The Guardians had us try sparring in teams. Just a test, they said. Just to see how we’d do. They paired us up to see how similar and opposite abilities clashed.

  The four of us—me, Peter, Ella, and Angelina—lined up on the training field just as the sun began to sink behind the trees. The sky was a blend of gold and deepening blue. Ella lit up in the golden hour, sunlight glowing from beneath her skin. And me? I could feel the stars beginning to pulse in the sky behind the sun’s glare.

  This was our overlap—sunset. Her strength. Mine too.

  Peter and I took one side. Ella and Angelina stood across from us. I adjusted my stance, my sword resting at my side.

  Peter leaned over. “Angelina will try to disrupt me. Don’t let her touch you directly, she will really mess with your abilities then.”

  “I won’t.”

  The whistle blew.

  Angelina came for Peter immediately. No weapons—just a sudden pulse of power that rippled through the ground. I saw Peter flinch as the air around him seemed to vibrate. His focus slipped for half a second, his Victory Sense scrambled by whatever strange frequency she sent out. That was her magic—disruption. Not just sound or force, but breaking the rhythm of magic itself.

  They clashed in hand-to-hand. Peter was faster, more tactical, but every time he landed a blow, she twisted with it, turning his strength back against him.

  Ella rushed me with twin daggers glowing bright. Her light didn’t flare this time—no sudden blinding flashes. We’d sparred enough to know we were both immune to that particular trick. Still, she was fast. Fluid. Her light danced off my blade as I blocked, parried, spun. I couldn’t rely on starlight yet. Not fully. But I could feel the night coming.

  She slashed high—I ducked. Kicked low—I leapt. The fight became a rhythm, one we knew by heart. We’d spared like this all the time, the guardians training us for when it really mattered. Matching each other step for step. She grinned as I disarmed her with a twist of my blade, and she rolled to retrieve it without missing a beat.

  Peter let out a breath and broke away from Angelina, only for her to send another harmonic shockwave through the ground. I felt it, too—like something inside my bones had skipped a beat.

  It made my next swing slower. Just by a second. But that was enough for Ella to close the gap again.

  Peter recovered, dodging Angelina’s next strike, and moved to tackle her—but she was ready. She twisted at the last moment, using his momentum against him. With a sudden surge of disruptive energy pulsing from her core, she dropped him flat on his back and pinned him with one knee, her hand hovering at his throat in victory.

  Peter blinked up at her, surprised—and impressed.

  I felt it the moment the sun dipped below the horizon. A flicker in my chest, like something settling into place. The stars were out now—barely visible to anyone else, but I could feel them.

  Strength filled my limbs in a quiet surge. Starlight. Mine.

  Ella came at me again, fast and sharp, her daggers a blur. But this time, I wasn’t just keeping up—I was faster.

  I shifted, parried, let the wind slide beneath my feet, and twisted around her next strike. My sword caught hers in a perfect arc and knocked it wide. I pivoted, swept her leg, and before she could recover, I stepped in, placing the tip of my blade against her chest.

  She froze, breathing hard, eyes wide with surprise—and respect.

  Whistle. End.

  We didn’t win. Neither of us did. We were too evenly matched. Too familiar with each other’s moves.

  But for a moment—between the golden light and the rising stars—we were something close to balanced.

  We’d been driving for a little over an hour. The sun was higher now, the light sharper. The endless Texas highway stretched ahead of us, wavering in the heat like it was daring us to keep going.

  Damian had been leaning out the passenger window, sunglasses sliding down his nose, tossing out stories of the girls he met in Boston.

  Peter hadn’t responded.

  I watched the sky.

  The wind had been steady since we left. Predictable. But then it shifted.

  There was a smell on the wind. Sharp. Wrong. Tainted.

  I sat up straighter, every muscle going tight. “Slow down.”

  Hector barely glanced at me before his foot lifted off the gas. “How close?”

  I didn’t get a chance to answer.

  The first impact wasn’t visible—it was felt. The road buckled beneath us like something had hit it from below. The truck lurched sideways. A black shape slammed into the front axle with a crunch of metal and bone.

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  Then everything exploded.

  The vehicle twisted, tires leaving the road. We flipped once, twice, landed hard on the passenger side. The world spun. Metal screamed. My shoulder hit the doorframe. Air was gone for a second.

  When the noise settled, I heard the hissing. The clicking. The monsters.

  They were already here.

  I kicked open what was left of the door and rolled out onto the gravel. Heat pressed down like a weight. My staff snapped open in my hand with a whrrr of metal and wind.

  Peter was already up, blades drawn, blood on his cheek. Damian stood behind him, twin swords gleaming, grinning like this was all a game.

  Hector pulled his hammer from the crushed truck bed with both hands. It looked heavier now, coated in dust and fury.

  They came fast—long-limbed and twisted, like wolves born from shadows and bone. The first one lunged for me, and I met it mid-air, catching its side with the hooked crescent of my staff. Wind curved with the motion, slicing clean through its ribcage as it hit the ground in pieces.

  Behind me, I heard Peter call out a warning. Damian darted in, blades flashing like silver fire. He moved like instinct, like music without sound—dodging, cutting, spinning, laughing.

  Hector waded into the monsters like a wall of iron, each strike of his hammer sending tremors through the ground. Bones shattered. Jaws broke. He didn’t talk. He didn’t need to.

  One of the creatures came at Peter low and fast. It leapt, fangs wide. Peter stepped to the side like he’d already seen it happen, wrapped the chainblade around its neck mid-air, and yanked.

  It didn’t get back up.

  Five more took its place.

  They just kept coming.

  “Back-to-back!” Peter shouted.

  We formed the circle without thinking—me, Peter, Damian, Hector, shoulder to shoulder, weapons out, breath steady.

  And slowly… finally… the tide shifted.

  The monsters fell one by one. No more replaced them. The last of them crumpled at Damian’s feet, twitching in the dust, its body already dissolving into smoke.

  The silence after felt louder than the fight.

  Peter wiped his blade on his sleeve. “Everyone okay?”

  “Fine,” I said. My ribs ached. Probably bruised.

  Damian dropped to the road, catching his breath, eyes still bright. “We need a new ride.”

  We all looked at what was left of the truck.

  Yeah. That wasn’t going anywhere.

  We stood in silence for a few seconds, the only sound the distant wind sweeping across the scorched pavement.

  Hector finally broke it. “We walk. Thirty miles isn’t far.”

  Peter gave him a look, but nodded. “We’ve done worse.”

  Damian groaned but didn’t argue. “I’m just saying, when we save the world, someone better get us a new truck. Preferably with air conditioning.”

  We all doubled back to the wreck, digging through the crumpled remains for anything salvageable. My bag was wedged under a twisted seat. Peter’s was stuck in the passenger footwell. Damian found his buried under shattered glass and cursed loud enough to echo off the trees.

  Hector pulled his canvas bag of weapons out from the back with a grunt, checking it quickly before slinging it over one shoulder.

  Once we’d gathered what we could, I shifted the strap of my bag higher on my shoulder and fell in step beside the others as we started walking south.

  The road ahead was empty, but we weren’t. Not anymore.

  We had only been walking for about five minutes when Damian became rambling again.

  “Well,” Damian said, “if I had to be stuck on the end-of-the-world road trip with three guys, I guess it could be worse.”

  Peter didn’t look up. “We’re not here to enjoy ourselves.”

  Damian ignored him. “I mean, Xandor’s all moody and mysterious—which has a certain charm, don’t get me wrong—but I miss female energy.”

  Hector raised a brow. “You’re going to see them soon enough.”

  Damian sighed dramatically. “Exactly! That’s why I’ve been thinking… What do you think they look like now?” He leaned forward a little, waggling his eyebrows. “I bet Bay’s even wilder, and Helena’s even prettier, and Ella’s even hotter.”

  Peter didn’t look up. “Stay focused.”

  “I am focused,” Damian said. “Focused on their faces.” He flashed a grin. “I mean, how long has it been?”

  “They’re probably the same as you remember them,” I said, “but more. Just like we are.”

  Damian chuckled, nudging me with his elbow. “That’s the thing, isn’t it? We’ve all been through hell and back. There’s no way they haven’t changed too.”

  He shot a look at Peter, grin sharpening. “Speaking of—Peter. Be honest. Between Nix, Bay, and Ella… who makes your little strategist heart beat faster?”

  Peter’s ears turned red immediately. “That’s not—”

  “It’s okay,” Damian said, mock-soothing. “You don’t have to pick just one. We support your journey and I’ll figure it out as soon as we see them.”

  Hector snorted.

  Damian turned on Hector next, eyes gleaming. “What about you? Still carrying a torch for Helena?”

  Hector rolled his eyes. “I was fourteen the last time I saw her.”

  Damian smiled. “Yes, but I could feel how you felt about her.”

  That was the thing about Damian—his powers weren’t just about charm or manipulation. He felt things. Real things. He could reach into a moment and pull out the truth of how someone felt, even when they didn’t say a word. It wasn’t invasive—not the way he used it. It was grounding. Centering. Like having a heartbeat outside your own body that knew when something was off.

  None of the rest of us could do that. Not like him.

  Damian glanced over at me, his grin shifting into something gentler. “What about you and Zoe?” he asked. “For the past week, she hasn’t visited the minds of any of us. Just you. You two were close as kids… is that turning into more?”

  I shrugged, keeping my eyes on the road ahead. “She’s just been keeping me updated—where the girls are, what they’ve found out. That’s all.”

  But even as I said it, something in the back of my mind questioned the words. When we were younger, Zoe had been like a little sister to me—someone I watched out for, protected without question. I’d carried that role like armor.

  But after ten years apart, with only fragments of memory and flickers of thought between us, I couldn’t help wondering… what if something had changed? What if we had?

  Damian didn’t say anything right away. He just watched me with that quiet intensity of his, like he was reading something I hadn’t said out loud. Which, honestly, he probably was.

  Then the wind shifted.

  Not gently, not playfully—sharp and sudden, slicing across my senses.

  And with it, the smell hit me.

  Monsters. Lots of them.

  I stopped in my tracks. The others noticed immediately and came to a halt beside me, every one of them tensing as they caught the change in my posture.

  Peter turned his head. “What is it?”

  I didn’t take my eyes off the horizon. “Monsters. Straight south of here. A lot of them.”

  Peter followed my gaze. “That’s the direction we’re headed.”

  “There’s no other way,” Hector said quietly.

  No one argued. No one needed to.

  We tightened our grips on our weapons, the mood shifting with the wind.

  And we kept walking.

  Straight into it.

  The sun had dropped lower, casting longer shadows. Dusk wasn’t far off.

  And dusk was when I was strongest.

  The land ahead opened up—scrubby brush and dry grass, with a stretch of half-burnt trees dotting the horizon. No cover. No chance to circle wide.

  They were waiting.

  The monsters came out of the brush like a wave. Dozens—maybe more—emerging from both sides at once, long limbs and jagged claws catching the light.

  We didn’t speak. We didn’t hesitate.

  We fell into formation.

  Four of us. Back to back.

  Against a horde.