The illusions came first. Streets bent. Buildings shimmered. Shadows moved against logic. Even the air felt wrong.
Vital Mirage reacted instantly. Jovian barely dodged a phantom strike that could have been fatal.
Lucien stumbled, Midnight Sontana appearing and disappearing, striking at illusions that twisted in impossible ways. Alaric held the frontline, Golden Cavalier deflecting attacks that didn't exist. Iggy darted unpredictably, striking at ghosts to create real openings.
"…Focus!" Jovian barked.
They could not let their minds wander. In this battlefield, perception was deadly.
Every strike, every movement, every dodge was a calculation. One misstep, one pause, and Oblivion would tear them apart.