"That thing's persistent. I'll give it that," Masato said, his grin widening as his gaze stayed locked on the Malform. It hovered midair as if standing on an invisible platform, dark blades extended at its sides.
"Masato. Carelessness and overconfidence will only result in unnecessary casualties—yourself included," Theo replied evenly. "Malforms aren't mindless predators driven by instinct. They possess calculated awareness. Far more than most assume."
Theo's tone carried experience rather than doubt. He knew Masato well enough to understand that beneath the humor and bravado was discipline forged through years of combat. Masato hadn't earned his position as a senior Vanguard—and professor—through recklessness alone.
Masato rolled his shoulder once, never taking his eyes off the target. "C'mon, Theo, you know I ain't sloppy," he said, a smirk tugging at his mouth. "I see exactly what it is. I'm just sayin'… I'm about to drop this ugly freak so hard it forgets why it crawled outta that crack in the sky."
He brought his bare fist down into the palm guarded by his bracer, the metal clanking sharply. Then he set his stance, grounding himself, confidence unwavering.
"I'm not concerned about you," Theo replied calmly. "I'm concerned about them. You may be able to confront that entity directly, but our trainees are not prepared for a threat of this classification."
There was no accusation in his voice—only responsibility. Theo's attention shifted briefly to the Vanguards positioned behind them. What he saw wasn't cowardice, but inexperience: tightened grips on weapons, shallow breathing, eyes fixed on the Malform with fear they were trying—and failing—to hide.
"Excuse me, Mr. Theo."
Lexa stepped forward before the silence could deepen, one hand resting lightly against her chest while the other held her katana steady at her side, blade angled past her hip. She straightened despite the tension in the air.
"Even if some of us look uncertain," she continued, her voice controlled but firm, "we chose this path. We committed ourselves to the Vanguard Institute knowing what it meant. We understand the risks. And we're not stepping back just because the threat is higher than expected."
Her grip tightened slightly around the hilt. "You trained us for this."
Theo held Lexa's gaze for a moment longer, measuring the steadiness in her expression. The fear was there—he could see it—but it wasn't controlling her. It was acknowledged, contained. Beneath it sat resolve. She wasn't pretending to be fearless. She was choosing to stand anyway. After a brief silence, Theo gave a small nod, accepting her words.
Masato let out a low whistle, a grin spreading across his face. "Heh—now that's what I'm talkin' about," he said, amused pride slipping into his tone. "Guess I didn't waste all those training hours after all." He chuckled under his breath. "Gotta admit, Lexa… first time I saw you swing a blade, I didn't peg you for much. Thought you'd quit in a week. But damn, I was way off."
He tilted his head slightly, still smirking. "Now I know exactly who I trained."
Lexa inclined her head respectfully, confidence steady. "Thank you, Mr. Masato."
Theo let out a slow breath, eyes drifting over the line of Vanguards behind them. Most of them had been shaped under Masato's instruction—pushed, corrected, tested until they either broke or hardened. Whatever flaws they still carried, they understood what standing here meant. That alone told him enough.
He straightened, voice steady and clear enough to carry across the fractured plaza.
"Vanguards—formation advance. Lock ranks. No retreat!" His eyes hardened as his hand lifted just slightly.
The Vanguards behind the front line responded instantly, tightening formation and readying their weapons. Theo stood firm beside Masato, maintaining control of the field while the Malform remained suspended in the air, watching. It hadn't attacked again.
It was searching.
Then its focus shifted.
Its head turned slowly toward one section of the academy complex—the wing that housed the medical facilities. Its dark resonance tightened, gaze narrowing with sudden intent. It had found something.
Theo noticed the change immediately. His eyes followed the direction of its stare, calculating.
"The examination wing…?" he murmured under his breath, confusion flickering across his otherwise composed expression. "What could possibly draw a Malform there?"
The answer came a second later.
Without warning, the Malform launched forward. It cut through the air at extreme speed, its movement sharp and controlled, body streamlining like a jet slicing through storm clouds. Rain scattered violently in its wake, the air behind it warping as it accelerated straight toward the building.
Theo reacted instantly.
"Vanguards! Target shift!" His voice rang out across the plaza as he swung his arm forward in command. "It's heading for the examination room! Intercept immediately—do not let it breach!"
The order rippled through the formation.
Lexa froze for a fraction of a second, the words hitting her harder than the others.
"The examination room…?" Her eyes widened as realization crashed in. She turned sharply toward the building. "Wait—no… that means."
Her grip tightened around her katana.
"Takumi's what it's after!"
Theo extended his hand toward the fractured ground, and a coil of green resonance unspooled from behind him, winding outward like a living tether. The energy thickened as it expanded, folding in on itself until it solidified into a massive construct—a giant hand forming at the end of the luminous cord, fingers flexing once as it tightened into shape.
"Watch out!" a Vanguard shouted.
The warning came too late.
The Malform blurred forward, vanishing and reappearing in the same breath as its blades swept across one of the advancing Vanguards. The man barely managed to raise his weapon before the strike cut clean through his guard. A sharp arc of dark energy sliced across his abdomen and sent him crashing backward, armor scraping against stone as he was thrown from the line.
The Malform didn't slow.
It shot forward again, cutting through the rain like a streak of black lightning, its trajectory fixed on the academy building—on the examination wing beyond it.
Theo's arm snapped sideways.
The colossal green hand surged across the plaza, fingers spreading wide in an attempt to snatch the Malform out of the air. But the creature twisted sharply mid-flight, skimming past the construct by a narrow margin. The tether tightened instantly as Theo clenched his fist.
The hand reshaped.
Its fingers curled inward, compressing into a massive fist that drove forward with crushing force. The Malform reacted at the last second, crossing its bladed arms in defense. The green construct slammed directly into the center of those blades, resonance colliding with resonance in a violent burst of force.
The impact hurled the Malform away from the examination wing, its body flung backward through the air as the shockwave rippled outward.
It recovered almost immediately.
Flipping once, twice, it caught itself midair as if sliding along an invisible surface, dark energy stabilizing its form. Its head turned without hesitation—no anger, no distraction—its focus still locked on the same destination.
The examination room.
It didn't glance back at Theo nor acknowledge the Vanguards. It vanished again, launching forward in a straight, merciless blitz toward its target.
Lexa didn't hesitate.
The moment the Malform shifted its path toward the examination wing, she moved.
Her heel struck the ground and she launched forward, body dropping low into a full sprint. The katana at her side slid free in one clean motion—and instead of steel glinting in the rain, something else answered her call.
Blood.
It flowed from the edge of her blade as if drawn from nowhere, deep crimson and alive, spilling into the air before snapping into shape. It didn't fall. It followed. It curved behind her in a streaming arc like a living banner caught in violent wind.
Each step she took pressed harder into the plaza, boots cracking fractured stone as the crimson trail spiraled around her frame. The blood didn't drip—it sharpened, stretching into thin whips that flicked and recoiled in rhythm with her momentum. Her eyes locked forward, violet glare steady, breath measured.
The rain touched the blood and evaporated on contact.
She raised her blade mid-stride and the flowing stream condensed, thickening into layered rings that circled her arm like rotating halos. With a sharp flick of her wrist, the rings compressed and surged into a single, crescent-shaped wave of crimson energy—a blood-forged slash that roared outward ahead of her.
The Malform reacted instantly.
Its bladed arm snapped up, dark resonance condensing into a defensive edge as it met her attack head-on. The clash split the air with a violent screech—green and red lightning bursting outward from the point of impact.
For a fraction of a second, they held.
Then Lexa stepped through it.
Her body twisted mid-air, blade carving downward with precise, merciless intent. The crimson crescent didn't stop at the block—it sheared through the Malform's left arm. The limb melted where the blood touched it, dark resonance dissolving into scattered particles before the severed arm disintegrated completely.
She followed through in the same motion, pivoting her grip and driving the blade across the Malform's neck. The strike cut clean. Its head separated in a sharp arc, dissolving into unstable resonance as it dropped from its shoulders.
The body faltered midair.
Before gravity could claim it, the remaining stream of blood behind Lexa condensed into hardened spikes—dozens of them—and launched forward. They pierced straight through the Malform's torso, pinning it in place, crimson shafts embedding deep into its unstable core.
For a brief moment, the creature hung suspended in the air—skewered, destabilized, incomplete.
Lexa hit the fractured stone and slid several feet across the slick surface, boots grinding against broken concrete before she planted her heel and forced herself to a stop, snapping her gaze back toward the Malform still suspended in the air behind her.
The blood retracted toward her in thin threads, leaving the impaled Malform writhing behind her in the rain—damaged, restrained, but far from defeated.
"Now that's more like it," Masato shouted with a sharp grin, pride clear in his voice. "That's the kind of strike I taught you, Lexa."
To be continued…