The wolves struck like a tide.
Clive's boots sank into the hot sand as the Alpha's snarl split the air. The beast was massive, nearly taller than him at the shoulder, its black-and-silver fur bristling like steel quills. Its amber eyes gleamed with intelligence, tracking every twitch of his sword arm.
"Stay behind me!" Clive barked to Lunafreya, then surged forward with a roar. His greatsword cleaved down, sparks flying as the Alpha's claws met his blade mid-swing. The impact rattled his bones, the force driving him back a step.
Luna's staff flared. "Sanctuary!" A shield of shimmering light wrapped around Clive just as the Alpha's jaws snapped. Its teeth clanged against her barrier instead of his throat. She staggered, the spell nearly buckling.
Clive shoved the wolf back, sweat beading on his brow. "This one's mine."
The Alpha's lips curled in a snarl, as though it understood.
Across the sands, Serah, Vivi, and Auron slammed into the wolf pack.
Serah's pink hair whipped as she raised Mog's bowsword form, arrows streaking like meteors. Every shot struck a wolf, staggering them back, buying space for the Resistance fighters to regroup. "Go down already!" she shouted, loosing another volley.
Mog groaned from blade-form. "Thirty of them, kupo! Thirty! You always drag me into these messes!"
"Less whining, more shooting!" Serah retorted.
Vivi stood small beside her, wide-brimmed hat nearly hiding his glowing eyes. His staff sparked as he thrust it into the sand. "Thundara!" Bolts of lightning ripped across the pack, frying fur and flesh, wolves convulsing as smoke rose from their bodies.
The Resistance soldiers, stunned by the display, found their courage again. The captain, his armor dented and bloodied, bellowed, "The gods didn't betray us, men! Fight with them!"
His six surviving fighters tightened their circle. Two remained planted by the wounded and the healer, blades flashing at any wolf that slipped through. Three pale but determined men, their injuries bound hastily, staggered upright to rejoin the fight. The captain himself rallied the remaining three, charging into the fray with renewed ferocity.
Auron moved through the melee like death itself. His crimson coat flared in the gale, his great curved blade carving wide arcs. Each swing was deliberate, heavy, felling two and three wolves at once. His face was stone, his single visible eye cold.
"Your guard's sloppy," he muttered as he cleaved another beast in half. "You'll die if you don't watch your flanks."
One of the Resistance men swallowed hard, nodding quickly. "Y-yes, sir!"
Amalia, crouched in the circle as she healed, dared a glance outward. What she saw made her heart pound.
Clive fought like a knight, but not of Dalmasca. His stance was unfamiliar, his style alien — protective, heavy, born of battles far away.
Lunafreya's magicks shimmered with a divine resonance, more sacred than any white magick Amalia had ever seen. They carried the weight of a priestess, not a common mage.
The child mage's spells crackled with raw ancient energy, sharper than anything known in Ivalice. It frightened her even as it dazzled.
The girl with pink hair fought with a weapon that lived — a moogle who shifted between companion and blade. Serah's bow-sword sang with power no smith in any kingdom could replicate.
And the crimson warrior… every motion radiated discipline. His stance reminded her of a general, but his armor bore no nation's crest.
Who are you? Amalia thought, hands trembling as she wove another cure. These are no Dalmascans. No Archadians. Not even Rozarrians.
The wolves pressed harder. Fangs snapped, claws slashed, sand stained red. Resistance soldiers screamed as jaws found flesh. The Alpha lunged at Clive, its claws scraping across Luna's barrier, cracking it like glass.
"Clive!" she gasped.
He roared, swinging upward, his blade slamming against its muzzle and forcing it back. Blood sprayed, hot against his cheek.
But the pack was endless. Even as Vivi's lightning dropped more wolves, more circled. Serah fired arrow after arrow, each strike piercing fur, but the beasts still came. Mog growled between transformations, his pom-pom glowing with fury. "There's nyo end to them!"
Then, cutting through the cacophony, came a sound that made even the Alpha hesitate.
A shriek tore the sky apart.
The Vulturo descended like a storm given wings. Its vast shadow blotted out the sun, gale winds blasting across the battlefield. Its talons gouged into the sand, scattering wolves and men alike. Feathers cut like blades as they rained down.
Clive's head snapped up, his jaw tightening. "Oh, that's just great."
Vivi's staff shook in his small hands. "We can't fight the wolves and that thing at the same time!"
Serah's eyes narrowed. Her grip tightened on Mog. "Then I'll fight the Vulturo. I'll make it stay this time!"
Mog squeaked in horror. "Nyo, kupo! Not me again! I refuse to be bird bait!"
But she was already sprinting toward the shadow.
The Resistance men near the healer gaped. One shouted hoarsely, "Wait, girl!"
Amalia rose, abandoning the circle. Her staff glowed as she ran after Serah, determination burning in her eyes.
The captain saw her leave and roared. "Amalia! Stay with the wounded!"
But she didn't look back.
Serah skidded to a halt when she saw the healer at her side. "What are you doing here?"
Amalia's reply was sharp, defiant. "I'll ask you the same."
For a heartbeat, the two women locked eyes in the gale.
"My name's Serah," the girl said.
"Amalia," the healer answered, her grip tightening on her staff.
The Vulturo shrieked, wings beating storms into the desert. Together, they raised their weapons and braced to face the monster head-on.