The AM threads shrieked.
They vibrated violently as tension exceeded tolerance, the air around them warping as the lattice binding the nightmare bowed inward. Lines stretched thin, pulled taut like veins under unbearable strain.
Fumika staggered back a step, eyes locked on her readouts.
"Containment—" she hissed, teeth clenched, "—failing—"
One claw slid beneath a tightening strand and pulled.
The thread snapped.
Another followed.
Then another.
The lattice tore open in a cascading failure, AM lines recoiling as the creature tore itself free, landing heavily on the cracked street.
Its posture changed.
No observation.
No hesitation.
It lowered its body.
Intent crystallized.
"Kaito," Ryou snapped. "Misokke twins. Ayla. Now."
Kaito was already moving.
He dropped beside Ayla, hands steady despite the blood soaking through her uniform.
"She's bleeding internally," he said. "Consciousness fading."
The Misokke twins moved in perfect sync.
One lifted Ayla carefully, supporting her head and spine. The other stepped forward, hammer lowered defensively, body positioned between her and the nightmare.
Ayla's eyes fluttered.
She tried to speak.
Nothing came out.
"We're pulling back," Kaito ordered. "Evac priority."
Behind them—
The nightmare lunged.
Its eyes locked onto Ren.
He was still on his knees.
Hands pressed to the asphalt. Shoulders shaking.
"I did it again," he whispered.
No one answered.
"I killed another one…"
The world fractured.
Fire screamed through dirt roads. Bare feet slapped against burning ground. Shadows tore through collapsing houses.
He saw it—
His friend.
Standing in front of him.
Then gone.
Cut cleanly in half.
Blood sprayed the air.
Ren's breath hitched.
"I did it again—"
The nightmare closed the distance.
Akira moved.
Too slow.
The claw rose.
"Misaki!" Ryou roared.
She was already moving.
Misaki stepped in close and caught his arm—not carefully, not gently. Her grip locked around his forearm like a steel vice.
Ryou didn't hesitate.
Misaki pivoted.
Her heel crushed the asphalt as she turned, muscles coiling, then releasing in a single violent motion. She swung him.
The world lurched.
Ryou's body tore through the air in a brutal arc, centrifugal force screaming as the greatblade dragged behind him, AM energy bleeding along its edge.
Once.
The street cracked.
Twice.
Air ruptured.
At the peak of the rotation—
Misaki let go.
Ryou vanished.
The captain became a projectile, a living weapon hurled down the street with catastrophic force. The shockwave buckled pavement as the greatblade howled, distortion rippling outward like heat over fire.
Midflight, Ryou twisted.
Perfect control.
The greatblade screamed as AM energy surged along its edge. The captain twisted midair, both hands locked tight as he brought the blade down in a single, decisive arc.
The blade slammed into the nightmare's frame, driving it into the street with catastrophic force. Asphalt exploded outward as the creature was pinned, limbs splayed.
Threads crossed the creature's joints.
Then more.
Then more.
Fumika's launchers fired continuously, AM threads layering, reinforcing, compressing until the nightmare's movements were reduced to millimeters.
The creature thrashed.
Not wildly.
Carefully.
Testing.
Learning.
"Containment reestablished," Fumika said. "Temporary."
Ryou didn't relax.
"Good," he said. "Now find the dreamer."
Drones deployed instantly, fanning outward through Sector Twelve. Thermal scans. Sleep-state detection. Neural anomaly sweeps.
Seconds stretched.
Then—
"Contact," Recon reported. "Residential building. Fourth floor. Civilian male. Unconscious.
"Wake him."
Its body convulsed violently as the dream fractured. The AM threads tightened automatically, holding as the creature collapsed inward, fur unraveling into smoke.
Then—
Nothing.
The nightmare dissolved completely, leaving only scorched asphalt and trembling AM lines snapping back into place.
Silence fell hard.
Sirens wailed.
Medics arrived moments later. Ayla was transferred to a stretcher, IV lines running, oxygen mask sealed over her face as she was rushed into the ambulance.
Ren didn't look up.
Didn't move.
Akira watched the doors close.
Something heavy settled in his chest.
The transport ride back was silent.
No jokes.
No commentary.
Ren sat with his head bowed, hands clenched so tightly his knuckles had gone white. Akira stared at the floor plating. Kaito's tablet remained dark. The Misokke twins sat rigidly, hammers resting against the floor.
Even Senior Squad said nothing.
The city passed beneath them—unaware of how close it had come to losing more than it ever would know.
Akira closed his eyes.
The nightmare was gone.
But the fear—
Was still here.
END OF CHAPTER 6