The connection was visceral.

Reed sat on the dais in the Core Chamber, eyes closed, hands pressed against the crystal. He wasn't just watching the raid; he was feeling it.

Through the [Core Link], he felt the cold wind of the Necropolis whipping against Riva's feathers. He felt the intense, magma-fueled heat of Seraphine's armor. He felt the hydraulic grinding of Terra's joints.

And he felt their emotions.

Grika's manic glee. Seraphine's haughty rage. Luma's determined protectiveness.

"Breach," Reed whispered, pushing his mana through the link. "Now."

The Necropolis – The Front Gate

Terra didn't knock. She didn't besiege. She swung.

The massive Peacekeeper rocket-hammer flared. The thruster on the back ignited with a roar of blue magical fire.

"KNOCK KNOCK," Terra boomed.

CRAAAACK-BOOM.

The obsidian gates of Malakor's fortress didn't just break; they vaporized. Shards of black stone rained down like hail.

Seraphine slithered through the dust cloud. She was a beacon of gold and emerald light in the grey wasteland. Her thermal suit was glowing white-hot, supercharged by Reed's mana.

"Come and get me, trash!" she roared, sweeping her tail.

A phalanx of skeletal warriors charged her.

Seraphine laughed. She didn't use her spear. She just rolled over them. Her heated scales melted through rusty armor and brittle bone like a hot knife through butter.

"Too crunchy!" she mocked. "No texture!"

Maira stood behind them, dual-wielding spray bottles filled with Holy Water Concentrate.

"Sanitation in progress," Maira stated, spraying a mist that caused ghouls to dissolve into screaming puddles. "This entire zip code is a code violation."

The Rear Echelon

While the chaos unfolded at the front, a shadow fell over the Bone Pit.

Riva dropped from the smog-choked sky. She released the "package."

Grika and Luma landed on a balcony overlooking the main ritual spire.

"Stealth mode," Grika whispered, slapping a Sticky Bomb onto a lock. "And by stealth, I mean 'loud distraction.'"

BOOM.

The door blew inward.

They rushed into the spire.

There she was.

The Banshee.

She hovered in the center of a cage made of green necrotic lightning. She looked… faded. Her spectral form was flickering, her long, pale hair floating in a phantom wind. Her eyes were hollow voids of despair.

She looked up as the door exploded.

"Who…?" she whispered. Her voice was a mournful echo.

"Rescue Squad!" Luma announced, bouncing into the room. She was in her solid Siren form, glowing brilliantly.

The Banshee stared. "A… slime? And a goblin?"

"And a headache for your boss," Grika grinned. She ran to the cage. "Luma! The bars are magic. Can you eat them?"

"I can drink them!" Luma chirped.

She walked up to the lightning bars. She didn't flinch. She pressed her hands against the energy.

SLURP.

Luma absorbed the necrotic mana. It turned her a sickly green for a second, then her internal filters processed it, and she burped a cloud of harmless steam.

"Spicy!" Luma giggled.

The cage flickered and died.

The Banshee drifted to the floor, her chains clattering. She looked weak. She looked like she was about to dissipate.

"I cannot… move," the Banshee wept. "My essence is tied to the Spire. If I leave… I fade."

"Not on my watch," Reed's voice spoke through Luma.

Luma's eyes glowed with Reed's gold mana.

"System Override," Reed channeled. "Designation: Soul Vessel."

"Luma," Reed commanded remotely. "Carry her. Internal containment."

Luma nodded. She stepped forward.

"It's okay," Luma told the ghost. "Come inside. It's warm."

Luma opened her arms. She softened her chest cavity, creating a hollow space.

The Banshee hesitated. Then, looking at the chaos outside, she drifted forward.

She merged into Luma.

Luma gasped. Her body swirled with pearlescent white mist as the Banshee settled safely inside her gel, suspended like a jewel in amber.

"Got her!" Luma cheered. "She tickles!"

"Exfiltrate!" Grika yelled. "Riva! Pickup!"

The Confrontation

Malakor appeared on the upper balcony. His skin-robe flapped in the wind. His eyes burned with green fury.

"THIEVES!" he shrieked. "YOU DARE TOUCH MY PROPERTY?!"

He raised his skull staff.

The ground shook. From the bone pit, a massive hand emerged. Then another.

A Bone Dragon, constructed from the remains of a thousand lizards, crawled out of the earth. It roared, a sound of dry rattling death.

"Kill them!" Malakor commanded. "Leave nothing but paste!"

The Bone Dragon lunged at Terra and Seraphine.

"Big dog," Terra rumbled. She revved her hammer.

"Run!" Reed shouted through the link. "We have the package! Don't fight the Kaiju!"

"But I want to hit it!" Terra complained.

"Tactical retreat!" Maira ordered, throwing a smoke bomb (perfume scented).

Riva swooped down, grabbing Grika and Luma (who was carrying the Banshee). Terra grabbed Seraphine and Maira, scooping them up in her massive arms.

"Turbo Mode!" Terra shouted.

The thrusters on her back and on her hammer ignited.

She didn't run. She skated. Using the rocket-hammer as a propellant, the massive stone golem slid across the wasteland like a high-speed tank.

Malakor screamed in rage as his Bone Dragon snapped its jaws on empty air.

"I WILL FIND YOU!" Malakor howled. "I WILL CRACK YOUR CORE!"

The Return

They crashed into the dungeon entrance just as the sun began to rise.

Terra skidded to a halt in the corridor, sparks flying from her iron heels. She dumped everyone onto the floor.

"Mission… Successful," Terra wheezed, her cooling vents hissing steam.

Reed was there instantly. He ran from the Core Chamber, sliding on his knees to catch Luma as she wobbled.

"Is she safe?" Reed asked.

Luma nodded. She patted her chest. Inside her translucent blue form, a white, ghostly shape was curled up, sleeping.

"She's napping," Luma whispered. "She was very tired."

Reed looked at his team.

Seraphine was covered in bone dust, her armor scratched but intact. Grika was missing an eyebrow (singed off). Riva was missing a few feathers. Maira was meticulously cleaning a speck of dirt off her cheek.

They were battered. They were exhausted.

And they were smiling.

"We did it," Grika breathed. "We raided a Necropolis and stole his waifu."

"We liberated a hostage," Maira corrected.

Seraphine slithered over to Reed. She wrapped a tired coil around his waist and pulled him close.

"My Lord," she murmured, resting her forehead against his. "I am… drained. The combat… the heat… I need…"

"Recharge," Reed finished.

He looked at them. They had fought for him. They had bled (or chipped) for him.

"Everyone to the Core Chamber," Reed ordered softly. "Big bed. Now."

The Victory Pile

The Core Chamber was warm. The crystal pulsed with a soothing, slow rhythm.

They were all on the bed. It was a tangle of limbs, tails, wings, and slime.

Reed lay in the center.

Seraphine was wrapped around his right side, her tail acting as a weighted blanket over the whole group. Her thermal suit was cooling, but she was leeching heat from Reed like a furnace.

Grika was curled against his left side, her head on his chest, snoring softly.

Riva was perched on the headboard, but she had draped her wings over Reed's head, grooming his hair with her beak.

Terra sat on the floor, leaning her back against the bed. She was in "Sleep Mode," but her hand was resting protectively on Reed's ankle.

And Luma… Luma lay on top of him.

Slowly, the white mist inside her began to separate.

The Banshee flowed out of Luma. She solidified on the bed, hovering slightly.

She was pale, ethereal, and devastatingly beautiful in a tragic, gothic way. She wore tattered grey robes. Her eyes were silver.

She looked around the room. She saw the goblin drooling. She saw the snake hugging. She saw the slime glowing.

She looked at Reed.

"Where… am I?" she whispered. Her voice was like wind in the trees.

"You're safe," Reed said quietly. "You're in the Teasing Tomb."

The Banshee blinked. She sniffed the air.

"I smell… pizza?"

"Leftovers," Reed smiled. "I'm Reed. This is the family."

The Banshee looked at the pile of cuddling monsters. She looked at the lack of chains. She looked at the Core, which pulsed with warmth, not cold command.

"He… he fed on my pain," the Banshee whispered, tears forming in her silver eyes. "He used my screams."

"We don't do that here," Reed said. He reached out a hand.

She flinched.

"We feed on… other things," Reed said gently. "Joy. Excitement. Relief."

He gestured to the bed.

"Love, mostly. And pizza."

The Banshee looked at his hand. She reached out. Her fingers were cold, incorporeal mist.

"I feel… empty," she said. "I have no purpose."

"You have a purpose," Reed promised. "Rest. Heal. And when you're ready… maybe you can teach us how to scream at the bad guys."

She smiled. It was a faint, fragile thing.

"I am Elara," she whispered.

She drifted down. She didn't take a spot on the bed—she wasn't ready for touch yet. She floated above them, like a guardian angel.

"Thank you."

As his family slept, Reed lay awake.

He pulled up the System.

[ACT 2 COMPLETE]

Objective: Rescue Successful.

New Resident: Elara (Banshee).

Mana: Drained (Recharging).

He felt good. They had won.

But then, the red warning window popped up again.

[ALERT] Rival Core Status: Enraged.

Action: Escalation.

Incoming: The Necromancer has contacted the Dungeon Authority.

Report Filed: "Illegal Aberrant Activity."

Reed went cold.

Malakor hadn't just declared war. He had snitched.

He had called the cops.

"He told Kaelen," Reed whispered to the dark.

Malakor couldn't beat them alone, so he had summoned the Inquisitor.

Reed looked at his sleeping family. At the fragile ghost floating above him. At the chaotic, wonderful home they had built.

"Let her come," Reed thought, his hand finding Seraphine's scales in the dark.

Reed closed his eyes.

"We're going to need a bigger wall."

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