The outpost’s walls groaned under the weight of hurried reinforcements. Fighters scrambled to position, dragging crates of ammunition, loading rifles, and chanting protective spells. The air buzzed with tension, the kind that settled in before the first shot was fired.

  Kael adjusted his grip on his pistol, eyes locked on the approaching forces. The demons, wreathed in a crimson glow, prowled the darkness with burning eyes. Their bodies twisted, some humanoid, others monstrous—warped beyond recognition by whatever abyss had birthed them.

  But just as unnerving were the Forgotten. The spectral warriors moved with eerie precision, their dark armor blending seamlessly with the night. Unlike the demons, they did not snarl or roar. They simply advanced, silent as the grave.

  Phantom’s voice was tight. “This isn’t just a battle. It’s a reckoning.”

  Elysia drew her sword, the metal catching the dim torchlight. “Then we’d better make sure we’re on the right side.”

  Aldric’s voice rang out over the outpost. “Steady! Hold fire until my command!”

  The fighters braced themselves.

  The first demon lunged.

  The world exploded in violence.

  Gunfire cracked through the air. Arrows laced with enchantments streaked through the night. Explosions lit up the battlefield as spellcasters unleashed torrents of flame, ice, and lightning.

  Kael squeezed the trigger, his pistol kicking against his palm as a demon’s head snapped back, a dark mist spilling from the wound.

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  Lyria moved like a ghost, her daggers flashing as she danced between enemies, slicing throats and severing tendons before vanishing back into the shadows.

  Phantom fought with brutal efficiency, every bullet landing with precision, every movement calculated.

  But the demons didn’t stop. They surged forward, climbing over their fallen, relentless and mindless.

  Then, the Forgotten joined the fight.

  Without a sound, the spectral warriors waded into the chaos. Their swords carved through demons like a blade through water, each strike precise and deadly. For a moment, it seemed like they were allies, fighting the same enemy.

  Then Kael saw it—one of the Forgotten turning, its void-like eyes locking onto a human fighter. A moment later, the spectral blade drove through the man’s chest.

  The Forgotten weren’t here to save them.

  They were here to cleanse the battlefield.

  Aldric shouted, “They’re attacking both sides! Hold your ground!”

  The outpost was now caught in a three-way war.

  Kael ducked behind cover as a blast of dark energy sent debris flying. He wiped blood from his forehead, mind racing. They couldn’t hold this position.

  Phantom slid next to him, reloading his rifle. “We need an exit.”

  Elysia, panting, her blade coated in black ichor, nodded. “There’s a supply tunnel beneath the bunker. It leads into the cliffs.”

  Aldric overheard, cursing. “You suggesting we run?”

  Phantom leveled a stare at him. “I’m suggesting we live.”

  Aldric’s jaw tightened. Then, another explosion rocked the walls.

  The decision was made for them.

  “Everyone, fall back!” Aldric roared. “Get to the tunnels!”

  Chaos unfolded as the defenders fought a losing battle toward the bunker. The demons pushed forward, the Forgotten cut down anything in their path, and the outpost’s walls buckled under the assault.

  Kael covered Lyria as she sprinted ahead, her agility saving her more than once as spectral blades barely missed her. Phantom fired in short bursts, precise and deadly, clearing a path.

  They reached the bunker just as the gates shattered behind them.

  The demons poured in.

  The Forgotten followed.

  And Outpost Blackthorn fell.