Back at the line, the strain was obvious.

  Gravitational pulses rolled outward from the Juggernaut in slow, crushing waves. The air thickened with each one, turning motion heavy and resistant, as if the battlefield itself were sinking into tar. Soldiers fought the weight with every step. Boots scraped and dug into fractured pavement. Muscles locked halfway through swings. Even Will faltered, barriers forming late or bending at wrong angles.

  One soldier dropped toa knee, chest heaving as he struggled just to breathe. Another’s strike slowed enough for a Starspawn to rake his shoulder before a nearby Illuminated cut the creature down.

  Then something changed.

  Not everywhere. But enough.

  A cluster of Starspawn near the northern barricade froze mid-lunge. Their bodies went taut. Heads tilted upward in near unison, drawn toward the center of the battlefield. Toward the Juggernaut.

  Some hissed, low and uncertain. Others twitched, caught between instincts pulling in opposite directions. It looked like hesitation. Like a tether had gone slack, or maybe been pulled too tight.

  Keller saw it immediately.

  He didn’t hesitate.

  “Push them. Now!”

  The army surged forward.

  Railguns cracked through the haze. Obsidian blades flashed. That brief pause was all the Illuminated needed.

  Half a dozen Starspawn fell in seconds, cut down while their focus wavered. The stabilized and advanced, reclaiming ground foot by foot.

  It was a severe victory. Nobody spoke, no celebrations were had.

  Because this victory was just a window. And when it closed, there would only be one enemy left.

  The Juggernaut.

  With the lesser Starspawn disintegrating, the gunline shifted as one. Every railgun pivoted toward the towering mass at the center of the field.

  Charged slugs toe through the smoke in streaks of light, hammering into the Juggernaut’s frame.

  Some shots struck exposed vents and joints. Others slammed into the scarred sections where Kesi had carved weaknesses. A few bites landed deep enough to throw sparks and molten fragments into the air.

  Most though, did nothing.

  One slug evaporated against its heel. Another rang across its armor like a cracked bell. Flashes of light skittered off layered obsidian and vanished into the haze.

  The Juggernaut never slowed.

  It kept walking.

  The firing didn’t stop.

  Not because it was effective.

  Because they had to.

  Because Dorian and Kesi were still climbing its frame, still fighting for inches of damage, and every second the line held was another second they stayed alive.

  And right now, seconds were everything.

  Kesi didn’t slow.

  He streaked across the Juggernaut’s surface, boots skimming molten handholds, axe flashing in tight, efficient arcs. Every weak point he’d identified earlier took another hit. Vents. Seams. Stress fractures already glowing under strain.

  The Juggernaut answered with columns of condensed gravity.

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  Too slow.

  Its arms moved seconds behind him, massive sweeps crashing down where he had been. By the time the blow landed, Kesi was already somewhere else, repositioned, striking again.

  Each hit was shallow. None were decisive on their own. Together, they formed a rhythm. A steady erosion of something that had never been meant to break.

  Below, Dorian landed hard, boots sliding across ash-slick concrete. His chest still ached from the implosion he’d forced earlier. Will stirred behind his ribs like a deep echo.

  It needed fuel.

  He needed more.

  Dorian cut through the battlefield at a sprint, weaving through drifting ash and fallen bodies, eyes scanning for glints of orange. He spotted one to the right, dropped into a slide, snatched it up, and absorbed it without slowing.

  The heat slammed through him, fast and heavy.

  He grunted, stayed upright, kept moving.

  Another Remnant.

  Then another.

  Each one reignited him, pressure stacking behind his sternum, his hands trembling as energy condensed into widening channels.

  Above him, Kesi struck again. The Juggernaut shuddered.

  Dorian broke into a full run.

  The Juggernaut loomed ahead, legs like shifting monoliths. Each step sent shockwaves through the street, rippling ash and cracking pavement.

  Dorian didn’t hesitate.

  Will surged.

  He spread his arms wide and released it.

  Twin spheres of bright blue Will erupted from his palms, slamming into the Juggernaut’s legs. The force collapsed inward on itself, tight and violent. Armor rippled. Cracks spread. One knee dipped, just enough to matter.

  Dorian leapt.

  The landing jarred him, but he caught a jut of fused glass along the creature’s back and hauled himself up. His fingers burned against the heat. He climbed anyway, each movement precise, each grip reinforced with blue-stained Will.

  Kesi’s damage marked the path upward. Split vents. Peeled seams. Fractures glowing like fault lines. Dorian pressed his palm into the first opening.

  Implosion.

  He climbed.

  The second lay beneath a joined spine plate, buried deep.

  Implosion.

  Higher still. A heat fracture under the shoulder column.

  He braced, planted his palm, and released everything he had left.

  Implosion.

  Three charges.

  Placed.

  The Juggernaut took another step.

  Then its legs failed.

  The first detonation crushed inward at the knees. Already weakened supports folded, and the massive frame lurched.

  The second followed a heartbeat later. A shockwave blasted from its back, obsidian shards tearing free and rocketing skyward.

  The third needn’t announce itself.

  The world itself seemed to blink.

  Blue Will fire pulsed through the Juggernaut’s chest as its spine collapsed. The bonds holding it together failed all at once.

  Cracks webbed through its core, glowing brighter with every fraction of a second.

  Then it gave way.

  The Juggernaut folded inward. Massive arms sagged. Layered armor delaminated from ash-glass muscle. Its torso collapsed like a dying star, and the rest followed, disintegrating in waves.

  Heat and force surged outward. Ash, vapor, and shattered plating washed across the street, flattening what remained.

  Then there was nothing.

  Only wind.

  And a shape where the Juggernaut had stood.

  A Remnant.

  Huge.

  Serrated. Pure orange, veined with flickers of white light. It pulsed once, heavy and deliberate.

  Dorian dropped from the fractured spine ridge, boots crunching onto ash and glass.

  Kesi limped toward him through the smoke. Bruises darkened his body, muscles visibly overworked, but he stayed upright.

  Neither of them spoke.

  Not for a while.

  Dorian stepped closer to the Remnant, stopping a few feet away. Heat radiated off it like an open kiln.

  Kesi whistled softly. “Those orbs,” he said. “That was new.”

  Dorian flexed his fingers. Faint blue Will still shimmered along his skin. “It felt like my Will had somewhere to go. I didn’t plan for it. I just…needed it out.”

  Kesi nodded, then looked at the massive Remnant, nearly the size of a torso, its hum thickening the air.

  “How were you moving like that?” Dorian asked.

  Kesi’s grin tugged at one corner of his mouth. “My body reacted before I could think. Everything slowed down I adjusted mid-swing, mid-step, without trying.”

  Dorian studied him. “Your Will’s flaring yellow.”

  Kesi shrugged, “And you’re blue now. And yeah, it didn’t feel fast when I was using it. It felt clear.”

  Kesi gestured toward the Remnant. “You killed it. It’s yours.”

  Dorian raised a brow. “You sure?”

  “You planted the charges. I just opened some seams.”

  Kesi stepped back. “And I’ve got enough new problems for one day.”

  Dorian approached.

  The Remnant pulsed again.

  Waiting.

  He reached out. The heat didn’t warn him off. it challenged him.

  The moment his fingers touched it, the Remnant flared.

  Light surged through him, white and orange braided around a deeper pressure. The energy sank. Heavy. Relentless.

  Then darkness.

  When Dorian came to, the world felt…lower.

  He was on the floor of a tent.

  Dorian gasped, air burning his throat.

  Kesi crouched nearby, quietly healing bruises with Will. He glanced up. “You alive?”

  “Feels like it,” Dorian said, sitting up slowly.

  “You were out fifteen minutes. I was debating stealing your boots.”

  Dorian didn’t answer. He was mapping himself, feeling new density, wider channels, reinforced paths.

  Seventy-five, no eighty from the five I took off the ground.

  “That thing gave at least twenty-five.”

  “Remnants?” Kesi responded.

  “Yeah, but it’s more than that. I can hold more Will now. It drains slower.”

  Kesi tilted his head. “Like bigger lungs?”

  “Bigger container,” Dorian said quietly.

  Kesi exhaled. “No wonder it came in hot.”

  Dorian stood. He was exhausted, but intact. The kind of tired that meant you survived something you shouldn’t have.

  Eighty Remnants burned inside him.

  And there was still room for more.