The disorienting wave of energy that had scattered Edward's team had thrown Sarah and Fenris into a different kind of hell. They landed in a heap, crashing through the brittle, crystalline roof of what looked like a bizarre, underwater cathedral. Shards of the translucent, faintly glowing material rained down around them, tinkling like broken glass. Below them was not a solid floor, but a dense, spongy carpet of phosphorescent moss that cushioned their fall. They were in a vast, circular chamber, its walls lined with towering, pillar-like structures that looked like petrified coral.

A small group of Unchained warriors, a half-dozen of their toughest veterans, had landed with them. They were all shaken and disoriented, but their training kicked in. They formed a defensive circle, their weapons drawn, their eyes scanning the strange, silent chamber.

"Everyone, report!" Fenris barked, her voice a low growl that was half command, half reassurance. She pushed herself to her feet, shaking the glowing dust from her fur. "Injuries?"

A quick check revealed only bruises and minor cuts. They were lucky. But their luck, as always, was a fleeting commodity.

Sarah got to her feet, her heart pounding in her chest. The air here was different, humid and heavy with the scent of ozone and something vaguely metallic. The soft, ambient light from the moss and coral was unsettling, casting long, distorted shadows that seemed to dance at the edge of her vision. She clutched the silver locket Edward had given her, its cool metal a small, tangible piece of comfort in this alien world.

Fenris, however, was struggling. Her beast-kin senses, usually her greatest asset, were a liability here. The city's constant, maddening whispers were a physical torment to her sensitive ears, a high-pitched, nails-on-a-chalkboard shriek that only she could hear. The strange smells were a confusing, overwhelming jumble that gave her no useful information. She was like a master tracker who had suddenly gone deaf and blind.

"I can't get a read on this place," she grunted, her frustration evident. "The air is all wrong. The sounds… they're all mixed up. I can't even tell which way is up."

It was Sarah who first saw the movement.

"Fenris," she whispered, her voice tight with fear, her hand shooting out to grip the brawler's arm. "Look. The walls."

Fenris squinted, her eyes following Sarah's gaze. At first, she saw nothing but the strange, coral-like pillars. But then she saw it too. The shadows on the pillars weren't just shadows. They were moving.

Dozens of them.

Creatures, long and thin like emaciated spiders, were detaching themselves from the pillars. Their bodies were the same color and texture as the coral, a perfect, natural camouflage. They had multiple, double-jointed limbs that ended not in claws, but in adhesive pads, allowing them to scuttle along the walls and ceilings with an unnerving, insect-like speed. Their heads were small and featureless, except for a single, vertical slit that opened to reveal a circular maw filled with needle-sharp teeth.

Before anyone could react, the creatures attacked. They didn't charge across the floor. They dropped from the ceiling and scuttled down the walls, a silent, swarming tide of camouflaged death.

"Shields up! Back to back!" Fenris roared, her momentary disorientation burned away by the familiar, welcome rush of adrenaline.

The Unchained warriors snapped into formation, their shields raised just in time to meet the first wave. The creatures were impossibly fast, their movements jerky and unpredictable. They leaped from walls to floor to ceiling, attacking from all angles at once.

Fenris was a whirlwind of pure, brawling fury. She met the creatures head-on, her new adamantite gauntlets shattering their chitinous hides with thunderous, booming impacts. She was not a graceful fighter. She was a living battering ram, a primal force of destruction. She grabbed one of the creatures mid-leap, her powerful hands crushing its skull, and used its broken body as a club to smash another one against a pillar.

But there were too many of them. For every one she killed, three more would skitter in, their needle-like teeth trying to find a gap in her armor.

Sarah, for the first time in her life, was in the heart of a real battle, with no Edward to stand in front of her. Panic, cold and sharp, threatened to paralyze her. Her hands trembled. She was not a warrior. She was a liability. The thought was a spike of ice in her gut. She fumbled with the artifacts Edward had given her, her mind racing. They amplify your own qualities, he had said. What qualities did she have? Fear? Helplessness?

One of the spider-like creatures, faster than the others, broke through the defensive line. It scuttled directly towards her, its vertical mouth slitting open with a wet, clicking sound.

Time slowed down. Sarah saw the creature's maw, the rows of needle-teeth. She saw the Unchained warrior nearest to her turning, his sword raised, but he was too slow. She was going to die.

And in that moment, something inside her broke. It was not her courage. It was her fear. The terror that had held her captive for so long was suddenly replaced by a surge of pure, defiant anger. Anger at the creature. Anger at the city. Anger at her own helplessness. She would not die here. She would not be the weak link that got them all killed.

She thrust her hand forward, not in an attack, but as a warding-off gesture. She focused all of her will, all of her desperate desire to protect her friends, into the silver locket around her neck.

The locket flared with a brilliant, blinding flash of pure, white light.

It was not an attack. It was a diversion. It was the purest, most concentrated essence of hope and defiance made manifest as light. The creature, a thing of shadow and camouflage, shrieked and recoiled, momentarily blinded by the unexpected glare.

It was only for a split second, but it was enough. The Unchained warrior's sword came down, cleaving the creature in two.

He glanced at Sarah, his eyes wide with surprise behind his helmet's visor, before turning back to the fight.

Sarah stared at her hand, her heart hammering against her ribs. She had done it. She had actually done something. It wasn't much, but it was something. A new, steely resolve began to form in her core. She was not helpless. She had a role to play.

She began to move with the group, staying in the protected center of their formation. She couldn't fight, but she could help. She watched the flow of the battle, her mind, free from the burden of direct combat, seeing things the warriors could not. She saw when a creature was about to flank one of her friends. She saw when a warrior was beginning to tire.

She used the locket again and again. A flash of light to disorient a leaping creature. A sustained, gentle glow directed at a flagging warrior, the calming aura of the artifact seeming to soothe their ragged nerves and steady their hands. She was not a warrior. She was a support unit, a battlefield controller using light and hope as her weapons. Her innocence, once a vulnerability, was hardening into a steely, unwavering resolve.

But the battle was still turning against them. Fenris, the rock of their defense, was beginning to tire. The constant, high-pitched shriek of the city was taking its toll, and her movements were becoming a fraction slower. A creature lunged, its sharp limbs finding a gap between her gauntlet and her pauldron, carving a deep, bleeding gash in her side.

She roared in pain and anger, smashing the creature to a pulp, but the damage was done. They were cornered now, their backs against a massive, impassable coral pillar, the horde of creatures closing in for the final kill.

Fenris stood before Sarah, a living shield, her body battered and bleeding, but her spirit unbroken. "Stay behind me," she growled, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

The alpha of the creature pack, a beast larger and darker than the others, emerged from the swarm. It coiled its long limbs, preparing to launch itself directly at Sarah, the perceived weak point in their defense.

This was it. Fenris braced herself for the final, desperate charge. Sarah prepared her locket for one last, defiant flash.

And then, from the high, dark ledges above them, something fell from the shadows. It was not a creature. It was a volley of black-feathered arrows, silent and impossibly fast. They rained down with pinpoint precision, each one finding the weak joint in a creature's limb, pinning the alpha and its elite guards to the mossy floor.

Before the remaining creatures could react, two figures dropped from the ceiling, landing as softly as cats. They were clad in dark, form-fitting leather, their faces obscured by shadows. They moved with a liquid grace, their twin daggers a blur of silver and black in the dim light.

Selene and two of her best assassins had arrived.

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