Where was that stubborn girl?

Zaspa heaved a deep sigh as she strolled away from the training grounds, her steps heavy yet deliberate as she made her way toward her pupil’s quarters.

Lira. Stubborn as she was fiery.

The girl had shown up to every session, no matter how grueling or strict the training had been.

And Zaspa was strict. There was no leniency when it came to survival.

Yet today, for the first time, the girl was missing.

Had she been too hard on her?

She dismissed the thought as quickly as it arose.

Out of the question.

Survival mean't efford.

Zaspa knew this better than anyone.

Hadn't Dalvil reminded her of this fact that she had forgotten after a few confortable years in the village.

Comfort, as he’d so often said, was just another word for complacency.

And complacency mean't death when it came to the dark.

Zaspa pulled open the door to Lira's hut, her expression calm but her gaze sharp as it swept across the small room.

Empty.

The girl’s few possessions, childhood toys, simple trinkets that carried the memories of her father and grandmother, lay scattered about the ground.

They gave the room a nostalgic air, but Zaspa’s attention lingered on something else.

It was the two fist-sized dents in the ground that caught her eye.

She raised an eyebrow.

So, the girl had done some of the training she had recommended her.

A small surge of pride welled in Zaspa’s chest.

Maybe she’d shape this fiery little brat into a proper woman yet.

For most Shapeless, adulthood was defined by milestones: surviving 20 cycles or claiming a heart.

Lira had accomplished both, and by village standards, she was an adult.

But in Zaspa’s eyes? Hardly.

If you couldn’t wrestle a Tarkinbear into submission without going Halfshape, you were a baby.

If you couldn't survive in the wild for a week, living off nothing but nature, you were a child.

Only if you were strong enought to protect yourself and what was yours, you could truly be thought of as an adult.

Sadly, by that measure, the entire village was filled with toddlers.

Something resembling a smirk tugged at Zaspas's lips.

At least her husband counted as an adult. And the chief.

She took a not very annoyed sigh, turned around and left the hut to wander the village.

There was nothing urgency about finding Lira.

If the girl didn’t show up, they could just pick up where they left off tomorrow.

After all, survival was a marathon, not a sprint.

Zaspa had no need to chase after someone who wasn’t ready to meet her halfway.

And tomorrow she would make sure Lira never stood her up again.

ASh she strode along the trainings ground and saw Lira's younger brother she took a moment to ponder on him.

The boy was coming along well.

Under her husband’s tutelage, he might even grow into a real man someday.

A feat Zaspa had been skeptical about when she’d first taken a good look at him.

This was back when he had followed her daughter home after she had beaten him up for annoying her.

She snickered to herself, the faintest trace of pride tugging at the corners of her mouth.

It was clear Nyxy appreciated the boy’s presence, even if she did her best to appear as an enigma.

Zaspa didn’t need her Heart to see the way her daughter’s mind lit up when Kai was nearby.

Besides her parents she let no one talk to her as long, tolerated no ones existance for more then a few minutes before directing some harsh words towards them.

Zaspa chuckled quietly to herself.

Nyxy really was her daughter.

She had her father’s eyes and his quiet kindness, though the girl worked hard to bury the latter behind a front of bluntness, and her mother’s strength and blunt personality.

It was remarkable how things had turned out.

Her former self wouldn’t have believed her currentone if she could tell her where she was now.

Back then, she had taken a risk as she followed the strange man who always entertained her in search of the disease that had plagued her all her live.

She couldn't have named it then, but today she knew it was loneliness.

Her pace slowed as she passed through the heart of the village.

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The quiet bustle of the darkness surrounded her.

She heard voices murmuring about casual themes, the faint scrape of tools, and the occasional laugh carring on the cool air.

Zaspa took a moment to simply be.

To appreciate everything she had.

Then, a violent explosion tore through the night, painting the world in flickering orange light.

In an instant, the calmness Zaspa had felt for just a moment was gone and her insticts kicked in.

She bolted towards the source of the noise and light. No further thought needed.

If the village was attacked, she was the person to be there to kill whoever attempted it.

The blast had come from the foreigner’s hut.

Had one of his absurd experiments finally succeeded in killing him?

If not, Zaspa would make sure she finished the job herself for disturbing the village’s peace in such a reckless manner. Her peace.

Even with the speed granted by her Heart, navigating the village was slow and frustrating. She couldn’t risk bolting from one building to the next—one stray spark could set everything ablaze. Shooting through the crowded streets was just as dangerous; too many people stood in her way, and barreling into them wasn’t an option.

By the time she reached the scene, her worst fears were confirmed.

The man’s hut was gone, reduced to little more than a smoldering husk of charred wood and ash.

Flames leaked from the wreckage, spreading over the grass like a living thing, hungrily creeping toward the rest of the village. A fiery trail blazed into the forest, as if someone had flown overhead, setting the ground beneath them alight.

Zaspa didn’t need to guess who it was.

She focused, her sharp eyes locking onto the trail’s end. For a split second, she caught a flicker of electricity. She recognized the pattern immediately—it was Lira’s. The kind she gave off when her emotions burned hottest.

Her jaw clenched. She wanted to follow her, needed to—but she couldn’t.

Twelve strange drones emerged from the shadows of the forest, their unnatural forms glinting in the firelight. They moved with purpose, and several had already reached the village, piling lifeless, white-skinned bodies in their wake.

Zaspa’s stomach churned. As much as she hated it, she had to prioritize.

Lira wouldn’t die. She was reckless, young, and naïve, but she was also immortal. Zaspa had to trust that she could handle herself—for now.

Lightning danced along Zaspa’s fingers, snapping and leaping to the ground like a hungry predator.

Her lips twisted into a snarl as her focus shifted to the incoming drones.

“If you think you can take my village without a fight,” she growled, voice low and brimming with menace, “you’re in for a world of pain.”

Without hesitation, Zaspa charged headlong into the fray.

Shouting an animalic growl she came down on a drone that was dead set on hunting down women, a couple of it's prey already laying dead in it's wake.

A metal claw reached out to grab it's next victim, but was unable to reach it, before Zaspa turned it into one.

She flashed against it's neck, driving her full weight into it's neack, smashing it into the ground, which shattered upon impact.

The hunted woman glanced back to see the Heartbearer bring one lightning-filled-fist down onto the creatures chest, her face lighting up slightly in relieve.

The punch connected ramming Zaspa's opponent further into the ground.

Her other hand followed but the creatures feet connected with her shoulders, shoving her backwards.

The ground around them shattered into an explosion of dirt and dust, obscuring Zaspa's vision.

Unlike the drones she was used to this one lacked the intense gathering of energy in it's head but the woman still saw little lines of eletricity that spanned it's entire lower body.

It attempted to slide up under neath her, but Zaspa kneeled on it, her hads pressed on it's shoulder like they sometimes did Groll's, but for different reason.

Then she let it out.

Just a tincy tiny part of the storm that was surging throught her.

The flicker of a shadow.

But it was more then enought.

Afterwards Zaspa jumped out of the hole, forcing the strom back into herself.

A few bits of her opponent, the parts the were more sturdy then the rest, dripping off her elbows and forearms.

In quick sucession she slew two more of the wierd new drones, not even noticing their increased durability.

For her the difference was like punchig throught cardboard instead of paper.

She turned toward her next target but froze as she heard the heavy steps behind her. She didn’t need to look.

“Where is Lira?” Groll asked, his deep voice steady but urgent. “And Moran?”

Zaspa’s fingers twitched.

Lightning surged through them, crackling as she slammed a bolt into her next opponent.

The drone lit up like a bonfire, arcs of energy jumping to three more nearby, connecting them like a chain of light.

But none of them fell.

“Don’t know,” she growled, her focus locked on the drone in front of her.

Its claws shot toward her, and for a moment, she considered testing how much force it would take to melt the thing into nothing.

But this wasn’t the time for experiments.

If she took to long Groll might think of helping her again and she hated when he treated her as a helpless princess.

Her fist moved before she could second-guess, and with a sharp crack, the drone’s head ripped clean off, bouncing against the ground. She had added four long dents onto the blue face of the creature, improving it's looks greatly in her opinion.

To her suprise her hand actually ached. This blue stuff was hard.

“Go after them,” Groll said, his voice calm but commanding. “I’ve got this.”

He proved his point without hesitation, grabbing a drone by the head and crushing it into the size of a peach like it was made of soft clay.

Its limbs flailed briefly before falling limp.

Groll didn’t stop.

His club swung throught the air, cleaving three more drones right throught the middle.

Zaspa was gone in the blink of an eye, but not before giving him a short nod. Words weren't needed.

Groll knew his wife was fast and strong, perfect for tracing people down and fighting on enemy territory.

Zaspa knew her husband was fast and patient, a wall that would slaughter anyone trying to harm someone he protected.

While she flashed from tree to tree she cursed herself for not bringing her spear.

Right now she missed it.

It wasn’t just a weapon, it was a promise.

A constant reminder of the people she needed to come back to. Her husbands detached arm.

At least Nyxy was safe.

The girl rarely left the house during the village’s busiest hours, when the ebb and flow of its endless night reached its peak.

Suddenly, thought it was a good idea to leap in her way.

Its patchy skin and wiry hair marking it as an older model crafted from a Fourth-Dweller.

Zaspa didn’t even flinch.

She continued forward, her momentum obliterating the drone on impact.

It didn’t even leave debris, just a faint crackle of electricity in the air as it was erased from existence, it's form reduced to glowing fluid and ashes.

The burning trail Lira had left behind was faint now, its heat barely clinging to the air as Zaspa followed it deeper into the forest.

It ended abruptly at a massive clearing.

Everything within the clearing was gone. Trees, shrubs, even the grass, reduced to blackened stumps and smoldering ash.

The ground itself seemed to have been scorched into glassy patches, radiating an oppressive heat.

Zaspa let herself drop from the tree's and came to a halt right in front of it, where forest abruptly became ashes.

It was like a massive circle drawn into the woods.

Her eyes narrowed as she scanned the devastation.

There were no tracks leading anywhere, no sign of where Lira had gone.

Her fists clenched as the realization sank in, Lira’s path ended here.

No tracks.

No signs.

Nothing but Zaspa's own failure.

A weight settled on her chest, heavy and unfamiliar.

For a brief moment, it wasn’t lightning crackling in her veins but disappointment.

Disappointment directed at herself.

Her hands opened and closed slowly, trying to grab a spear she had left at her home.

Suddenly a metal barb shot from the underbrush behind her, aimed at her neck.

She shifted without thought, the projectile brushing past her ear and embedding itself in the scorched ground.

Her pulse quickened, and with it, the storm inside her took over again.

The bush exploded, revealing a drone as it lunged.

Zaspa’s hand twitched, and a lightning bolt struck faster than her eyes could track.

The drone flew backwards, slamming throught a massive tree.

Another charged from her flank. But she slew it.

More came. They didn’t matter. Just more bodies to add to the pile.

Zaspa was a storm.

Again and again the scene was illuminated by flashing light.

The scent of burnt flesh and molten metal settling onto the scene like a disgusting sheet.

A steady hum filled the scene, as energy shot back and forth, as ashes flew and bodies burst.

Then the forest fell silent once more.

Zaspa stood at the edge of the clearing, her chest heaving with shallow breaths.

They weren't the product of exertion, but of anger instead.

Her fingers curled tighter, her knuckles pale as her anger morphed into raw fury.

She stared into the darkness of the trees.

She wanted... she needed something to step forward.

Anything.

Anything she could obliterate.

Anything she could rip apart.

Lightning crackled at her fingertips, licking at the ground in anticipation.

But nothing came.

Finally back to her senses, Zaspa turned on her heal and flashed back to the village.

At least there she could be of use.