Spear

All around them, Usak's illusions surged forward in unison, each moving with eerie, synchronized precision. The air seemed to fill with writhing tentacles, a dense wave of darkness descending on the team.

They knew most of them weren't real—just figments conjured to throw them off balance. But which tentacles were real? With so many crashing down, separating reality from illusion was like trying to see through a thick, unbroken fog.

Ivan Petrov darted to the side, firing as he moved, but his bullets passed through the phantoms, their smoky forms breaking apart only to reform an instant later. The illusions didn't falter, pressing in with that same calm, mechanical relentlessness.

But one person could see through it.

"Larry, three o'clock!" Duan voice cut through the commotion. She, with her sonar ability, was the team's one chance at clarity in this chaos.

Ducking behind the cover of his teammates, Duan quickly released a wave of sound, painting a mental image in her mind. She could see the contours of the battlefield, mapping out the swarm of illusions, and marking the one real Usak hiding among them.

Larry Wade didn't hesitate. With Duan's words in his mind, he willed his Phantom forward, taking to the air. A streak of blue lightning arced out from him, slicing through the night and hitting one of the Usaks dead on.

Duan's call was spot-on. Thunder rumbled as electricity lit up Usak's true form, burning through him and rippling out to destroy the nearby phantoms, which dissolved like smoke caught in the wind. The real Usak stumbled back, his body shaken by the impact, one knee dropping to the ground as he braced himself.

"Nice shot!" Ivan didn't waste a second, shifting his aim as he shouted to the team. "Everyone—hit him hard! Don't let him catch his breath!"

Lightning, bullets, and blasts of energy converged on Usak from all directions. His illusions scattered like leaves in a storm, and the team's shadows and Phantoms surged in from every angle.

The constant barrage rang in Usak's ears, a wall of explosive sound as shockwaves hammered his body. It was like standing alone on a battlefield, surrounded, with no one to call for help. No reinforcements. No allies. Just him, cut off from everything, fighting an army alone in a dead, forsaken place.

The scene awoke an old memory, one so distant it was almost buried. But now, caught in this nightmare of isolation and desperation, he could see it as clearly as if it had just happened.

He remembered that battle, a war waged countless lives ago, in the days when the ancients still fought amongst themselves. He had followed Ophelia then, as he did in every life, every incarnation, without question.

But that time, she had left him behind.

It hadn't been personal. To her, it was just a tactical decision. Usak wasn't a warrior, not by ancient standards. His illusions might confound humans, but against his own kind, they were little more than tricks. Disposable. His loyalty was his only distinguishing trait, making him a convenient piece to sacrifice.

Usak had understood this, even as he was left to face enemies ten times his strength, fighting alone until his energy was spent, his form shattered, his spirit clinging by a thread. He hadn't resented her for it. When, against all odds, he managed to survive, he had dragged himself back to her, exhausted and bleeding, barely able to keep his shape.

He remembered the briefest flicker of surprise on her face. "Oh, you're still alive?"

He had forced a smile, one that he hoped looked natural. "Yes, Lady Ophelia. I got lucky…"

She had simply waved him off, already turning back to her strategy discussions. "Go recover. I'm busy."

"…Yes, Lady Ophelia," he had replied, his voice barely audible.

It had always been like this, every lifetime, every rebirth. He followed her, and if he survived, he could prove his worth. It was an unspoken pact, one that required him to show he was worth the sacrifice. A pawn's value was in its usefulness. If he was discarded, it was only because he had failed to prove himself worthy.

Now, he would give everything he had for her, one final time.

A deep roar tore through his body as it began to swell, his flesh expanding and stretching until he looked ready to burst.

With a visceral heave, Usak's form exploded outward, a grotesque figure towering over the humans. His mountainous body rose from the ground, every part of him rippling with barely-contained power, while thick tentacles flared out like darkened blades, the entire spectacle casting a shadow over the battlefield. Two pairs of beady, slit-like eyes fixed on the team below with an expression of cold, emotionless fury.

"Uh… Captain?" Larry's Phantom backed away, glancing at Ivan with a mix of unease and awe. "He just… got bigger."

Ivan cursed under his breath, training his gun on Usak's enlarged form. "Alright… what's the plan now?"

But there wasn't time for a response. Usak let out a primal, guttural scream, his tentacles surging down toward them like the fists of a vengeful god.

"Move!" Ivan yelled.

They scattered in all directions. Each member of the team used their unique abilities to dodge and evade, flares of lightning and bullets streaking up at the monster. Larry's Phantom lunged at Usak, slamming a hand into his side with a blast of energy, but the giant barely flinched.

Usak knew this transformation was his endgame. The moment he had chosen to reveal his true form, he had known escape was out of reach.

Laitos, the recently revived ancient, was more powerful than him, and Leila's combat prowess outmatched his own in every way. But they had both been captured, and he wasn't about to fare any better.

None of that mattered. If he could buy even a moment for Ophelia, his fate was irrelevant.

Suddenly, a streak of fire lit up the sky, and a blazing fireball struck Usak in the chest, the searing impact carving into his flesh. Usak roared in pain, his head snapping up to find a flaming figure descending from above.

It was Leila, her body wreathed in flames, diving toward him with the speed and precision of a missile, her hands outstretched. One fireball after another rained down from her, each explosion charring the earth around him and leaving jagged, splintered craters in its wake.

"Leila!" Usak's voice was a strangled, bitter cry. "You traitor! You're fighting for the humans now?"

He tried to pull back, shielding himself with his tentacles, but her fireballs were relentless, each one cutting through his defenses.

Ivan, brushing dirt from his face, looked up at the blazing figure with a mix of disbelief and grim satisfaction. "So they really put the Phoenix out here?"

It was a gamble, he knew. The ancients' power was well-known, and once Leila was loose, containing her again would be anything but easy.

But they must have had a plan in place, or they wouldn't have dared let her out.

While Leila bombarded Usak from above, she shouted, "Where's Ophelia?"

Usak spat a glob of dark blood, his voice a furious snarl. "You'll find out when I'm dead!"

She only shook her head, her expression as icy as the flames were hot. "So sad, as always. Then let's end this."

…

Something felt wrong.

Not just to Leila, but to the whole team. As the battle stretched on, an unsettling sense of something off crept into their minds.

It hadn't been noticeable when Usak was still using his illusions. But since he'd transformed, that feeling had grown stronger, a subtle but nagging sense that something about this whole situation was out of place.

The fight was reaching its end.

Leila's power, agility, and combat skills were overwhelming. She was a born fighter, and she knew how to use her abilities to devastating effect. Usak, on the other hand, was an illusionist—not a warrior. His body couldn't keep up with her power, and his illusions had no impact against her flames.

They say history repeats itself, and in Usak's case, that felt all too true.

Once again, he was alone, abandoned by Ophelia. And once again, he fought until his last drop of strength drained away, his life stretched to its very limit.

If he survived, it would mean he still had some value. He could return to Ophelia, serve her again, and wait to prove himself once more. If not, then his purpose had ended.

But his luck had finally run out.

With a final, pained cry, Usak's massive body collapsed, crashing into the ground with a deafening roar. Dust rose in clouds around him, the earth splitting beneath his weight.

"Is that it?" Larry's Phantom muttered, sounding almost skeptical.

"Hold on," Duan voice was sharp, her gaze fixed on the fallen figure. "Something's wrong…"

A blinding explosion of light filled the sky, as a whirlwind of energy shot down like a thunderbolt from the heavens, piercing the ground like a spear.