Chapter 92 – The Red Moon Rising

  Seven’s Approach

  The forest was quiet—too quiet.

  Snow muffled everything, but the silence felt alive. The air itself buzzed with a low vibration that made Seven’s teeth ache.

  He crouched, brushing frost from his sleeve. A faint red haze coiled around the roots of the trees like veins of smoke. He could smell it before he saw it—metallic, almost sweet, humming with mana.

  “What the hell is this…” he muttered. The mist tingled across his skin, prickling like static. His instincts screamed move, but curiosity anchored him.

  A mechanical hum cut through the wind. Seven turned, rifle snapping to aim.

  A cloaked figure stood in the drifting haze, watching him. The figure didn’t flinch, didn’t reach for a weapon. Only the faint glow of a number burned through the hood—76.

  Seven's breath hitched in surprise. “Wait a minute… you’re not from the Guild, are you? And there’s no way you’re local!”

  The man let out a soft chuckle, a sound that was oddly human yet somehow unsettling. “No,” he replied, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “And neither are you.”

  Seven’s mark pulsed once in recognition. The same frequency. The same unnatural resonance.

  “You…” His voice dropped. “You’re like me, are you? from Earth?”

  76 tilted his head, studying him with unsettling calm. “An anomaly, like me. But you show promise. The others weren’t as fortunate.”

  Seven’s jaw tightened. “ Wait, Others?”

  76 smiled faintly. “You didn’t think you were the first one the Guild found, did you? Or the only one they kept?”

  The words hit like ice. Rumors of the Guild rescuing other numbered humans—and hiding information from him. But why?

  “You did this,” Seven said. “The mist. The beasts—”

  The ground trembled. A roar—raw, gurgling, unnatural—split the air. A Frostbeast crashed through the trees, its fur laced with glowing veins of crimson.

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  A glint of satisfaction appeared in 76’s eyes. “Looks like my efforts are finally turning heads,” they said with a hint of pride.

  He turned, voice drifting as he walked away. “We’ll meet again, 07. Let’s see how long you last. I still need battle data after all. So please put on a good show, will you?”

  Seven raised his rifle, fired—but the shot cut through smoke and shadow. The cloak dissolved into mist.

  Then the beast lunged.

  Blood and Moonlight

  The Frostbeast’s claws ripped through the air where Seven had stood. He rolled aside, snow exploding around him.

  The creature was monstrous—twice the size of a bear, eyes glowing red, steam venting from its wounds as it snarled. The red mist poured from its mouth like breath.

  Seven braced himself, fingers steady on the rifle's grip. “Not today,” he muttered under his breath. “The Guild will face the music. I’m determined to get my answers—after I make it through this frozen hell.”

  He fired once—a blue flare, precise impact. The bullet punched through its chest, but the wound sealed instantly, frost knitting over mana-infused flesh.

  “Great. Healing factor.”

  He switched tactics, feeding mana through his bionic arm into the rifle’s core. The weapon whined, heat building beneath his palm.

  Boom.

  The next round detonated mid-impact, shredding through the Frostbeast’s chest. The explosion sprayed molten ice and glowing blood across the snow. The beast staggered, screamed, and collapsed, steam pouring from its corpse.

  Seven exhaled deeply, his breath coming out in labored puffs. "This isn't normal... It’s far from natural."

  Then—another roar. Higher-pitched. Feminine. Painful.

  His blood ran cold. “Fluffy…”

  He broke into a sprint.

  The Guild Hall

  Back in Novastra, the War Rabbit Guild’s command floor erupted into chaos.

  Monitors flickered crimson; every drone feed shimmered with static. The air smelled faintly of ozone and burnt mana.

  Lola’s voice cracked through the noise. “Multiple signatures spiking across the eastern sector! All readings are unstable—something’s spreading through the environment!”

  Miss Hopps’ ears snapped upright. “Show me the northern feeds—now!”

  Raven’s screen zoomed in on red-tinged forests, W.M.B.s tearing through the snow in mindless panic. “It’s everywhere. Even docile creatures are attacking anything that moves.”

  Lord Deogon stood next to her, his face ghostly white. “They’re heading south,” he warned, voice tense. “Straight toward the city.”

  Raven nodded grimly. “Straight toward Novastra.”

  General Rorik slammed a gauntleted fist into the console. “The barrier won’t stop them if they’re not attacking deliberately! It filters malice, not instinct!”

  Miss Hopps turned sharply. “Luro, status on the drones!”

  Luro’s fingers flew over glowing runes. “I’m trying, but the mist’s mana field is corrupting the detection grid! It’s reading as null energy! We can’t track or repel it!”

  The council chamber fell silent. Even the hum of the crystals seemed to fade.

  Then Ripper stepped forward from the shadows. The old War Rabbit’s voice was gravelly, but steady.

  “Ten years ago, this city begged for our help when beasts tore its walls apart. We stood between the wild and your barrier then, and we’ll do it again.”

  His eyes narrowed, the crest on his cloak faintly glowing. “You wanted a reason why the Guild exists? This is it. We fight what the city can’t.”

  Miss Hopps nodded once. “Activate the alert network: every squad, every veteran. Contain the eastern sector. No civilian leaves the walls.”

  The Peace Councilor Elara stood, her hands trembling slightly as she addressed the assembly. “But what if this mist begins to spread—”

  “It’s already started,” Hopps interrupted, her voice determined. “We need to take action now—let’s stop it before it even gets to the gates.”

  Outside, the sky over Novastra shimmered faintly red. The barrier hummed—not in warning, but in confusion. It sensed no hostility.

  Only hunger.

  The Wildlands burned with moonlight. The red haze pulsed through the trees, alive like a heartbeat.

  Fluffy moved within it—fast, erratic, her twin blades streaking arcs of silver and red. Frostbeast carcasses littered the snow behind her, but her breathing was ragged, her aura unstable. Each swing of her swords sparked fragments of crimson light.

  Far across the valley, Seven raced toward the cave—the epicenter. His boots slammed through the drifts, breath frosting in the cold. Every fiber of his being screamed that time was running out.

  He didn’t yet know what waited for him.

  Only that the moon was red, the mist alive, and his friend might already be gone.