"Run!" Lyra screamed, abandoning all stealth.

Following this shout, the desert beneath them convulsed.

Three colossal shadows blotted out the stars. As the Ancient War Titans fully straightened their spines, centuries of sand cascaded off their stone shoulders like waterfalls.

At three hundred feet tall, they were mountains given hate and form.

VWMMM.

Their eyes, massive pits carved into rune-etched stone, ignited with sickly green soul-fire.

They scanned the desert floor, searching for the mana signature that had dared to sting them.

"Move!" Lyra screamed, her voice cracking against the roar of the wind. "Don't look at them! Just run!"

The strike team sprinted across the shifting dunes, their stealth cloaks Lyra' s protective mana shattered by the sheer magical pressure rolling off the giants.

Alaric dragged Elena up a slope. Lukas stumbled, his heavy gauntlets smoking, his breath ragged.

"To the West!" Lyra commanded. "If we reach the rocks, we can—"

She stopped.

To the West, a cloud of dust was rising. Through the gloom, hundreds of six-legged, corrupted horses galloped toward them.

Their riders wore the black and gold armor of the Dragon empire Vanguard.

"Damn! They flanked us," Alaric growled, skidding to a halt. He hefted The Anvil, his knuckles white. "We're cut off."

Behind them, the lead Titan turned its massive head. The green light of its eyes focused directly on the four tiny figures trapped in the valley.

The runes on its forehead flared blindingly bright.

HUMMMMM-CRACK!

A beam of concentrated mana, thick as a castle tower, erupted from the Titan's face.

Fortunately, it missed by fifty feet. But it didn't matter.

The beam struck a massive sand dune next to them. There was no explosion, only instantaneous vaporization.

The sand turned to glass, then to mist. The shockwave hit the team like a physical hammer.

"GAAH!"

Alaric and Elena were thrown through the air, tumbling violently down the slope. Lukas tried to raise a shield with his gauntlets, but the heat override alarm screamed in his mind, and he was knocked flat.

Lyra rolled to a stop, coughing up grit. She looked up.

The Titan was recharging. The Cavalry was closing in, their lances lowered. They were trapped in a glass bowl, waiting to be exterminated.

'We can't fight this,' Lyra realized, her heart hammering against her ribs.

Closing her eyes, she suddenly concentrated on the contract gem connection in her soul.

She closed her eyes, ignoring the thundering hooves of the knights. She dove into her mind, searching for the golden thread that connected all of Damien's vassals.

'Alfred,' she projected, pouring her desperation into the link. 'Coordinates enclosed. Extermination Level Threat. Requesting extraction.'

…....

[Location: The Dwarven Kingdom – Ironforge War Room]

The War Room was quiet, save for the hum of the holographic map.

Alfred stood by the obsidian sideboard, holding a porcelain teapot. He was carefully pouring Earl Grey into a delicate cup for King Durin.

Steam curled lazily from the spout.

Suddenly, Alfred stopped.

His hand remained perfectly steady. But behind his wire-rimmed glasses, his eyes, usually a polite brown, flashed pitch black.

The golden thread in his soul vibrated.

'Understood, Miss Lyra.'

Alfred set the teapot down. Not a drop was spilled.

"Excuse me, Your Majesty," Alfred said, his voice smooth and unhurried.

King Durin looked up from the map, brow furrowed. "What is it, Did you forget something?"

Alfred adjusted his cuffs.

"I have a package to retrieve. I shall return momentarily."

He took a step forward.

The air around him suddenly tore. A vertical slit of absolute darkness opened in the War Room. Alfred stepped into it and vanished.

…....

[Location: The Sands of Drulgar]

"Surrender!" the Dragon empire Commander roared, reining in his six-legged steed.

The Cavalry had formed a circle around the battered strike team. The knights leveled their lances, the tips glowing with dark mana.

Alaric struggled to his feet, blood trickling from his forehead. He stood over Elena and Lukas, raising his massive iron sword.

"Come and get it, you Bastards!" Alaric bellowed.

The Commander sneered. "Kill the boy. Take the Elf alive. The Prince would probably want her."

"CHARGE!"

Fifty knights kicked their mounts into a gallop. The ground shook.

Alaric braced himself for the impact, knowing he couldn't stop them all.

SNAP.

The sound of a finger snap echoed across the valley, louder than the thunder of hooves.

The space between Alaric and the charging knights distorted. It folded in on itself like crumpled paper.

A silhouette stepped out of the fold.

He wore a pristine black tailcoat, white gloves, and polished dress shoes that seemed terrified to touch the dirty sand.

The Dragon empire Commander blinked. "What the—"

Alfred stood calmly in the path of the charge. He adjusted his glasses.

[Original Art: Spatial Displacement].

He flicked his wrist upward.

WHOOSH.

The twenty knights in the front line didn't hit him. In fact, they didn't hit anything.

Suddenly, they were no longer on the ground. They were fifty feet in the air.

The momentum of their charge carried them forward into the empty sky, their horses flailing in panic.

Gravity took a moment to realize what had happened, then asserted itself.

CRASH. CRUNCH. THUD.

It rained knights.

Armor crumpled, bones snapped, and horses screamed as the vanguard plummeted from the sky, landing in a heap of broken metal and flesh around Alfred.

The remaining cavalry skidded to a halt, their beasts rearing in terror at the sudden, impossible violence.

Alfred dusted a speck of sand off his shoulder.

"My apologies," the butler said, his voice cutting through the screams of the fallen.

"I hate to interrupt a charge, but we are on a tight schedule."

"Alfred!" Lyra gasped, clutching her bruised ribs.

HUMMMMM.

The sky turned green.

The Lead Titan had finished charging. It saw the new mana signature, a threat. It lowered its head, the rune-cannon locking onto Alfred's position.

"Sir Alfred, move!" Alaric screamed. "It's not something we can handle!"

Alfred looked up at the mountain-sized construct. He didn't look impressed rather he looked annoyed.

"Uncouth," Alfred muttered.

He turned to the group.

"Hold onto my coat," he ordered sharply. "Do not let go."

Lukas and Elena scrambled up, grabbing the tails of his suit. Lyra grabbed his arm. Alaric grabbed his shoulder.

The Titan fired.

A beam of pure annihilation, brighter than the sun, screamed toward them.

Alfred closed his eyes.

[Original Art: Mass Shift].

The space around them didn't just bend; it collapsed into a singularity.

ZWOOP.

They imploded.

A millisecond later, the Titan's beam struck the earth. The valley was consumed in a blinding explosion of green fire and molten glass.

But there was no one there to burn.

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