The Zombie System.

"Flank it. Wait for my shot."

Leon's whisper barely disturbs the oppressive silence of the chamber. His Elite Grave Mage drifts left while the reconstructed assassin melts into the shadows on the right. Blue energy swirls around spectral fingertips as his undead take position.

The mantis boss looms in the doorway like a living nightmare. Its triangular head tilts with predatory curiosity, and its compound eyes reflect phosphorescent light in fractal patterns. The creature's carapace absorbs shadows, making its outline difficult to discern.

Leon's muscles coil with tension. Every instinct screams danger as he studies the monster's stance. This is no mindless beast, intelligence gleams behind those alien eyes.

Then the mantis moves, speed that defies physics carries eight feet of bladed death across twenty feet of stone. Leon's gun barks, the manna round striking center mass. Chitin cracks but holds; the shot merely scores the creature's natural armor.

The assassin strikes from the side, twin knives seeking gaps between armored plates. Steel scrapes harmlessly across the hardened carapace as the mantis twists with impossible flexibility.

Freezing energy erupts from the Grave Mage's position. Spectral ice wraps around one of the creature's rear legs, anchoring it momentarily. The mantis shrieks, a sound like breaking glass mixed with animal fury.

Leon rolls behind a fallen pillar as razor-sharp forearms sweep through the space where his head had just been. Stone chips explode where the creature's weapons strike, each impact powerful enough to shatter bone.

The chamber reeks of disturbed earth and a metallic scent that makes Leon's teeth ache. Ancient dust swirls, kicked up by the mantis's violent movements.

Then, the creation vanishes.

Not invisibility, something worse. The mantis seems to merge with the darkness, becoming one with shadows that shouldn't exist in the phosphorescent chamber.

Leon drops to one knee, signaling his undead to freeze, slows his breathing to barely perceptible movements and, sound becomes his primary sense as vision fails him.

A whisper of displaced air, above his position.

Leon throws himself sideways as the mantis drops like a falling blade from the ceiling. Its forearms punch into the stone where he had knelt, the impact sending tremors through the floor.

The assassin moves instantly, zit-zagging across the chamber in erratic patterns designed to confuse and distract. Her movements are fluid and unpredictable—bait for a predator that relies on anticipating its prey's actions.

The Grave Mage attempts to illuminate the darkness, blue fire blazing brighter than usual. The mantis's outline flickers and shimmers, caught between shadow and light like a half-remembered nightmare.

The creature takes the bait.

Compound eyes track the assassin's movement for three seconds—long enough to predict her next position. The mantis lunges with surgical precision.

Mandibles crunch through spectral flesh and bone. The assassin's left arm, dark ichor spraying across the chamber walls, separates at the shoulder. But instead of retreating, she drives her remaining knife upward into the creature's mouth.

Steel punches through softer tissue behind the mandibles. The mantis recoils, shrieking again, giving Leon the opening he needs.

The creature's back leg reveals a pale membrane at the joint where armor plates meet. Leon's shot tears through the vulnerable gap, severing tendons and ligaments. Dark fluid gushes from the wound.

The Grave Mage seizes the moment of distraction. Spectral chains erupt from the chamber floor, wrapping around the mantis's damaged leg and spreading upward. Ice crystallizes around the bonds, anchoring the creature to the stone.

For one precious heartbeat, the boss is immobilized.

The mantis's response is immediate and catastrophic. Muscles bunch beneath its carapace as it strains against the mystical restraints. Spectral ice cracks, then shatters like glass hitting concrete.

This time, the creature's shriek carries a rage beyond animal fury. It has been wounded, trapped, humiliated by prey that should have died in the first exchange.

The mantis fixes its compound eyes on Leon with laser focus. Every other target becomes irrelevant. This human has marked it, hurt it, and defied its natural superiority.

The charge comes like a living avalanche.

Eight feet of armored death crosses the chamber in explosive motion. Forearms sweep aside stone debris and spectral attacks with equal disdain. Nothing will prevent it from reaching the source of its pain.

Leon's world narrows to tunnel vision. Every sense focuses on the approaching nightmare. His hands move automatically, raising the manna gun and settling into a firing stance.

Time stretches like elastic as his finger finds the trigger. The mantis fills his entire field of view, compound eyes blazing with alien hatred.

This is the moment that will determine everything.