"Guys…" Simma's voice came out as quiet as it could, yet sharp enough to slice through the noise of their thoughts. It pulled Lucy and Sarah's attention immediately.

Just then, the horse neighed violently, its muscles tightening with terror, and it bolted. Hooves hammered against the damp ground.

Lucy's instincts snapped into place, she yanked her arm forward, a portal blooming like a violet wound in midair. The horse, without hesitation, galloped straight into it and vanished through the light.

Both girls turned their eyes sharply back to Simma. They could tell at once: something was wrong. His posture, his eyes, the stiffness in his shoulders all screamed of danger.

Sarah winced, her arrogance breaking through her fear.

"What?" she bellowed, her voice echoing too loud for this kind of place.

"Shhh!" Simma hissed, urging her, his eyes darting frantically around. He didn't even glance at her, his senses were tuned so fiercely to the forest that the hairs on the back of his neck were standing upright like soldiers ready for war.

That was when they noticed where the teleport had landed them.

A thick, soupy fog had swallowed the entire space. It coiled between the trees, wrapping around them like ghostly fingers. Just a few meters away, everything vanished into impenetrable white.

The forest beyond was hidden, trees and things lurking behind them completely swallowed by the mist.

The ground was damp, slick with a moisture that clung to their boots. The earth smelled like rot, and each step made a sound too loud in the silence, as though the soil itself didn't want them there.

The trees themselves were dreadful. Their trunks looked dark, as if smoke had been rubbed into their bark. Their twisted branches reached out like skeletal claws, and even the leaves above were tainted, dull and shadowed, drooping as though the life had been bled from them.

The place was creepy as hell. A forest that looked more like a graveyard painted in ash.

Lucy's body trembled. For the first time in a while, her confidence cracked.

"Wh-what is going on?" she whispered.

Neither Simma nor Sarah answered. Simma bent low, ear tilted slightly, listening... not just to sound, but to the absence of it. The woods breathed strangely, too still, too heavy.

Then it came.

"Watch out!" he yelled, his voice cutting the silence like a blade. He dove forward, his hand shooting out, and gripped something midair.

Everything froze.

The pointed edge of a spear hung only half an inch from Lucy's forehead. Its black tip glistened with a malice so thick it seemed alive.

The spear was old, ancient, its wood cracked and dark with decay, yet its sharp edge gleamed like a fresh wound.

Lucy's breath hitched. Her heart pounded so hard it echoed in her ears.

But before she could even scream, the spear dissolved. With a hiss like whispering shadows, it turned into smoke, curling between Simma's fingers and vanishing into the mist.

Lucy staggered back, pressing her palm against her chest as though she could cage her heart from bursting out. But what followed next nearly made her skeleton leap out of her body.

From the fog ahead stumbled a figure.

Not a man. Not anymore.

A dead man.

His flesh was rotted through, sagging in grotesque folds. Maggots clung to the meat of his skin, squirming in and out like vile threads stitching him together.

Each movement dislodged more chunks of decayed flesh, dropping wetly onto the damp ground. His armor clung in rusted fragments, crusted with filth and soil so black it looked like humus. The smell hit them first; thick, pungent rot that stabbed up their nostrils, making the air itself taste like vomit.

And in its hand reappeared the same spear Simma had just caught.

It growled. The sound wasn't human. It was low and guttural, vibrating like broken glass grinding against stone. The noise itself felt like death, crawling down their spines.

It launched its spear forward, straight for Simma.

Simma spun aside with inhuman reflex, his eyes flashing blue as his essence stirred.

In his hand, his sword shimmered into existence, an ethereal blade glowing with cerulean fire. His body whirled like a storm as he slashed across the creature's middle. The blade met rotting flesh, cut through, and the damned soul shrieked before collapsing into a plume of choking black smoke.

"Oh my God, oh my God!" Lucy's voice cracked, her dagger, which she just summoned, trembling in her hand. "What… what was that?"

Simma staggered from the impact of his strike, crouching low, sweat beading at his brow. His chest rose and fell raggedly.

"T-that thing…" he said between gasps. "That thing is a damned soul. N-no essence. No nothing. It just kills… and damns more souls."

Sarah's bravado slipped, her own panic breaking through. Her knuckles whitened on her sword.

"Hell, we've got to get outta here! I... I can't fight damned zombies!" she stuttered, her voice higher than she wanted.

Simma opened his mouth to answer, but then...

The forest screamed.

Shrieking cries split the fog, a chorus of agony. The sound made the air itself vibrate. And from all directions, shapes leapt out—more of the damned.

Rusted armor, shattered helmets, weapons caked in rot. Each one more disgusting than the last. Flesh torn, limbs missing, faces crawling with worms.

Simma's lungs felt like they were being punched empty.

"Girls," he growled, voice strained but unyielding.

"We have to fight."

The first one reached him, a hulking brute wielding a hammer. It swung with terrible force, but Simma rolled to the side, mud splattering across his cloak. He glimpsed Sarah's purple sword gleaming, Lucy's trio of daggers glowing violet, and then threw himself back to his feet, cleaving the brute down the middle. Smoke swallowed it.

Another roared toward him. Simma dropped into a slide, dirt spraying as he cut upward through the legs of one zombie, slicing it into a dissolving mist.

His momentum carried him under the sword of another. With one smooth rotation on the ground, he kicked its legs out, the rotten body collapsing in a heap. Before it hit the ground, his sword drove through its chest, and another burst of smoke.

Another rose behind him. He didn't hesitate. Simma spun, plunging his sword sharply backward, the tip driving through its belly. Smoke gushed from the wound, swallowing it whole.

But more where coming. Too many of them.

Two rushed him at once, weapons high. With a backward leap, Simma flipped through the air. The two collided with each other, snarling, their bodies collapsing into mist as their weapons clattered uselessly.

Landing light, Simma hurled his glowing blade across the fog. It spun with violent speed, cutting down three more as it arced, their screams drowned by the hiss of smoke.

His eyes blazed brighter, lightning dancing around him in crackling veins. With a roar, he spun at the center of the battlefield, as blue lightening exploded outward in a jagged storm, frying the damned that were rushing forward.

Sarah fought on her side with brutal grace. A spear barely missed her, flying past to impale another soul behind her. She flowed like water, her movements sharp and devastating, purple light trailing from her blade as she carved through rotted bodies.

When she saw an opening, she dropped low and pressed her palm against the ground. Her eyes glowed an amethyst fury.

The forest floor responded, every leaf shivered, glowing purple before sharpening into silver needles. With a sudden shriek, they launched upward and downward in unison, impaling the souls in droves. One by one, they burst into smoke, the needles piercing every inch of their corrupt flesh

The forest itself became her weapon.

But...

One slipped through, charging at her blind spot, sword raised.

Grrrrr!

Her lion burst from essence in a storm of golden light, barreling into the attacker. With jaws like steel traps, it crushed the creature into smoke and dissolved it to nothing.

Lucy fought differently. Panic quickened her movements, but her precision was unmatched. She never let the damned come close, pelting them from afar with her glowing daggers.

She threw, summoned anew, and threw again in rapid rhythm, each blade finding its mark with unerring accuracy. Her beast, the vultiger, prowled her flank, lunging at any who dared slip past her line. Together, they were a storm of steel and fury.

But Simma… Simma was fading.

A club slammed into his ribs. Pain seared through him, and his body whipped backward, smashing against a tree. The impact rattled his bones. His vision swam.

The damned soul came at him again, but with sword raised high. Simma swung, but it blocked with its club. Sparks burst. He stumbled, his movements sluggish.

This one was tougher. It matched him, strike for strike, blocking every blow. Another joined in, staff raised. The blackened wood swept low, smashing Simma's legs out. He crashed hard against the damp ground, leaves crunching under his weight.

The staff thrust down, aimed for his stomach.

But before it pierced, a purple portal bloomed under him. Simma fell through it in a blur, the staff stabbing the ground where he had just been.

"No one messes with my FRIEND!" Lucy's scream ripped through the air. She flung two daggers, her rage guiding them true. One blade buried into a corpse's eye, the other sinking into the skull of its partner. Both dissolved instantly into smoke.

A second portal snapped open, spitting Simma out onto the ground beside her. He rolled out, groaning, before scrambling back to his feet.

"Th-thank you," he spluttered, still breathless.

The three regrouped, backs pressed together, their circle of defense tight. Only a few enemies remained now, closing in with howls of rage.

The remaining corpses, lounged forward.

Sarah's blade cut like purple fire, her lion lunging beside her.

Lucy's daggers flashed in and out, her vultiger tearing through stragglers.

Simma summoned the last of his strength, blue lightning erupting from his blade in a final baptism of fury, obliterating the souls that faced him.

Silence followed.

All of them breathed heavily, shoulders rising and falling. For a brief moment, victory tasted real.

Simma smiled faintly, turning toward Sarah...

But his smile vanished in an instant. His hand jerked, throwing his sword at her like a man possessed.

Sarah's heart lurched. She froze. His killing intent struck her like a wall. Her chest tightened, her breath caught, her eyes wide with disbelief.

The sword spun, glowing, and flew straight for her.

AND...

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