The Uninvited Guest

The oppressive aura pressed down like a physical weight. Anna's eyes darted – Kaelan pale and shaking, Astraea sweating and panting, Leonardo struggling to focus and Elara surprisingly smiling. Altan's presence was a suffocating blanket.

"They don't have a boss... only the Stem matters," Astraea gasped, her words thick with effort. The massive, haunting aura above them pulsed, vibrating in their bones.

"An aura... made manifest," Kaelan rasped, pounding his chestplate with a fist, trying to dispel the dread. His shield felt like lead in his grip.

A lazy, chilling chuckle cut through the tension. Altan stepped forward, white hair catching the dim light like frost.

"Oh, this is fun. Truly Adepts! and you Refined. But Anna," his voice dropped, becoming silk over steel, "you should have picked me as your guide." The condescension was a physical blow.

Kaelan's shield slipped, clattering on stone. He lunged – too slow. Altan's spear wasn't thrust; it was a viper's tongue.

A subtle twist of the haft, a flick of the wrist. The spear's prong hooked Kaelan's weapon not with force, but with leverage, effortlessly redirecting its momentum past him.

Altan flowed into the opening created, his body a coiled spring uncoiling. His shoulder slammed into Kaelan's center mass. a controlled detonation.

Crack. Stone fractured under Kaelan's boots as he was driven back, skidding, breath exploding from his lungs.

Altan was already turning, a dancer changing partners.

The spear became a silver blur, its haft whipping horizontally not to strike Astraea, but to intercept her rising staff.

The impact wasn't loud; it was a sharp snap that jarred her arms. He didn't stop the staff's momentum; he harnessed it. Using her own force, he pivoted, his boot hooking behind her ankle.

A fluid, almost gentle pull. Astraea gasped, weightless for a split second before the ground rushed up to meet her back. Thud. Her staff clattered away.

Anna saw him coming and braced herself. He didn't strike. He simply appeared within her guard, his body a wall.

A precise, economical shift of his hip. His shoulder met hers – not a brutal impact, but a perfectly timed nudge exploiting her rooted stance. Balance lost, she stumbled back, landing hard, grit scraping her palms. "You prick!" she spat, fury warring with shock.

Elara was ready, stance low, eyes calculating. Altan flowed towards her like water downhill. He didn't feint. He folded.

Dropping impossibly low, one leg extended in a blurring sweep. Elara's defensive posture meant nothing against the attack's sheer speed and the leverage applied just below her center of gravity.

Her legs swept out from under her. She landed heavily on her back, the wind knocked out. Altan was already rising, his gaze locking onto Leonardo.

Leonardo saw the blur and tried to brace.

Altan launched, not a leap but a controlled flight. Mid-air, legs scissored with viper speed, wrapping around Leonardo's neck with crushing precision.

An anchor. Altan twisted his torso, using his entire body as a pendulum. Leonardo's choked gasp was cut off as he was slammed into the unyielding grass. Crunch. Altan landed lightly atop him, one hand pinning Leonardo's shoulder like a vise, the other casually raised, fist clenched for a killing blow.

"I just... wanted to go home," Kaelan groaned, pushing himself up on trembling arms.

Pain screamed from his ribs, but he'd shielded Elara. Small comfort. He stared at Altan, the dawning horror absolute.

"I hate to say this... but I'm scattered," he whispered, voice cracking. "Is he... playing?" His legs buckled, refusing to carry him.

They lay strewn like broken toys. None had seen the blows coming, only felt the brutal aftermath. Altan moved through them like a reaper through wheat.

"Can't... breathe!" Leonardo choked, blood spotting his torn, regenerating collar.

Altan tilted his head, perched atop Leonardo like a predator savoring its catch. The raised fist promised oblivion.

"You get to see my face before you die," he murmured, voice devoid of malice, almost conversational. "Isn't that bliss enough?" The fist began its descent.

"WAIT! WAIT, WAIT!!!" Leonardo screamed, raw terror shredding his voice. "I'M THE TOUR GUIDE'S SON!"

Altan froze.

Utterly. The playful glint vanished, replaced by genuine, wide-eyed shock.

His body locked. "Wha—" His ear twitched, catching a sound only he perceived. His grin vanished. "Tick-tock," he breathed, a flicker of something else – urgency? – crossing his face.

"Burst!" Astraea screamed, seizing the fractional hesitation.

Ignoring her pain, she rolled, hand snapping out. Raw, concussive force, not a beam but a focused detonation, erupted from her palm point-blank into Altan's side. 

Bam! The shockwave rippled outwards, dust exploding around the impact point. Altan was ripped sideways off Leonardo, tumbling across the stone.

"Just pause," Anna snarled, wiping blood and grit from her cheek, "and let Elara beat you senseless. My face, you absolute bastard." She pushed herself up, fury radiating.

"My turn..." Elara stated, stepping forward, brushing dust from her blonde hair.

Her eyes held a dangerous calm, a faint green shimmer gathering around her hands as she leveled them at the momentarily stunned Altan.

Altan pushed himself up onto one elbow, shaking his head as if to clear it. His white hair, tousled and streaked with dirt, framed a face far too young for the life he'd lived. A thin trickle of blood ran down his temple.

Then he saw Elara—her stance firm, energy coiling around her like a storm waiting to break.

And he actually grinned.

"That," he rasped, blood staining his teeth as he spat out part of his tongue, "is gonna hurt."

The words hung in the air like a dare.

Alright, hit me, Elara, the thought seemed to hang in the air.

"I'm joking!" Elara chirped, her smile widening unnervingly.

Altan's grin faltered into genuine confusion. "Huh? What do you mean?" He tilted his head, the picture of bewildered innocence. "Is there anything funny about this?"

"What? You were laughing the whole time, Altan," Elara countered, her eyes darkening to fathomless pools.

"Was I?" he asked softly, almost thoughtfully.

"C'mon, Elara, just place it or punch him!" Anna snapped, urgency sharpening her tone.

"Oh, okay," Elara acquiesced, the playful mask dropping instantly.

She swept her hand over Altan. A complex lattice of shimmering green light, like solidified emerald smoke, snapped into existence around him, not touching him but caging the air he occupied.

"A barrier?" Altan mused, tapping a finger against the shimmering field. It hummed faintly. "Cute trick. Useful, but it won't hold—" He stopped.

The barrier wasn't solid. It pulsed with a different energy. His eyes narrowed, truly assessing it for the first time.

"It isn't meant to stop you," Anna stated flatly. "And Kaelan," she added, her voice cutting through his daze, "pull yourself together. He was just playing."

"Argh, fine! Move!" Kaelan barked, urgency overriding pain. "Before he figures it out!"

They scrambled towards the estate entrance, boots pounding on stone. Leonardo risked a glance back – and froze mid-stride.

Altan lay sprawled within the shimmering cage, one arm flung dramatically over his eyes.

His chest rose and fell steadily. Sunlight caught strands of his white hair. And he was... humming. A jaunty, carefree tune utterly at odds with the violence moments before.

"Anna—" Leonardo hissed, stumbling. "Is your skill still holding him?"

"No," she snapped, not slowing. "That wore off. He's just... lying there."

"So he's exhausted?" Leonardo panted, hope warring with disbelief.

Anna's laugh was harsh, devoid of humor. "Exhausted? That's Altan. He doesn't get tired." She looked back, her expression grim. "He gets bored."

Leonardo's blood ran cold.

Behind them, Altan's humming seamlessly transitioned into a sharp, piercing whistle. It cut through the air, mocking, carefree, scraping against Leonardo's raw nerves.

He almost caved my skull in... and now he's whistling?

"What a waste of a monster," Leonardo muttered, forcing his eyes forward, the whistle echoing in his skull.

"Leonardo," Anna's voice was tight, demanding. "You have explaining to do."

"Okay... it was obvious," he mumbled, his suit already seamless, though the phantom pain of Altan's grip lingered. All that... in less than two minutes.

Altan sat up slowly as they vanished into the estate, one knee casually propped up, elbow resting on it. He watched the doorway they'd fled through, the jaunty whistle fading.

His grin slipped, replaced by something almost like... disappointment.

"Huh," he murmured to the empty courtyard. "They didn't even try to finish me." He tilted his head, a child denied a promised game. "And I'd planned such a poetic end for that Leonardo..." A sigh escaped him, theatrical and long-suffering.

He stood.

Snap. The intricate green barrier shattered like spun sugar, dissolving into harmless motes of light that drifted around him like dying fireflies. He brushed a few from his shoulder, then froze, eyes widening slightly in mock alarm.

"Ah, damn it." He smacked his forehead lightly. "Late. Again." 

"New or old? Doesn't matter now," he muttered, striding purposefully towards the edge of the floating platform. "Can't forget you, though." He scooped up his spear, its edge gleaming wickedly.

At the very edge of the floor, he skidded to a halt. A door, simple and unadorned, shimmered into existence before him. Altan relayed a faint, complex pattern on its surface with his thumb. His smirk returned, tinged with a hint of genuine annoyance now.

"Still sharpened this damned spear for nothing," he grumbled, hefting the weapon. "What a waste of a good meal, Zhil'varn though..." He glanced back at the silent estate, the faintest ghost of that predatory amusement flickering in his eyes.

"Next time, then," he whispered, the promise hanging heavy in the air.

He stepped through the door. It vanished instantly, leaving behind only the faint scent of ozone and the fading echo of that infuriating, jaunty whistle on the wind. Silence reclaimed the shattered floor.