The city was silent again, but the silence was deceiving. Broken streets and toppled walls bore the marks of the previous fights. Dust lingered in the air, thick and suffocating. Every shadow seemed alive, waiting.
Jovian moved forward cautiously, Vital Mirage close, attuned to his every thought. Each step was deliberate. Every glance calculated.
Lucien leapt between rooftops, Midnight Sontana flickering in and out, probing the skyline for movement. Alaric maintained a solid stance in the center, Golden Cavalier radiating a steady aura of protection. Iggy ran ahead, sniffing the air, sensing dangers invisible to the others.
Then they struck. Not all at once, but in waves. Shadows twisted unnaturally, energy radiating from unknown sources. Each attack was precise, designed to divide attention and exploit hesitation.
Vital Mirage reacted immediately, intercepting strikes with sharp counters. Jovian parried and lunged, movements blending instinct and strategy.
"…They're stronger than before," Lucien muttered.
Jovian shook his head. "They're learning. But so are we."
Every clash left echoes in the streets. Every sound carried weight. The fight wasn't over—it had only deepened.