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Ash follows a breath later, his power crashing down like an unseen weight, forcing several enemies to their knees. I feel my own energy surge through my veins, ready to strike until one of them moves differently.

A soldier in dark armor strides forward unfazed, his steps steady even under Ash’s crushing force. I barely have time to process it before he lifts a hand, fingers curling into a fist.

A pulse of magic erupts from him, and suddenly, the air around us shifts, twisting, pressing. It isn’t an explosion, and it isn’t a direct attack. It’s the sensation of the ground itself rejecting us.

I stagger back, my balance thrown off as the world seems to lurch beneath me. What is this? Some kind of spatial warping? A resistance field? It is like the very air fights against my movements, as if the space around us has thickened.

Ash grits his teeth and pushes against the force, but his power falters, his gravity unable to take hold the way it should.

Zander adjusts quickly, launching into the fight without hesitation, his blade meeting steel as he clashes with two soldiers at once.

I hesitate.

For just a second, my mind isn’t in the battle. It is still tangled in everything that happened before this moment.

And that second costs us.

The soldier’s hand jerks toward Ash, and the space around him buckles.

I watch, horror tightening in my chest, as Ash suddenly stumbles, his usual effortless movements thrown off. The force that was pressing against us condenses around him, twisting in on itself. His balance is gone.

One of the soldiers lunges.

I snap back to the present, but I am too slow.

Ash barely manages to lift his arms before the strike hits, his defenses down for the first time I can remember.

And all because I hesitated. Panic and fury surge through me in equal measure. No more distractions. No more doubts. I summon my power, my vision narrowing in on the soldier who dares to lay a hand on my friend.

I lunge, power surging through my veins, crackling to life in a rush of raw force. The soldier who struck Ash barely has time to react before I slam into him with a wave of energy. He is lifted off his feet and thrown back, hitting the ground hard with a sickening crunch.

Zander moves like a phantom, his blade cutting through the air in precise, brutal arcs. Another soldier falls, blood spraying across the packed dirt, and for a moment, it feels like we are gaining control of the fight.

Then everything twists.

The warping soldier flexes his fingers, and suddenly, space itself seems to constrict around us.

I gasp as an invisible force wraps around my limbs, dragging me down. My power sputters uselessly, locked inside me. I strain, but I can’t move.

Zander is locked in place beside me, his sword frozen mid-swing, veins bulging in his arms from the effort of fighting against the unseen bonds.

Ash curses, struggling, his teeth bared in frustration. His power requires motion, and without it, he is helpless.

The soldier steps forward, his expression impassive as he tightens his grip on whatever force he is wielding. I can feel it constricting around my chest, stealing the breath from my lungs.

Panic claws at me, cold and sharp. We are losing.

I try to summon my power, try to reach for something, anything, but I am trapped, helpless as I watch the blood dripping from Zander’s arm, the way Ash’s breath hitches in pain as the force squeezes tighter.

No. No, no, no. I won’t let this happen.

I feel it then, the fear, the desperation, it coils in my chest, raw and burning, a scream building in my throat. My vision blurs, a pulse of agony searing through my skull as something inside me snaps.

And then I let go.

The scream tears from me, but it isn’t just a sound. It is power.

The air ripples, space itself fracturing like shattered glass. The force binding me collapses in an instant, replaced by a raw, concussive energy that breaks through the world around us.