The Riftborn Hunter

The team ran.

Boots pounded against shattered rock, breath came in ragged gasps, and the world felt stretched—like something vast and unseen was pulling at the edges of reality.

Aiden pushed forward, his muscles aching, his nerves burning from the aftershocks of Surge Sight. His vision had returned to normal, but the sensation lingered—a hum of electricity beneath his skin, like his body hadn't fully let go of the power yet.

But he ignored it.

They had bigger problems.

Behind them, the battlefield had gone silent.

Jenna slowed first, dragging in a breath as they reached a jagged outcrop of stone overlooking the valley. She turned, pulse still racing, gun raised—but nothing followed.

The others hesitated, shifting uneasily as they turned back.

The warzone they had barely escaped from was no longer a warzone.

The obsidian colossi were still there—but they weren't moving.

Massive beasts, still as statues, scattered across the battlefield. Some stood frozen in place, as if the fight had simply stopped. Others were slumped over, bodies covered in deep gashes left by phantom claws, yet they made no sound of pain.

It was like something had turned them off.

"…What the fuck," Silas muttered, staggering to a stop. He clutched his crossbow tight, his fingers white against the grip. "Why aren't they moving?"

Marko wiped a hand across his face. "They're not dead," he muttered. "They should be charging us, chasing us. They were ready to crush us a second ago."

But they weren't.

The colossi remained where they were. Watching.

Aiden's fingers curled. There was no territorial rage, no instinct to fight.

They had stopped because the battle had stopped.

And the phantoms—

The creatures they had been fighting—

Were gone.

Marko's breathing turned unsteady. He scanned the valley, shoulders tensed. "Where are the phantoms?"

No one answered.

No bodies. No blood. No remains.

Silas gave a slow, disbelieving shake of his head. "Since when do monsters have wars?"

No one answered. Because no one had one.

Aiden clenched his jaw. He had seen how Rift creatures fought. They were territorial, savage, instinct-driven. But this wasn't just about dominance or survival.

This had been a war.

Tactics. Strategy. Coordination.

The colossi had fought as a unified front, using their sheer bulk to counterattack. The phantoms had lured their enemies into traps.

Jenna rubbed her temple, looking grim

"This isn't just a Rift anomaly. The world inside this place…" She looked up at the sky—at the fractured moon, at the rivers of liquid silver running through the valleys. "This entire place doesn't feel like it should be a D-Rank."

Aiden said nothing. Because she was right.

Something about this Rift wasn't just dangerous.

It felt wrong.

The System activated.

[SYSTEM CALIBRATION ATTEMPT…]

[…]

[FAILED.]

Aiden stiffened.

[UNRECOGNIZED ENTITY DETECTED.]

[UNABLE TO IDENTIFY.]

A sudden jolt ran through his skull.

His vision blurred—his thoughts flickered—

[PERCEPTION +1]

Aiden inhaled sharply.

His body was still changing.

And something had triggered it.

He felt it before he saw it.

The weight of something watching.

Silas stiffened first. "You feel that?"

Aiden didn't answer.

Jenna frowned. "What?"

Aiden took a slow breath. He knew how this worked.

He didn't look directly.

He never looked directly.

But he still saw it.

Just beyond the ruined ridge where the battle had taken place—on the farthest edge of the Rift's reach—

The shadow stood.

Watching.

Waiting.

And it wasn't alone.

Figures stood beside it.

The same phantom creatures they had fought.

Silent. Still. Waiting.

Aiden's breath slowed.

Behind them, the colossi loomed, unmoving but present.

Before them, the phantoms gathered around the shadow.

Now there was nowhere to run.