The two sides—the good versus the mad—clashed violently.

Seventeen against twenty.

The cultists, unfortunately, gained a few more members to their insidious cause as the Tier I’s were gathering survivors, unable to do anything about it.

All were wielding a variety of sharp and blunt implements.

Now that Georgy’s sound muffler became useless, the deranged war cries and thundering gunfire spanned the Chalice beachfront without resistance.

Xander and his side were on the south from a bird's eye view.

Anna, Xander, and Georgy comprised the left-wing while the right-wing consisted of Chico, Enzo, and Ben, with the two Baltazars staying at the outermost edges.

Finally, their eleven friends and the odd resort employee made up the center.

Though Xander didn’t explain why he suggested such a formation—partly because he thought of it on the spot—and partly because Xander wanted the Tier I’s to get to their captured classmates as quickly as possible as their positions gave them more freedom.

Of course, that meant the center of non-users had to bear the brunt of cultists, so the crucial point was inflicting as many casualties on the other side, and for the Tier I’s to disengage as fast as possible and rush the ritual site.

The initiative, speed, and bullets were their most vital points.

Xander and his compatriots had the initial advantage. A hail of bullets and a good surround caught the cultists off guard. The shooters on his side stayed put as they leveled their guns at the enemy. The rest, especially their civilian classmates, were rooted on the spot and raised their weapons, and attempted to drown their fear with their yells.

A mix of good-old-fashioned lead, Lustrous Steel slugs, and paralyzing blue pulses soared across the beach and perforated a handful of the Thrall’s compatriots.

There were, unfortunately, more than just a handful. Despite the quick and precise fire from Xander, Anna, and Ben—marksmanship coached by lolo Marcus—trying to down a frenzied maniac charging without regard for non-lethal injuries proved difficult to repeat a second time.

“These guys are unbelievable!” Anna shouted, galled, “do they not feel pain!?”

Still, these three benefited from more rigid nerves, Xander and Anna for having since been in a few brawls and Ben for naturally being more stoic. After their initial kills, the three disappointedly settled for inflicting as much damage to the next foe.

Enzo, Chico, and Georgy's aims were much poorer in comparison. Though their more accurate friends taught them, it was simply a one-time occurrence and only proved how abysmal their gun handling was.

They were lucky enough to down a single cultist before they had to holster—or hastily drop—their guns and engage in close-quarters combat.

In the end, the number advantage of the cultists dropped by four, and another two were injured, reducing their forces to fifteen, including the Thrall, who had yet to join the fight—smiling as he was at the back content.

“Dance, my adopted siblings! Teach these simple-minded humans the folly of their ways!” The mad leader shouted gleefully as he stood beside two cultists acting as his guards, the light of the bonfire outlining him in an orange glow in contrast to the dark night.

Xander and the rest of the shooters brought their sights onto the enemy leader initially, but his posse of crazed goons annoyingly blocked the man from their shots. Xander grimaced at their failure to decapitate the snake as his first shot landed on a cultist’s shoulder beside the Thrall.

The Conscript fired four more bullets from his .357 S&W. Two struck the nearest cultist in the chest, throwing the madman back. The third bullet hit the next cultist’s arm but only staggered the foe. Xander frantically fired the fourth bullet in haste, once again striking the crazed man in the shoulder but failing to down him.

As the distance between both sides became narrower, Xander and his friends all braced at the impact a second later.

Once the ranged battle ended, the ensuing melee revealed the inadequacy of the rescuers.

The Tier I’s—enhanced from their priming genetic boosters to a level that was at least in a highly fit shape—managed to resist the initial collision.

Xander gritted his teeth as a cultist used his momentum to throw himself at his energy shield.

What ensued was a pushing match between the two as the cultist attempted to pull on the edges of the shield down and attempted to bite at Xander’s face.

“What the hell! No biting, damn it!”

The Conscript remained stalwart. His Might-enhanced muscles proved too much for the cultist—despite overexerting himself to make up for the disparity in strength.

However, what proved the better boon was that Xander had one more bullet in his revolver, and he could pass the barrel through his energy shield.

A loud bang echoed from his hand cannon and shattered the cultist’s sternum. The lead bullet pierced through flesh with little resistance and exited out the back, breaking the spine.

Xander kneeled on the ground as he loaded two more bullets before he had to snap the drum back and aim at the next frenzied human—his first shot narrowly missing his opponent.

“Shit! Let me breathe, first—Argh!

Close to where Xander was fighting, Anna holstered her Slugger and drew out a bolo, a Filipino machete mainly used for farming and chopping wood. Anna bared the wrought steel single-edged blade forward as she attempted to dissuade an oncoming female cultist from impaling herself.

Anna furiously shouted and swung her machete through the air.

The Tier I successfully stopped the madwoman’s charge, though the cultist smiled wickedly and laughed at the intimidation attempt.

“Let’s play, girl~” the woman cooed in a sing-songy voice as she walked side to side, “play with me!”

“Go to hell, you bitch!”

The woman rushed at Anna with a metal pipe. Anna panicked at the sudden charge, unused as she was to fighting at such close range due to her preference for guns.

Anna swiped her bolo in a diagonal slash, but her attack went wide as the cultist dodged to her side and counter-attacked with a heavy blow.

“ARGH!” Anna yowled in pain as the metal pipe struck her right upper arm.

Anna was brimming with adrenaline but still felt the concussive blow rattle her humerus. The madwoman wildly swung her pipe again at Anna’s ribs, but the Conscript stumbled out of the way and clumsily parried the attack.

As the cultist ceaselessly struck, Anna kept falling back, dodging and blocking.

“I. Need. Help!” Anna staggeredly shouted to anyone, “now!”

Xander noticing her distress attempted to disengage from his current opponent, but the cultist he was fighting placed himself between him and his partner.

“Hold on, Anna!”

Xander swung his battle hammer with his right hand—missed—at the bleeding cultist he had previously shot before being forced to holster his empty firearm.

Georgy, who was at Xander’s right, performed worse than his two friends. His motions were slower and less skilled, in addition to the fear permeating his mind.

Georgy resorted to stabbing his knife spear at the air between him and the cultist in front of him.

Still, Georgy held firm as best he could. The cultist had yet to lunge at him and strike with the butcher’s cleaver he was wielding. Fortunately, one stab managed to connect with the madman's left shoulder—the blade slicing a piece of flesh as it sailed past the cultist.

Unfortunately, the cultist ignored the wound as he rushed forward with a savage grin, and a swipe from the cleaver sliced through the air

it cut across Georgy’s left cheek and down his chin.

Georgy screamed in agony and lost his footing. The poor Conscript tripped backward and collided with Xander’s rear before falling to the ground clutching his bloodied face.

Xander stumbled forward and—knocked out of focus—was punched in his nose by the cultist he was battling.

Bleeding through his nostrils, Xander wildly swung his hammer through the air forcing his opponent to step back.

Xander looked behind him and glanced at a pained Georgy on the sand. The cultist with the butcher’s cleaver approached menacingly and was about to jump on top of Georgy and brutalize him before Xander intervened.

“Stay away from him!”

Xander single-handedly held on to his battle hammer by the bottom of its handle. And using the extended range, he swung horizontally to his right. The heavy blow soared through the air like a battering ram and caved the cultist across the face.

The cultist comically spun from the force before falling to the ground.

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A second later, Xander’s previous opponent lunged at his energy shield and began dragging Xander toward him. Unfortunately, the man underestimated the weight of Xander’s 6-foot frame and only managed to nudge him briefly.

Xander scowled and brought his hammer down at the fool.

Anna was starting to tire from the constant backward steps and blocking before finally being reinforced by Xander, who shoulder bashed the crazed woman Anna was struggling against with his energy shield—the force of which knocked the cultist to the ground.

Anna frustratedly stepped in front of Xander as the madwoman began picking herself up and delivered the killing blow with a machete to the top of the woman’s head.

Anna let her bruised arm fall in a limp as she clutched the pained area with her free arm. She took a few seconds to recover her stamina before turning toward Xander and nodding appreciatively.

Xander took out his revolver and moved around the battle area while reloading his gun. Anna followed suit as she sheathed her bolo and slotted a new magazine.

On the other hand, Georgy barely saw Xander save him from death, his hand stemming his bleeding cheek.

He did, however, clearly see his attacker fall to the ground in a heap.

Georgy, enraged at his lack of courage, poor fighting skill, numerous blunders, and stress at everything that happened tonight—picked up the makeshift spear he dropped to the ground and began repeatedly stabbing the downed cultist.

“Damn you! Die, damn you! Argh!”

Xander and Anna saw their incensed friend and pulled him out of his mad attack on the already dead cultist.

“Georgy, Georgy!” Xander yelled as he shook the wild Conscript out of his enraged state, “focus now! We have to save our friends! Remember why we’re here!”

Xander shook his friend, who began to cool his emotions. Georgy was left exhausted physically and mentally and took a moment to speak.

“R-right. Wait, argh! My face,” The Conscript spoke past heavy breaths as he palmed his sliced cheek. “j-just go! I’m right behind you!”

Xander and Anna hesitated for a moment, torn between their friend’s grievous wound and their captured classmates. Georgy quickly dispelled those thoughts and yelled at them.

“Go!”

The two nodded in understanding as they bolted around the mayhem at the center.

On the right-wing of the fight, the other three Tier I’s were having a difficult time.

“Argh! You asshole!” Enzo shouted as he chopped at his opponent's forearm with the emergency fire axe taken from the resort. The prideful young man, his glasses lost to the sand and trampled afoot from being struck by a heavy left hook from the cultist he was battling.

Though now having the advantages of being inducted into the Omninexus, Enzo was never much of a fighter. And he was now feeling increasingly worried as his fight was slowly going against him, despite injuring the cultist with a poor shot to the man’s left and the gored forearm.

“You wanna taste my sword, mga yawa mo (you devils)!” Chico cursed as he swung his Conscript’s Straight Sword like a bat lacking any martial prowess. Having chosen the advanced alien blade simply because of the cool factor, the stout man now began to doubt whether he should have picked something else, “stay back!”

Chico proved to compensate for his lack of ability by matching his opponent's ferocity and going all on the offensive. Unfortunately, though because of that lack of ability, Chico received a nasty cut on the back of his hand after misjudging a vertical strike and getting a skin-deep slice in the thigh.

Ben thankfully fared better.

Though not as much a gun fanatic as the Stahls or Anna, he managed to empty his 9mm and landed most of his shots, downing one and injuring another.

He whipped out his paralysis pulser and fired, freezing the female cultist stumbling toward him.

Ben slowed down as he moved out of the way of the falling woman and bent down to pick up the screwdriver she dropped.

“I’ll take this, thank you.”

Ben finished the madwoman off with a kick to the head before heading to assist Enzo and Chico.

Here, Ben made known his prowess.

Though mandatorily trained as a reserve during college, he wasn't a soldier. He was, however, tall, but more importantly, he was an athlete and had better conditioning. Even better was that he was a basketball player, a sport many Filipinos know fondly from the most rural village to the country’s capital.

That meant that Ben’s footwork was phenomenal, even among his fellow players on the city’s basketball team.

Now enhanced by Fortitude, increasing the clarity of his mind to a point he never knew possible, the man practically danced around his opponents, stabbing and firing paralyzing pulses.

Enzo and Chico sighed in relief and amazement at how easily Ben dispatched their enemies.

“Urgh, I feel inadequate.”

“Damn, Anna’s brother is a beast!”

The three were undoubtedly tired, Ben less so, so after dispatching their enemies, they made their way around the right side and toward the hostages.

Enzo briefly glanced at the center where the non-users held the center and grimaced. Even without his glasses—though he noticed his vision was a bit clearer than before receiving his gene booster—he could see how quickly they were falling apart.

“They should have at least held off for a few more minutes,” Enzo scowled as he noticed two classmates swing their weapons with horrified expressions at a single cultist in an attempt to intimidate the lunatic.

Some were already on the ground, though the Conscript was unsure if they were simply injured or worse.

As regular humans, newly graduates of a course so far away from physical activity, the way they were handling their opponents was abysmal.

No fighting experience, coupled with the frenzied expressions and savage attacks of the cultists, planted terror in their minds and made for easy pickings.

Thankfully, not everyone was so hopelessly inept. Enzo glanced at a few of his classmates matching their opponents and nodded approvingly before following Chico and Ben.

After the initial bout, eight cultists—including Thrall and the two beside him—were what remained.

The Thrall frowned scornfully as he saw the approach of the Tier I’s from the side.

Sadistically, the thin man and his guards dragged one hostage each as human shields, much to the dismay of the Conscripts.

At least, that was what the cultists thought when blue pulses slammed at them and their hostages. But, then, the action became apparent as the stunning energy managed to arc and shock parts of their bodies into paralysis.

“Argh! Heathens!” The Thrall shouted as he struggled to hide behind his human shield, whose limp form was becoming more troublesome to keep upright with a single hand, “brothers! Sisters! To me, hurry!”

The Thrall’s raucous call alerted the remaining five—now four—after the center formation felled one.

These cultists hounded at the Tier I’s heels—two going after each side.

Xander and Anna quickly dispatched the two madmen attacking them from behind. Their bullets perforated their bodies before the cultists dropped dead on the ground.

Before the two moved any further, a bang resounded on the beach, and Anna fell to the ground in a pained shriek, clutching her right ear.

At least, where it used to be.

“Anna!” Xander yelled in a panic, his instincts went into overdrive as he stepped between Anna and the iron sights of the Thrall, who seemed to have dropped his hostage and used his fellow cultist to block the rain of blue pulses.

Xander blocked three bullets with his energy shield, the green glow changing hue to a warning yellow and into a dangerous orange as the impacts shattered the bullets into sparking metal shards.

“You fucker!” Xander shouted out in fury as he dashed toward the group with his shield raised.

The other trio was not idle, with Enzo and Chico choosing to duel the two cultists who attacked behind them and Ben, who continued to fire his pulser until it finally ran out of charge. Then, the athletic Conscript dropped the pulser to the ground and sprinted forward, juking left and right to confuse the Thrall’s aim.

The Thrall shouted in rage as two men began charging him and his two cultists, one of whom was now burning on the sandy ground with muscles frozen as Ben knocked the cultist into the bonfire with a paralysis pulse.

The mad leader fired his handgun between the two Conscripts, missing Ben a few times before grazing him in the shoulder, while finally shattering Xander’s energy shield, the emerald gem flaring in a bright glow, momentarily blinding everyone, including the user.

“Argh!”

However, the flash of light proved to be a valuable opportunity as Ben finally reached the cultists and attempted a tackle on the dazed Thrall, only to be tackled in turn by the remaining cultist. The two tussled on the ground and tried to overpower the other.

Xander, his sight returned but still similarly dazed, looked on and saw the Thrall recovering from the blindness.

Xander struggled to run forward. His muscles began to ache from the exertion. The Conscript held his battle hammer with two hands as he charged the Thrall, who cast a baleful glare at him with his serrated blade drawn.

“You fool! Your actions are meaningless! The end is here! You should be with us!”

The two began to duel in earnest while the raging bonfire illuminated them.

Xander blocked the blade that came swinging left and right with his hammer, barely managing to keep up with the thin man’s surprising speed.

The Thrall, in turn, had to dodge the heavy blows of Xander’s hammer as a single hit could kill if not cripple him.

While the duel went on, Enzo and Chico finally managed to fell their opponents and rushed to save their captured friends.

Anna, who held a cloth to her ear given by Georgy, who had now recovered, went to do the same.

The rest of the non-users who remained standing quickly moved forward or began assisting their wounded.

The Tier I’s approached the hostages, Anna bringing her machete down on the still paralyzed and burning cultist on the ground.

The young woman looked up with a grave expression as Xander, and her older brother moved closer to the water dueling their respective opponents.

The rescuers began to untie their kidnapped friends and scrunched their faces in regret as three had already bled out, and two were at death’s door. The rest were in various shock states as they tiredly removed themselves from their bounds, traumatized by the harrowing experience.

Anna and Chico did their best to stabilize the two, who were painfully clutching at their torn stomachs but only managed to rescue one, much to their dismay.

“DAMN IT!” Anna shouted in anguish as she held on to the cold body of her friend, Trisha. The blazing heat of the nearby fire did nothing to bring the corpse any warmth.

Anna closed her eyes tightly at what went wrong before she felt a hand on her shoulder.

Enzo called to her a few times before realizing her inability to hear on her right side. Anna looked up with teary eyes at Enzo in impatience.

“Something’s wrong,” Enzo spoke. His eyes seemed anxious as he glanced at the large glowing ritual circle they were on, “we saved six, stopped the ritual. But the markings are still pulsing, and the atmosphere feels thick.”

Anna looked down and also noticed the alien symbols. The script was seemingly undisturbed from all the commotion as if it wasn’t carved on the sand but projected.

The feeling of dread increased as Anna began to realize what was happening.

“Everyone! Out of the circle! NOW!” She screamed as she and Chico carried a grievously injured classmate.

The rest sprung into action as they moved out quickly.

Xander, Ben and their two opponents were still locked in combat by the ocean a few meters away from the ritual circle.

All four were out of breath and injured.

The Thrall took the lull in combat and scowled menacingly at the two Conscripts.

“Damn you all. Because of you, the ritual is incomplete. My master is displeased.”

Xander scoffed, spitting blood from his mouth and splattering the sand.

“Yeah, tough luck.”

Xander couldn’t think of any one-liner to say, exhausted as he was. So instead, he and Ben readied their weapons for their final round.

“Yes, tough luck. Still, as I said, your actions—” the Thrall spoke slowly and, much to the shock of the tired Conscripts, slashed his blade across his fellow cultist’s neck.

“—are meaningless.”

The thin man pulled a strange object from his back pocket, and before Xander and Ben could do anything, he plunged it into his heart, and in an instant—two things occured.

Anna, Enzo, Chico, and Georgy looked back. They witnessed the ritual circle being blasted apart as a pair of disgusting creatures came forth, chittering across the sand and onto the nearest frightened humans.

Simultaneously, the Thrall was bathed in a menacing red aura before exploding into a bloody mist.

Xander and Ben were thrown back from the force and landed on the sand.

As they came to, they gazed up in horror at a malformed amalgamation of limbs and teeth.

And beheld the Thrall’s master.

“WhA-a-aaAt Is thI-i-is pPitiful… f-FFforMm… DAmm-Maged… unNfi-i-inISHED!”