Null and Infy worked in perfect sync, hands moving with mechanical precision as they secured the final components of the tunneling machine. Sparks flickered as circuits connected, and the machine came to life, its systems stabilising. The echoes of battle reverberated through the ground, but neither of them flinched. They could feel Jania and Chris holding their own.


    Then, something changed.


    A pressure, subtle at first, coiled into their minds like an invisible  pressure against their thoughts. The very air thickened, charged with static energy.


    And then, a voice—unfamiliar, playful, curling through their thoughts like a mischievous whisper.


    "The time is fast approaching. Young ones"


    Infy froze, his calculations stuttering mid-process. "Who is this?"


    The voice laughed, light and knowing, yet carrying an unsettling depth.


    "I have gone by many names. Wyrd. Moira. Providence." A pause, as if savoring the moment. "But I prefer Fate."


    Null and Infy exchanged a silent message, their work momentarily forgotten.


    Infy recovered first. "Are you an alien? Like Zero?"


    Fate''s laughter rippled through their minds, like a distant melody just beyond comprehension.


    "Oh, no. I am something more. Something fundamental."


    A sharp spike of pressure shot through their skulls, it was not painful, but overwhelming. The edges of their vision blurred, colors shifting like oil on water, rippling through the spectrum in unnatural ways. Infy energy vision was being overwhelmed.


    And then, beneath it all, they heard it.


    The Voice of the Universe. They had become accustomed to ignoring its usual, consistent drone; however, it had become distorted. Notes stretched and twisted, discordant and unfamiliar. It wasn’t the steady song they had always known. It was shifting, bending around something.


    A deep vibration were felt in the marrow of their bones, resonating with something ancient and vast. It was as if reality itself was re-tuning, adjusting to a presence that shouldn’t be there.


    Infy bristled, his calculations scattering as he processed the impossible. "The Voice, it''s reacting."


    Fate’s laughter curled through their minds like smoke, amused and unbothered.


    "Yes… because I do not belong to it. And yet, it sings for me."


    Infy bristled with a thousand calculations, each one unraveling the impossibility of what they were experiencing. But before he could process further, the voice continued.


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    "And you, my dear ones, are mine. I have chosen you to sing for me too."


    Null finally spoke, his mental voice steady despite the unease creeping into his gut. "Chosen for what?"


    Fate giggled, as if delighted by the question. "Oh, now that would be telling, which I simply can''t allow. For now, it''s time for you to be tempered."


    The presence coiled tighter, pressing against their very essence, as though reality itself was bending to its will.


    "Answers will come, all in good time... if you survive."


    And then—silence.


    The air lightened. The pressure lifted but the song still remained changed.


    His energy fluctuated like he was trembling. Null remained still, absorbing the weight of what had just occurred.


    Then, without missing a beat, Null turned back to the machine and resumed working. “Almost finished.”


    Infy hesitated. The presence still lingered in the back of his mind, like a phantom afterimage. But the mission came first. He nodded and focused back on the task.


    Then the world shifted again.


    A pulse, like the beat of a drum in the fabric of space itself. The voice of the universe was silent for a moment. The distant gunfire faltered. A strange, unnatural stillness settled over the battlefield.


    Something was coming.


    Null and Infy looked out over the battlefield in unison.


    Silhouettes approached from the horizon. Tall, unnervingly graceful. Striding forward with inhuman purpose.


    Not drones.


    Not machines.


    But organic.


    The figures ranged wildly in size, from four feet to eighteen feet tall, each one distinct yet sharing unmistakable traits. They each had red skin, curling horns, hooved feet, and eyes that burned with something ancient. Their very presence warped the air around them, distorting light in waves of heat. The ground beneath their feet blackened, seared by their mere touch.


    The textbook description of demons.


    Infy processed the visual data at lightning speed, cross-referencing with every known database that Zero had given them. No match. Not a single record of anything like this. The had primitive equipment, no armour and wielding various hand weapons or just the claws on their hands.


    Null’s mental voice was quiet. "Where did they come from?"


    They both knew the answer. Fate had done something.


    Infy tried to connect to Zero. Nothing. No connection could be made.


    A pit formed in Null’s stomach. They were on their own.


    The demons stopped, their burning eyes locking onto the two of them. Then, the largest one stepped forward, lips curling into something between a smirk and a snarl.


    It lifted a clawed hand—


    And pointed directly at Null.


    Null’s fingers twitched toward his weapons.


    Tempered.


    The word echoed in Null’s mind, a whisper of Fate’s final message.


    Infy’s mental voice was sharp. He reached out to Chris and Jania, "Get Zeph and Max and run!"


    Chris barely hesitated. He glanced at Null and knew that this wasn’t part of the competition. This was real. Whatever it was.


    Jania grabbed Chris by the arm and yanked him into motion, yelling for Max and Zeph to follow. But before they could—


    The demons struck.


    A blur of crimson and shadow moved at a speed beyond human reflex. Max never even had time to scream. One moment, he was running. The next, a hulking, four-armed beast slammed into him, its claws cutting clean through flesh, bone, and reinforced plating like they were paper.


    Max was torn in half.


    Zeph was luckier. Barely. The second demon crashed into her, sending her skidding violently across the rocky terrain. Her suit absorbed the impact, but she lay crumpled, unmoving.


    Chris nearly vomited. The sight of Max’s body or what was left of it—was too much. His stomach churned, his legs locked.


    Jania kicked him in the backside. Hard.


    "Move, damn it!"


    Her voice cut through his shock. He gasped, then forced his body into motion, chasing after her as she sprinted toward Zeph.


    Chris risked one glance over his shoulder.


    Null stood alone, surrounded by energy. The demons couldn’t escape the pull of the energy and were being dragged back.


    More demons advanced.


    Monstrous figures with burning eyes, curling horns, and towering forms stalked toward Null.


    Chris had never seen that look on Null’s face.


    Cold. Focused. Absolute.


    They weren’t going to hold back.