The cloaked figure surged forward, its limbs propelled by inhuman speed. Purple energy crackled across its arms, forming twin blades of condensed force. Each footstep it took left scorch marks on the stone floor, vibrating with kinetic pressure. Its cloak rippled behind it like smoke in a storm, revealing flashes of the runic armor beneath. The runes glowed with each movement, syncing with the pulse of the chamber's obelisks.
Alexander raised a hand, and the shadows around him erupted, forming a jagged wall of defense. The energy blades slammed into it with a deafening crack, scattering fragments of darkness like ash in a whirlwind. Sparks exploded from the impact. Noctis appeared beside the figure in a blur, his blade aimed for its exposed side—but the creature twisted unnaturally, bones seeming to dislocate and reattach in one fluid movement, deflecting the strike with a gauntleted elbow.
"Adaptive combat matrix," Vasili shouted from behind a pillar, his voice edged with urgency. He was scanning the figure with a portable device, sweat dripping down his brow. "It's learning every second it fights!"
Alexander summoned a lance of shadow and hurled it with brutal precision. The weapon tore through the air and struck true—piercing the figure's torso. For a brief moment, there was silence.
Then the wound hissed.
The flesh-like alloy sealed itself, purple circuits flaring like veins in the skin of a living machine. The Sentinel stepped forward, unfazed.
"Then we don't give it time to adapt," Alexander growled, his eyes narrowing.
He launched himself forward. Their clash sent shockwaves through the chamber, each collision a mix of blackened force and brilliant violet energy. The Sentinel moved like a ghost—silent, brutal, and predictive. It countered not only Alexander's moves but seemed to anticipate variations he hadn't even made yet.
Noctis rejoined the fray, using distraction tactics—phase shifting in and out of strikes, creating openings—but each time, the Sentinel adapted faster. Blades missed by inches. Feints were seen through. The figure wasn't just learning—it was evolving.
"Its memory isn't just instinct," Noctis called out. "It's been trained. Programmed. By who?"
Alexander spun into a vortex of shadows, disorienting the creature for a half-second. "That's what I want to know."
The obelisks surrounding the chamber began to react, pulsing faster. The countdown overhead, once steady, now ticked faster by barely perceptible margins. The entire chamber felt alive—as if watching them.
Vasili ducked as a shockwave cracked through a column near him, debris raining from the ceiling. "The longer we're here, the more this place reacts to us. We might be fueling it."
With a roar, Alexander channeled his energy into a focused strike. Shadow tendrils spiraled from his body, condensing into a tight spear that ignited with unnatural heat. He hurled it with all his might. The projectile tore through the air and detonated against the creature's chest.
The explosion sent shockwaves through the room, hurling dust and fragments of ancient stone. The Sentinel slammed into the far wall, embedding into the molten rock. Its armor sparked and hissed, steam rising from its chestplate. A faint ripple of force pulsed outward as its internal systems began rerouting power.
Alexander remained motionless, panting slightly, his fists clenched. "Stay down."
But the figure twitched.
It rose.
Slowly. Deliberately.
A faint shimmer traveled across its body, reinforcing damaged segments. A mask-like faceplate turned toward Alexander, glowing with renewed intensity.
Alexander narrowed his eyes. "I've had enough."
He opened his palm—and for the first time since entering the facility, the shadows obeyed without resistance. They surged upward, forming a massive spear of coalesced darkness. The chamber dimmed, the light pulled inward toward the forming weapon. Energy spiraled around him, pulsing in harmony with his heartbeat.
But before he could strike—
The sphere above them pulsed violently. A bass hum shook the walls, and flickers of data raced across every surface. Sparks flew from a nearby console. The projection overhead changed.
Dozens of satellite paths. Glowing red.
One of them blinked—and then dimmed entirely.
A voice echoed once more, layered with static:
"Sentinel override detected. Sequence unstable. Interference… external."
A second satellite blinked out.
Then a third.
Vasili looked up, horror dawning in his eyes. "Someone's interfering. From outside. They're hijacking the satellites. This countdown—someone's trying to accelerate or collapse the protocol."
Alexander's expression darkened. "Then this isn't just a test facility. It's a battlefield."
From the smoke near the far wall, the cloaked figure stood again. Its frame realigned with a series of loud clicks. Purple light bled from the cracks in its armor.
But now, it was no longer alone.
Across the chamber, three more figures phased into existence—glitching slightly, as if reality itself had trouble rendering them. Each one was different in form: one carried a halberd of energy, another floated inches off the ground with elongated limbs, and the last had no visible head—just a mask-like plate embedded in its chest.
All armed.
All active.
The shadows around Alexander coiled tighter.
Noctis stepped beside him. "Looks like they brought friends."
Alexander narrowed his gaze, raising his hand as the four Sentinels advanced.
"Then let's give them a welcome."
End of Chapter 89
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