The strange humming in the air grew louder. It felt like music, but also deeply unsettling. Peter looked around, confused. A weird pressure built behind his eyes.
"You guys feel that?" Peter asked, his voice strained. "It feels like sound, but not quite."
Lucy tightened her grip on her sword. Her face was grim. "That is her power. She is twisting the air itself. It is a way to find us and confuse us."
Suddenly, silver threads made of sound appeared out of the fog. They shimmered with a strange light. They twisted like snakes, slithering toward the squad with unnatural speed. They hummed as they moved.
Silvia yelled, "Guard up! This sound is a weapon! It looks like nothing, but it feels sharp!"
Eleanor raised her axe. The metal felt cold. "Let us see what she has. We are not afraid of a little noise."
The sound threads attacked, whipping through the air and hissing. Robert cut through them with his mace. But as soon as one was cut, more appeared from the swirling fog. It felt like fighting water.
Allen shouted, his voice tight, "We are caught in her music! It is everywhere! I cannot tell where it is coming from!"
Lucy sliced through the threads. Her movements were calm and precise. "Do not get distracted. She will not show herself yet. This is just a test."
Peter managed a small, strained smile. "Nice moves. Very theatrical for a goddess."
Eleanor scanned the fog. "Keep moving. Do not get stuck in her rhythm. That is what she wants: to control us." She knew if they stood still, they would be overwhelmed.
The music changed. It turned into cold, mocking laughter that echoed all around them. It seemed to whisper doubts and fears into their minds.
Then, a single perfect note rang out. It was a clear, pure tone. The world seemed to freeze for a second. Every Guardian felt it vibrate in their bones.
Melody stepped from the fog. She was tall and graceful, looking like pure light. A golden harp floated by her side, glowing softly. Her long, silver hair shimmered. Her robes flowed like water.
Her eyes were pale, almost white, and glowed faintly. The music bent to her will with just a glance. She did not need to touch the harp.
"You came into my space," she said softly. Her voice was like icy wind chimes. "Do you think you understand sound? You do not know how deep silence can cut."
Lucy stepped forward, her sword ready. "We are here to stop you. We are here to bring justice."
Melody's smile twisted into a cold, unnerving expression. "Then come closer. Let me show you what true noise feels like. Let me show you the symphony of despair."
She strummed her harp hard, a violent, powerful motion.
The ground shook. A massive wave of visible, pure sound blasted toward them. It was a shimmering ripple in the air itself, rushing at the squad.
Peter shouted, "Brace for impact! Things are about to get loud!" He slammed his hands together, activating a small energy shield.
The fog clung thicker now, swallowing the village in an eerie silence. It was the calm before a storm. Eleanor's grip tightened around the haft of her axe. She breathed shallowly but steadily. She could feel the pressure building.
"We are close," Lucy said. Her voice was low and steady. Her eyes were sharp. She scanned the shadows, knowing the real battle was just beginning.
Peter stretched lazily. His usual grin vanished. He looked serious. "I am starting to think Melody is playing with us. This silence is too heavy."
Allen cracked his knuckles. He was nervous but determined. "Trap or not, we do not back out now. We came all this way."
Robert smirked. "The only option is forward. Retreat is not in our vocabulary."
Silvia was silent. Her blade was drawn. Her sharp gaze focused on the strange sounds. "Let us finish this before more lives are lost. We saw what she did to the villagers."
Eleanor's mind returned to the bodies they passed. The hollow eyes and bloodless wounds. Melody's presence was poison. Every step forward pulled them deeper into her web.
Suddenly, a discordant note shattered the silence. It was a distant but deadly clear pluck of a string. Shivers went down their spines.
Lucy's eyes snapped toward the sound. "She is here. This is not a trick anymore."
Peter's grin returned, colder now. It was a battle grin. "Showtime. Let's give her a show."
They moved as one. The weight of the coming battle pressed on them. They knew this was a true goddess.
The haunting melody drifted again, closer this time. It wrapped around them like a venomous lullaby. The sound tugged at the edges of their minds, twisting calm into unease, trying to plant fear.
Eleanor's axe hummed faintly in response. The runes along the blade glowed cold blue. She could feel her power stirring. Stay focused, she told herself. Do not let it get inside your head. You are stronger than this.
Lucy's eyes flickered. A sliver of moonlight cut through the darkness. Her voice was stern. "Her sound is not just music. It is a weapon. It is a cage for the mind." She tightened her grip on her katana. "We cannot afford to lose control, even for a second."
Peter smirked. He flicked a blade from his sleeve. It gleamed in the dim light. "Good thing I have tricks for mind games. My mind is my own." He glanced at the others. "Do not get caught in her rhythm. Fight it."
Allen exchanged a silent nod with Robert and Silvia. Tension hung thick in the air. Their faces were grim. They were ready.
Suddenly, the mist parted. It revealed the shattered remains of a grand stage. Broken pillars stood like teeth. Torn banners hung like ghostly flags. This was the heart of Melody's power.
A shadow moved across the ruins. It was graceful but deadly. It drew closer.
"Melody," Silvia whispered. She raised her rapier. Her hand was steady.
From the shadows, the figure emerged fully. She was tall and regal. Her pink hair flowed with the wind. Her golden harp shimmered faintly, almost glowing. Her golden eyes were cold and calculating. They held no warmth.
Without a word, Melody plucked a single string on her harp.
The sound exploded. It was not just heard. It was felt. It rattled bones. It scrambled senses. It was a direct assault on their very being.
"Brace yourselves!" Lucy barked. She spun into battle stance, her sword held high.
Katya was deep in the perimeter woods. She ignored the pain in her ribs, focusing on her gauntlets until her arms burned. She was not training to fight. She was training to break.
Her raw power burst from her. Pale green light erupted in messy, uncontrolled shocks that splintered the nearby trees. A shockwave tossed her backward. She hit the dirt hard, spitting blood.
"Useless," she spat, struggling back to her feet. She punched the ground. "Why can't I control it? I need to be stronger!"
Meredith's words echoed: Your power is chaos. I can't control that.
"Then I will control the chaos itself," Katya whispered.
She focused, drawing the light again. It felt like tearing her muscles from the inside. The light flared brighter, bigger, but instead of forming a clean strike, it exploded. The sound was a harsh crack. The energy bounced off a distant rock, slicing back toward her shoulder.
She barely rolled away. The air where she stood warped and hissed.
"You seek a difficult path, child."
A voice, smooth and low, slid through the trees. Katya spun, her fists ready.
A man stood in the deep shadows of the pines. He wore clothes woven from dark fabric, making him look like part of the forest floor. He was tall, and his features were indistinct in the gloom, but his eyes glowed with a faint, deep purple light.
"Who are you?" Katya demanded, her fighting stance tight.
He tilted his head. "I am one who understands the natural state of things. Everything breaks eventually. That is not weakness. That is power."
He stepped into a patch of moonlight. She saw he looked ancient, his skin tight and marked with faint, complex runes.
"The Ascendants preach discipline. They want stability," he continued, watching her. "But you were born to instability. Why cage a hurricane with silk?"
"Meredith said I need discipline," Katya said, her voice shaking with confusion and anger.
The man chuckled. It was a dry, rasping sound. "Discipline is for those who fear what they are. You crave power. You crave the ability to shatter the ones who hurt you." He gestured toward the destroyed trees. "You just need to learn how to aim the wreckage."
Katya lowered her hands slightly. "You can teach me that?"
"I can teach you how to become what you truly are. A destroyer," he promised. "No rules. Only results. But the price is high. You will be feared. You will be hated. And you will never turn back."
He held out a hand. The purple light in his eyes intensified.
Katya looked at the Zenith stronghold lights visible through the trees. They represented rules, and weakness. She thought of Lyn. She looked at the man's extended hand. It offered strength and freedom.
"I don't care about turning back," Katya said.
She took his hand. The moment their skin touched, a freezing energy rushed up her arm, settling deep inside her chest. The pain was sharp, but the power felt absolute.
The mysterious figure smiled, a quick, chilling movement. "Good. Call me Vorlag. Our lesson begins now."