zara’Kael felt him anyway.
Her antennae flared, sensory organs igniting in layered patterns as vibration and pressure painted Eric’s movement in brutal clarity. Every displaced gust, every micro-shift of mass, every disturbance in the air fed her a living, three-dimensional map of his trajectory.
He was small.
He was fast.
He was loud in the ways that mattered.
Zara’Kael anchored.
Her middle and rear legs drove down into asphalt and buried stone, spearing deep until the ground itself protested. Cracks raced outward in spider-web fractures, streets buckling as her mass redistributed. She lifted the front of her body and slammed her full weight straight down.
Eric barely had time to shout Celeste’s name.
The impact detonated.
From Celeste’s vantage, it looked absolute.
Earth folded inward as if struck by a falling star. Asphalt shattered. Rock compressed into itself, shockwaves rippling outward hard enough to flatten already-damaged structures and hurl broken signage down the street. Dust and debris geysered skyward in a choking cloud, momentarily blotting out the stormlight above.
Zara’Kael ground her weight deeper, shifting, pressing, pulverizing everything beneath her. The city screamed — metal tearing, stone collapsing, buried infrastructure snapping like brittle bones.
She rose slowly.
Dust slid from the seams and ridges of her carapace in thick sheets. Pebbles and broken concrete cascaded free, grinding themselves to powder as she pulled upright and roared. The sound tore through the storm like a declaration of dominance, vibrating through buildings and flesh alike.
Lightning answered her call.
Bolts hammered straight down into the crater beneath her, saturating the impact zone with blinding heat. Dirt liquefied in seconds. Stone vitrified. The ground glowed white-hot as molten glass pooled and spread, lightning crawling across its surface in branching veins that sizzled and cracked.
There was no sign of Eric.
Celeste dragged the whirlwind forward.
Sweat slicked her skin, her breath shallow as the cyclone fought her every step. Binding it demanded discipline — a constant, grinding exertion that never relented. Forcing it to move was worse. Wind by its nature sought freedom, expansion, release. Every meter she redirected it was an argument fought against a living force.
The cyclone clawed skyward even as she bent it toward the clingers scrambling across shattered ground.
She glanced back.
Zara’Kael stood triumphant above the crater, stormlight framing her bulk in jagged silhouette. Celeste smirked faintly and looked through the glowing glass, eyes narrowing as she traced movement far below the surface.
Eric was still alive.
A goblin broke free of the wind.
He had been crawling for minutes, daggers stabbed deep into the earth to keep purchase as debris tore past him like shrapnel. Armor rang under constant impacts. Grit peppered his skin, lodged in his teeth, burned his eyes. He endured it with grim focus, breath measured, movements precise.
Survival was arithmetic.
Kill the wind-caster. End the spell. Reduce the variables.
He surged forward, blades raised, boots digging for traction as he broke into a run.
Celeste turned.
She smiled.
The ground beneath the goblin erupted.
A void tendril burst upward, nearly a meter thick, shaped like a colossal dragon’s tail. The terminus slammed into his chest like an opening maw, the impact driving the air from his lungs in a single, panicked scream. Inward-facing talons punched through ribs and torso with a wet, final crunch, pinning him in place.
The tendril slammed him down.
Dragged.
Tugged.
A final sharp pull folded him in half and hauled him screaming into the earth. The sound cut off mid-breath, swallowed by storm and stone, leaving behind a silence that felt final even amid the chaos.
Zara’Kael turned toward Celeste.
Void-light flared.
A thin beam punched straight up through the molten glass as the ground split cleanly. A perfect cylindrical shaft opened, edges smooth and precise, and Eric rose from it on a small disk of void. He came up slowly, arms crossed, expression caught somewhere between disbelief and irritation.
He glanced at the crater.
Then at Zara’Kael.
Then over at Celeste.
“Can you believe she just tried to sit on me to death?”
Zara’Kael answered with motion.
She reared, middle and rear legs anchoring again as pedipalps lifted and aligned. Oscillation settled into a focused, resonant hum. Her forward limbs rose wide and open, posture precise and ceremonial.
Around her head, the runes accelerated.
Their orbit tightened until symbols blurred into a continuous ring of radiant light. The glow sharpened, intensifying into a perfect circle — a luminous crown spinning fast enough to scream against the air.
Lightning gathered from within the storm, drawn inward and condensed.
Eric’s brow tightened.
“Okay,” he muttered. “That’s new.”
Celeste didn’t look away.
“Get us underground,” she said.
“Now.”
Eric wrapped an arm around her waist and dismissed the void disc.
They dropped.
Above them, the halo flared and lightning collapsed inward, forming a vast concave dome of annihilation. Eric and Celeste vanished into the earth an instant before impact.
Stone liquefied. Glass formed. Shockwaves tore outward as the dome slammed down.
Aboveground, only molten glass and firelight remained.
They landed hard.
The drop was short — barely fifteen feet — but the impact still drove the air from Eric’s lungs and sent a cascade of dust and stone rattling down the smooth, cylindrical walls he had carved. The tunnel rang like a struck bell, vibration echoing through layers of fractured earth and buried infrastructure.
Heat followed them down.
Orange light bled along the shaft as molten glass hissed against cooler stone above, glowing rivulets beginning to drip downward in slow, viscous trails. The air thickened immediately, heavy with ozone and scorched mineral, each breath tasting sharp and metallic.
A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
Eric twisted as they hit, boots skidding across uneven ground, one arm locked around Celeste’s waist to keep her from slamming shoulder-first into the wall. They staggered once, then found their footing.
Above them, the world screamed.
Eric pressed his palm flat against the tunnel wall and closed his eyes.
The stone answered.
Vibration translated into mass and intent — heavy, uneven impacts traveling through layers of earth as Zara’Kael stomped and struck overhead. Each step carried frustration, calculation, and fury in equal measure. The rhythm wasn’t random. She was searching.
“She’s not sure we’re dead,” Eric murmured. “But she’s not convinced we’re alive either.”
Celeste wiped sweat from her brow with the back of her wrist. Her breathing was controlled, but tight. Holding the cyclone steady aboveground demanded constant attention; even now, she could feel the strain pulling at her reserves like an open wound.
“She can still feel me,” Celeste said. “Or she thinks she can. Hard to tell with all that residual mana.” She glanced up at the ceiling as another impact rattled loose pebbles and dust. “Either way, she’s narrowing it down.”
The ceiling pulsed brighter as heat seeped through the stone. A crack spidered outward from a glowing seam, molten glass beginning to ooze through like slow blood.
“That’s going to collapse,” Eric muttered.
He turned to face Celeste fully.
“Okay,” he said. “We need a strategy.”
Celeste leaned one shoulder against the tunnel wall, listening to the chaos above. “Most of my wind-based abilities won’t do much to her directly,” she said. “I could cut off her air supply if I knew what she breathes. Or where.”
She tapped her arm once.
Eric stared at her. “What?”
“You lived with them,” Celeste said evenly. “For a year.”
“A year learning their culture,” Eric shot back. “Not their anatomy.”
Celeste’s expression didn’t change. “A year with spider women,” she said flatly. “And you never looked?”
Eric recoiled, genuine offense flashing across his face. “What kind of man do you take me for?”
Celeste met his eyes without blinking.
“I take you for a man.”
Eric opened his mouth.
Closed it.
His shoulders slumped in quiet, comic defeat.
Another impact thundered overhead, close enough that the tunnel shuddered violently. A chunk of stone broke loose and shattered at their feet, glowing faintly as heat licked through the fracture.
“Jokes aside,” Eric said quietly, tone sobering. “What do we do?”
He glanced upward again, watching molten glass drip faster now, the light brightening the confined space inch by inch.
“There are people up there,” he continued. “That gate has to close. We’ve already lost too many.”
Celeste didn’t answer immediately.
She stood still, eyes unfocused, listening to layers of sound and pressure beyond human perception. Above them, Zara’Kael roared — not in triumph this time, but irritation. The sound vibrated through the stone like a threat.
“She’s assuming we survived,” Celeste said at last. “She’s seen you pull this trick before.”
Eric nodded. “Disappear underground, re-emerge somewhere inconvenient.”
“Exactly.” Celeste frowned. “She’s stomping to collapse anything she can. Trying to crush us without knowing where we are.”
Another tremor rippled through the tunnel, closer than before.
“She’s not stupid,” Eric said. “Just… thorough.”
Celeste drew a slow breath.
“I could stop holding back,” she said.
Eric’s head snapped toward her instantly.
“No.”
She held his gaze, unblinking.
“No,” he repeated, firmer. “Absolutely not.”
The word echoed between them, heavy with implication. Heat continued to build as molten glass crawled farther down the shaft, light painting the walls in slow, molten waves.
Celeste exhaled once and let the idea go.
“Then we need another option,” she said.
Eric pressed his palm back to the wall, feeling the vibrations, mapping Zara’Kael’s movements with growing precision. Her steps slowed. Her pattern shifted.
“She’s thinking,” he said. “Which means we don’t have much time.”
He straightened.
“I have an idea,” Eric said. “But I’m going to need your help.”
Celeste turned fully toward him. “What do you need?”
“I need mana,” he said. “A lot of it. As much as you can spare without dropping yourself.” He met her eyes. “Leave yourself enough so that once I make an opening, you can get out.”
Celeste stiffened.
“I’m not letting you go die,” she said. “You know what happens when you do.”
Eric shook his head once. “I’m not planning on dying.”
She stepped closer, voice lowering. “You say that every time.”
“Only because it keeps working.”
Celeste studied him for a long moment, searching his expression for cracks she knew all too well. Above them, the tunnel ceiling hissed as molten glass began dripping in earnest, the stone glowing brighter with every passing second.
“Half,” she said at last.
Eric blinked. “What?”
“I’ll give you half,” Celeste continued. “Enough to do what you need to do. The rest stays with me.”
“For what?” Eric asked, though he already knew.
“To save you,” she replied. “Or pull you out when this goes wrong.”
Eric huffed a quiet laugh. “You don’t have any faith in my plans?”
Celeste’s mouth curved slightly. “This will probably be the twentieth time I’ve had to save you from doing something stupid.”
Eric grinned, tension bleeding off his shoulders. “Stupid that works.”
Celeste rolled her eyes, then placed her hand flat against his chest.
“Don’t make me regret this,” she said.
Mana flowed.
Not in a surge, but in a controlled, deliberate stream — dense, heavy, and precise. It coiled into Eric’s core, tightening and compressing, settling deeper than anything he had drawn since returning to this world. Power accumulated without flaring, pressure building in layers rather than spikes.
Eric hissed softly through his teeth, jaw tightening as he absorbed it.
Above them, Zara’Kael struck again.
The tunnel shook violently. A section of the ceiling cracked open, molten glass spilling downward in a glowing curtain that stopped just short of the floor.
Eric opened his eyes.
Focus sharpened.
“Okay,” he said quietly. “That’ll do.”
Celeste pulled her hand back, swaying slightly but staying upright. “Then let’s make it count.”
Eric nodded once.
“Let’s.”
Aboveground, Zara’Kael prowled the shattered streets with the patience of something that had never needed haste.
The storm’s aftertaste still clung to the air — residual mana saturating the atmosphere in turbulent layers, throwing false signals into her senses. Lightning discharge had left the world raw. Smoke drifted in bruised columns. Dust hung in the wind like ground-up stone waiting for a place to settle.
She turned in place, antennae fanning outward, tasting vibration through the ground and pressure through the air.
Nothing.
Not certainty.
Not prey.
The cyclone still roamed.
It had wandered off its axis like a living thing deprived of guidance, still grabbing bodies and debris in sudden hungry surges. Goblins and Angarians clung to broken pavement, stabbing tools into concrete, digging claws into cracks, surviving by stubbornness and terror. Some lost their grip and vanished upward with a strangled scream. Others slammed back down in broken heaps that still twitched.
Zara’Kael watched it briefly, evaluating.
So much prey wasted.
So many cocoons delayed.
Her attention snapped back to the ground — to the place where Eric had vanished last.
She stomped.
The street buckled under her weight. Buried rebar snapped. A sewer line ruptured somewhere beneath the surface, water and steam venting through newly formed cracks. She stomped again, harder, an attempt to collapse tunnels she could not see.
Still nothing.
But her senses whispered that something was moving below.
A faint disturbance in pressure. A tremor that didn’t match her own steps.
Her mandibles clicked.
She raised a forelimb, oscillation starting to build—then paused.
The world shifted.
Void-light erupted beneath her.
The ground failed all at once.
Street, foundation, buried stone — it broke apart as if the earth had been hollowed out in advance. Cavernous pits opened under her anchored legs, swallowing asphalt, rebar, and broken concrete in roaring cascades. Zara’Kael dropped hard, abdomen slamming into shattered stone as the surface fell away beneath her.
She hissed, not in pain, but outrage.
Before she could rise, the earth split again.
A second eruption of void-light punched upward.
Eric and Celeste burst from the ground in a spiral of darkness and wind, hands locked together as Eric spun, accelerating faster and faster with each rotation. The motion wasn’t graceful. It was violent — a controlled, brutal conversion of mana into momentum.
Celeste’s magic wrapped the rotation, compressing it, sharpening it, turning chaos into a clean launch vector.
Eric released.
Celeste shot skyward.
She screamed into the storm as inertia hurled her upward, wind answering her call and stacking beneath her ascent in successive bursts. Clouds tore and curled around her as she climbed, her silhouette shrinking into a fast-rising point against bruised sky.
Eric hit the ground hard, boots skidding across fractured pavement before he stabilized. He came to rest roughly level with Zara’Kael’s massive frame, separated by shattered earth and broken structures — close enough to see every ridge of her carapace, every twitch of her antennae, every flash of irritation in her many-faceted eyes.
They locked eyes.
Zara’Kael rose, pulling herself out of the collapsed rubble with brute force. Broken concrete slid off her armor. Dust cascaded down her flanks. She brought her forelimbs up, oscillation tightening into a focused hum.
Eric drew power into his hands.
The air around him changed. It didn’t glow. It thickened — pressure folding inward as void gathered with restrained intent.
He was mid-breath when the sky answered first.
The roar rolled in from the west, deep and unmistakable, cutting through storm and battle noise with a predatory mechanical certainty.
Three aircraft streaked into view in tight formation, descending into their run.
A-10s.
Low. Fast. Close enough to see their silhouettes as they dropped under the cloud ceiling.
The battlefield shook as their engines screamed.
Then the guns spoke.
The sound wasn’t a single burst so much as a sustained tear in the atmosphere — a continuous, grinding thunder that vibrated through bone and stone. Streams of high-velocity rounds tore through the air, tracers stitching toward Zara’Kael in dense, relentless lines.
Impact marched across her body.
Explosions bloomed in rapid succession as thousands of rounds struck in cascading impacts, fire and smoke engulfing her bulk. The force hammered her sideways, kinetic energy shoving her off balance, shockwaves rippling outward hard enough to fling debris across the street.
Eric’s coat snapped in the blast wind.
The air filled with burning metal, pulverized stone, and the sharp bite of explosives.
For a heartbeat, Zara’Kael vanished behind smoke.
Then the barrage ended.
The aircraft screamed overhead and climbed away, leaving the battlefield ringing and trembling.
The smoke cleared.
Zara’Kael roared.
Not wounded — irritated.
Her carapace gleamed unmarred, yellow-hinged filaments blazing where the rounds had struck. Mana flared across her surface in rippling shields, absorbing the impacts and bleeding their force away into the ground. The only evidence of the assault was scorched debris and shattered pavement around her.
Eric stared.
“…Huh,” he muttered.
Above them, Celeste climbed.
Clouds thickened and rolled inward as pressure shifted around her ascent. Water vapor condensed unnaturally fast. Temperature plunged. The storm reorganized itself around her rising form as if the sky were being rewritten to match her intent.
The Tactical Operations Center went silent.
No one moved.
Screens flickered with live feeds and sensor data, but the room had narrowed to a single image: a giant spider-like creature standing amid ruin, untouched by one of the United States’ most brutal close-air support platforms.
The RTO’s voice cut through the stillness, clipped and professional despite tension threading every syllable.
“Battle damage assessment complete,” he reported. “A-10 flight conducted full strafing run. High-explosive main gun munitions. Approximately two thousand three hundred rounds expended.”
A pause.
“Reporting zero damage, sir.”
Thomas Caldwell stared at the screen, eyes wide, jaw slack. The feed stabilized — the aircraft’s loitering camera settling enough to show detail: intact armor. Fading glow where rounds had hit. No blood. No fractures. No change.
Behind him, the secure line crackled.
Then the President’s voice exploded through the speakers, spilling over itself in raw, unfiltered outrage.
“What the hell am I looking at?” he demanded. “Because what I’m seeing is three A-10s unloading everything they’ve got into some unholy monstrosity and it didn’t even blink.”
His voice climbed into a tirade, frantic and furious.
“You get that thing dead. I don’t care how. I don’t care what rules you break. You make sure nobody ever asks about this—ever. I want it gone. I want it erased. I want it so dead we go back in time to where it never even happened.”
Rachel stood frozen near the edge of the room, eyes locked on the feed.
She watched seasoned professionals — people who had stared down wars and disasters — struggle to process what they were seeing. Hands hovered over keyboards without typing. Radios went quiet. Even the constant background chatter of operators and analysts faded into nothing.
The room felt compressed by the weight of the impossible.
Somewhere behind her, a voice broke the silence, thin and disbelieving.
“Sir… is that… is that a person?”
The feed zoomed.
High above the battlefield, a single figure climbed through the storm, carving a vertical path through cloud and lightning. Altitude readouts spiked upward at an alarming rate.
“…Is she reaching the stratosphere?” someone whispered.
Clouds collapsed inward.
Vapor condensed.
Pressure and temperature shifted as the storm obeyed a new geometry.
Rachel’s stomach dropped.
She didn’t even realize she’d spoken until her voice landed in the quiet like a verdict.
“We’re in trouble,” Rachel said.
No one argued.
The feed climbed higher.
Then the screen cut to black.
Would you be interested in a Discord for the book?
It’d be a place for chapter discussion, theories, updates, and general hanging out if people want it.
Make a discord for folks to discuss