Not far away, at Gate Number Four, the team led by Nikolai Velona — one of the elder sons of House Velona — prepared to advance. Armed with high-tech weaponry and motion-detection devices, their footsteps echoed through the rough, damp tunnel walls, a drumbeat of restrained tension.Nikolai, his gaze sharp and his words few, raised a hand to halt the group.
"Stay alert," he ordered softly, their LED flashlights cutting through moss and moisture.
The cold air and the metallic stench seemed to sap their resolve—but none would turn back. A dull thud echoed in the distance. One soldier's motion detector began blinking wildly.
"Someone's coming," whispered one of the men, tense.
Nikolai signaled for defensive positions. Then, a staggering figure emerged from the shadows—Lionel, soaked in blood, his steps faltering, his face on the brink of collapse.
"Hold!" Nikolai shouted, recognizing him.
Weapons lowered as Lionel fell to the ground. Nikolai rushed to his side, inspecting his wounds.
"What happened?" he asked, voice hard but steady.
"Beasts... men... Sanathiel and the others... they're in grave danger," Lionel murmured, his voice cracking with exhaustion and pain.
Nikolai's eyes darkened as he grasped the gravity of the situation.
"You heard the man. We move now. Prepare to advance."
They helped Lionel to his feet, administering a painkiller. But his legs gave out. He collapsed like a man who'd been holding the weight of the world too long. Blood blurred his vision, but through the haze of pain, he made out Nikolai's silhouette.
"Don't... let them die..." he whispered, before surrendering to unconsciousness.
Once again, the team's footsteps rang through the tunnel—this time driven by a fierce resolve to save their own.
Farther ahead, in a neighboring passage, Dimitri Snova was fighting his own battle. Exhausted, with only a handful of bullets left, he struggled to stay upright. The creatures circled him, each attack more savage than the last.
"I'll send you all to hell!"
The lone surviving squadmate emptied his clip alongside Dimitri's, then collapsed dead on the spot—but not before tossing a laser weapon toward Dimitri.
One of the beasts, its spine lined with jagged spines, slashed his arm. The pain was unbearable—but Dimitri didn't falter.
"I won't become one of you. I'd rather die!" he shouted hoarsely.
Taking cover behind a column, he tore off his shirt sleeve and tied it tightly around his wounded arm. Gripping the laser weapon, he activated it—then, with a raw scream, amputated the limb before the infection could spread. The weapon clattered to the floor—but Dimitri pressed on.
"I... have to get out..." he muttered, trembling.
Elsewhere, in a different corridor, Aisha glanced at her phone as a message appeared: "Ishana is here. Find her."
The words gripped her attention. Clutching the device to her chest, she moved toward the light at the end of the passage. But when she rounded the corner, her breath caught.
Bodies floated in stagnant water, dark blood mingling with the murky liquid. Her phone slipped from her hands and splashed into the pool.
A shiver ran down her spine as her mind tried to process the scene. But amid the bodies, something gleamed—Ishana's bracelet. Without thinking, Aisha dove into the cold water, her skin stinging as she grabbed it. A blind fury replaced the ache of loss.
"I can't let this paralyze me. I must move forward. I must fight."
As she turned to leave, a faint ripple stopped her. The bodies began to stir. Clutching the bracelet, Aisha sprinted away without looking back.
The walls shook with each step as the sounds of the creatures filled the tunnel. She snatched a rusted sword from the floor, ready to face whatever came.
"I won't be easy prey," she whispered, gripping the weapon tightly.
Nikolai and his team reached a junction, the sounds of battle growing louder.
"To the right," Nikolai ordered, leading them toward the noise.
Rounding the corner, they found Aisha surrounded by werewolves. Without hesitation, they opened fire, scattering the beasts.
"Aisha!" Nikolai called out, running toward her.
Panting, Aisha lowered her sword. Before them, she shielded herself with her arms as the beasts clawed at her. Slipping beneath a massive reddish beast, she drove the blade up through its jaw and into its skull.
"Nikolai... thank you."
As their eyes met, the creature's body slowly shifted—back into human form, leaving the onlookers stunned.
"No time for thanks. We need to get out of here," Nikolai said, firing a shot to drive the remaining creatures back.
Before they could move, a deafening roar filled the tunnel. Nikolai looked up as more reddish beasts poured into the passage.
Among them, Skiller emerged, wiping blood from his three-bladed sword.
"Handle this one, Snova," Nikolai said, tossing a creature toward Skiller, who snapped its neck with a swift move.
Meanwhile, Aisha searched desperately. Closing her eyes, she tried to connect with the White Wolf. All she heard were wails and accusations—then a blurry image: floating bars of light above water... and beasts.
"Sanathiel... where are you?" she thought anxiously, lowering her trembling hands.
That's when a beast grabbed her from behind, claws covering her mouth.
Amid the chaos, a figure appeared among the creatures: Sanathiel. His body was immobilized, the beasts' blows echoing through his skull, making him lose track of time. His lunar medallion slipped from his neck and rolled across the floor, its light dimmed by blood and mud. As it was torn from his chest, he felt they were taking more than an object—it was a piece of his identity.
"You'll beg for death, filth. For betraying us... for Zaira," one creature snarled, wrenching away the medallion.
Then Salomon appeared, halting the pack with a single gesture.
He could hear water seeping through the hollow walls, the image of Zaira flashing in his mind—her body in his arms, arrows piercing her stubborn will to change fate.
"Should I truly do whatever I want? A vow... that means nothing anymore..."
"That's enough. He has paid for his mistakes."
Sanathiel, head bowed, whispered:
"Then do what you will with my life. It matters no more."
His face reflected deep anguish. Tears streamed freely—he was ready to embrace death.
From her position, Aisha saw him and screamed with all her strength:
"Sanathiel, you must not die!"
The Nevri turned, distracted. Breaking free from her captor, Aisha sprinted toward him, weaving through the beasts, slashing with a dull sword from the wet floor. The onlookers were stunned. When she reached him, Sanathiel clung to her—his final anchor to this world.
Through sobs, her words poured out:
"You have me, Sanathiel. I won't abandon you. Don't abandon me."
In that moment, he understood—his sins, his past, his fate—it didn't matter anymore.
Aisha was his redemption.And he would not let go.
He buried his face in her neck, letting tears flow for the first time.
All around them, the beasts watched in silence. But Skiller and Nikolai had already risen—ready to fight. To die, if need be.
Their eyes met.They were no longer just allies.They were pillars—holding up the last survivors of a broken story.
The beasts did not advance.Because, for the first time... they hesitated.
Love was their shield.And blood... their legacy.
(But in the shadows beyond the trembling walls… something else was waking.And this time—love alone might not be enough.)