Right after I read the notification, I felt my eyes itch like crazy. I rubbed them with edge of my hands, making ure not to cut myself with my claws. After a moment, I opened them back up. I looked back down at the gecko monster.

  “Thank God.” I whispered under my breath. The monster was still in fact a monster and not a person. But there was another problem.

  I shot up, twirling around, prepping another use of Eternal Shade. I'd only taken one of the geckos down. There was still another. I heard a squelching sound come from behind me. Another slime blast is incoming. I whipped around with my claws at the ready.

  Jaren stood above the gecko, his double-bladed sword sticking out of the ground, straight through the gecko’s head. I exhaled through my nostrils. Another kill stolen. I shook my head, then looked at Jaren.

  “There ya are, kiddo. Had me worried for a second,” he said while pulling off his black helmet and tucking it under his arms. “Phew, getting stuffy in there.”

  His black armor was covered from shoulder to toe in splotches of blood and other viscera, both dried and fresh, some slightly obscuring the red four on his pauldron. And a huge slash mark ran down the side of the plate armor. But that wasn't the most distracting thing about the big bald half-elf.

  A raging green energy engulfed Jaren entirely. Not like the energy that surrounded his weapon when he attacked or used an ability. This was more ethereal, less tangible, and quite possibly twice as intense. Then I felt it. The same tug as earlier. Something pulled me into his emotions.

  Joy. Unabashed happiness. That was what Jaren was feeling right now. He was doing the one thing he was meant to do, fight. Not only fight but to challenge beasts so far above his own stature. And the triumph of overcoming them. Those emotions swirled around Jaren like a tempest right now. I could empathize with these feelings; they were nearly the same ones I felt whenever Predator’s Bloodlust activated. And whenever I killed in Tigris form. I grinned as I let myself partake in the energy, reveling in the thrilling positivity. All the grisly feelings from a minute ago washed away.

  Aura Sight must have more effects than just seeing people’s Aura.

  “Liam!”

  Jaren shook my shoulder, bringing me back to reality. “Huh, what?”

  “You looked like you were off in Lala land there. Is the raid getting to you?”

  I shook my head and pulled my shoulder away from his grasp. Tigris wasn’t a fan of touching, especially from those unworthy. “I’m fine, thank you. Just got distracted by something. And to answer your inquiry, no, not in the slightest. This battlefield is right where I belong. A place rife with poor sodden souls in need of a reminder of who sits above them. Of who sits at the peak of creation itself.”

  Jaren sighed. “Ah, this one. Great. Love this one. Not annoying at all. And here I thought I might get a thank you for saving your scrawny hide. But noooo, just a harumph, wiseass comment,” he said as he pulled his giant weapon from the ground, then kicked the gecko skull off of it. He looked up into the raging inferno above. “Len, old buddy, I’m trying here. I know I promised to keep him safe for you. But damn, he’s going to make it hard.”

  I scoffed. “As if. I haven’t any need of you or your protection.” I said, crossing my arms and turning my head. “Your brutish nature will only slow me down.” What the hell am I saying? OF COURSE, I need help.

  I wasn’t sure why, but Tigris form’s hubris had been turned up to the max.

  Jaren turned to me with a blank stare, then back to the sky. “One more cocky thing out of his mouth and I’mma hit him. That’s a promise I can keep.”

  “Try it, baldy!”

  He whipped around, a single vein on his forehead throbbed as he leaned down to me. His face inches from my own. I flexed my claws, not backing down from the challenge. WTF AM I DOING? Stop it already! I debated on turning the form off, but turning off my most powerful form seemed like a bad move. That is if Jaren doesn’t kill me first.

  “Sir!”

  We both slowly turned our heads to the voice. It was Daila. She stood at attention just a few feet away. Marns stood next to her, a lazy look on his face.

  “Yes?”

  “Yes?”

  Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  Jaren and I answered her in perfect unison, earning me another lethal glare from Jaren.

  Daila wasn’t as disheveled as her commanding officer was. Not a single speck of blood or brightly colored chemical stained her white leather armor. The only thing that hinted at the fact that she was in fact fighting in a large-scale battle was her hair. The normally tight woven bun was a hilariously messy bun now, as if she had just thrown it together before speaking with us. It was barely being contained by a few small pins from the looks of it. She held her hands behind her back, keeping her usual composure as well. Yet something was off. Probably the giant lime green aura that whirled around her head like a tempest. It was easily twice the size of Jaren’s, and violent. Though its color was similar, the emotions streaming off of her were vastly different.

  They weren’t waves of thrill or joy, but curiosity. Like with each surge came a question. A morbid one. I couldn’t read her thoughts or anything, but if I had to guess they were filled with grim what-ifs like a mad scientist yearning to run as many unsolicited and wildly unethical experiments as she could. Consequences be damned.

  Though these feelings came off far stronger than Jaren’s, I didn’t find myself diving into them.

  Maybe the color doesn’t matter? Or it’s different for everybody. Before I could think further Daila spoke up again.

  She directed her words to Jaren. “Ahem. Commander, we have a break in the battle. All of the Feral that attacked our squad have been dealt with accordingly. But reports show that more are on the way. The weaker squads are having trouble with them.” A lock of her hair flung from its confines as she spoke, launching one of the small metal pins off to god-know-where. But she continued to report without stopping for a second.“We have only a small window of respite here. I suggest we use it to rest. I can have B3 sub in for us in the meantime. They are well suited to handling bipeds. The boss should be here within the next couple of minutes. As I understand it, we are the vanguard for that.”

  I nodded my head, then responded to her before Jaren could. “Thank you for the status update, Daila. I agree. Our troops could use a break. Have them rest for the time being. Are there any injuries I should be aware of? Also, could you elaborate on what you mean by ‘dealt with accordingly?’ From how Marns reacted to them, this seemed to be a, mmm, unique situation. Oh, one more thing, where are my underlings?”

  Three other veins popped out of the giant half elf’s bare head as the green aura surrounding him began to tinge red at the edges. He opened his mouth to complain or yell. Probably yell. But surprisingly Daila answered before Jaren’s rampage.

  “Only Tonsi. He took quite the beating during the Titan Reptan clash. A broken forearm. Shaws is taking him to Medical Tent Alpha.” Daila replied candidly, as she usually did, but for a moment her aura changed. Bright pink mixed in with the green. I wondered what that meant. It flashed by so quickly that I couldn’t get a good grip on the emotion.

  “Your, ahem, underlings are just over there.” She pointed off in the distance. Sure enough, Tawny and Hait sat a few feet away, surrounded by some of Jaren’s squad.

  “For your last question.” She took a deep breath, and all of the aura swirling around her halted. The lime green aura died down, returning to her body. Then a solid unmoving blue, one similar to Marns’, replaced it. “You are right, we’ve never seen this before. We did what we had to. They were eliminated.”

  Jaren shut his eyes, then shook his head slowly. His aura calmed down as well, matching Daila’s.

  “Was…is there no other way?”

  “Not this time, lad. Once you’ve fully morphed there ain't no way back. The gene takes over completely. Killing them is a mercy at that point.”

  “But why? Why are they here in the first place?” I asked.

  “We don’t know. Maybe this whole group morphed at once and just joined in with the monsters?”

  “That’d be a hell of a coincidence. One for the bloody archives.”

  “I know Sir, but it's leagues better than the alternative answer.”

  “What's the alternative?”

  Daila and Jaren looked over at me. Jaren answered. “That this was all planned from the start.”

  “Planned, but how? I thought these raids were just a natural occurrence. Like a storm or an earthquake.”

  “Don’t know. None of this raid makes a lick of sense.”

  “Yes, Sir, but you may be right.”

  I tilted my head. “That the Ferals planned all of this?”

  “Yes. From the holes, the subsequent archers above them, and finally to the delayed Final Wave. All of it feels quite, well for lack of a better word, planned.”

  She had a point, even if this was my first raid proper too much felt odd. I thought back on the archers above the holes. How they moved together as a unit, helping each other off the ground. How they retreated. None of it was very monster-like.

  Jaren opened his eyes wide as if a lightbulb went off in his head. He turned back up to the flame-filled sky. “You don’t think? Ah, shitbirds.”

  “What?” I asked.

  “We’ve been playing into their hands this whole time. They knew Len was the only one capable of lighting the night up like this. And that it would take all of his concentration.”

  “Which means what exactly?”

  “It means the worst is yet to come. If I’m right, and First Ones above I hope I’m not, that this raid is about to turn into a war.”

  “A war?”

  But before he spoke, a short man, possibly a gnome, in a hooded cloak ran up to Daila. He whispered something into her ear before running off, toward the next squad over.

  Daila’s aura spiked orange while the gnome spoke. She turned to us.

  “The boss is here.”