They moved past the 500-meter mark twenty minutes after entering. It wasn't fast. Ivara kept the pace deliberate, pausing at key corners and clearing areas with a sharp glance.
They could see cracked streets, buried lampposts, shattered concrete thick with moss and veins of glowing Force Crystals.
Monster carcasses littered the path. Feral Crawlers, mostly. Some split clean down the middle. Others were burned or frozen in half. Most had marks along their limbs where Force had been used with precision.
"This is crazy..." Cael muttered.
"Yeah. I can't stand the smell," Vanna added.
The deeper they walked, the worse it got. Rotting monster bodies lay tangled across cracked pavement and scorched soil—limbs twisted, torsos torn open, blood still clinging to claws and fangs.
Now that they were Tuners, they no longer received helmets or rebreathers. The wild and chaotic energy in the Force Field had minimal effects on their bodies.
The stench hit hard and fast, a metallic rot mixed with something far fouler, and for first-timers like them, it was too much.
Vanna gagged. Even Demitri looked like he was forcing himself not to retch. The smell, the blood, the sheer number of carcasses—it turned their nerves into lead.
Liara didn't fare any better.
The further they walked, the quieter it got.
Raith walked near the back of the squad. His eyes weren't on the carcasses or the cracked road. They were on the buildings.
He slowed.
"Why is it different..." he muttered.
The concrete structures that loomed ahead didn't belong to the Old Earth that he knew. Their shapes were off, with the angles too slanted, the materials too smooth, too seamless.
The materials for the road were different, too, such as glass that shimmered with layered colors. Streetlamps that had no bulbs.
And the signs were not in any language he recognized. Not English. Not anything.
The Old Earth had many tongues. But these?
These looked like something not from Earth.
Raith stepped closer to a half-toppled sign and brushed away a thin layer of dust. A swirl of carved characters stared back at him—spiraling, looping, like they belonged in a dream instead of a city.
He stared for a long second, brows knitting. Somehow, he felt the words familiar yet distant.
"Something wrong?" Ivara's voice cut clean through the quiet.
The rest of the squad turned.
Raith hesitated. "This place… doesn't look like the Old Earth. Not anymore."
"What are you talking about?" Vanna blinked. "These are ruins. From before the Shattering. Of course, it is weird."
Raith shook his head. "No. Not these."
He gestured to a nearby archway—clean lines, flawless geometry, no signs of wear. "That kind of structure didn't exist before. And the language on that sign? That's not from Old Earth."
"How are you so sure?" Demitri asked.
He appeared irritated by Raith's comments. He wanted a smooth mission and didn't want Raith to ruin it.
"I've read a lot of the pre-Shattering archive tomes. I've seen the scripts. None of them match this," Raith said.
Cael scoffed. "Maybe you just haven't read enough. Plenty of ancient languages are undocumented."
Both Vanna and Demitri nodded while Liria and Ivara waited for Raith's further explanation.
But Raith chose not to argue; he simply turned back to the sign. He knew what he had seen, and this knowledge was not something that younger generations paid attention to.
But before the weight of it could settle, a shrill hiss echoed through the street.
They all froze.
Ivara lifted her hand. Everyone dropped into a stance.
From the ruined building up ahead, they noticed a flicker. Then, they sensed movement.
"Are we running out of luck already?" Demitri asked.
"You're jinxing it, Raith, with all your questions," Vanna protested.
Raith said nothing as his gaze fixed on the shifting shape as it skittered into view.
A Feral Crawler.
Just like the one from before.
Raith's heart picked up, but not from fear.
He stepped forward instinctively. This time, there were no chains. No weakness in his steps. His body felt coiled and charged. He was ready.
A memory burned at the back of his mind.
"You're using less than one percent."
The golden-haired man's words echoed.
Raith's palms tightened.
The others tensed, ready to unleash their Forces. They moved into formation without hesitation.
Before they entered Shatterveil, Ivara briefed them on the ideal battle formation based on their Forces, strengths, and weaknesses.
"We've got this," he said. "Miss Ivara, don't help us. We can handle one of these."
Ivara didn't move. "Who said I'm helping?"
Everyone was stunned, including Cael, who was too confident a few seconds ago.
"What do you mean, Miss Ivara?" Vanna asked. She was pretty nervous after hearing that.
Ivara turned slightly, eyes narrowing.
"Raith. Stay out of this one."
Raith blinked. "What?"
"You heard me. Stay back."
"Wait. You mean just us?" Vanna asked, voice caught between nerves and bravado.
Demitri was nervous, too. "I don't think we can handle it yet."
They believed Raith was the main attacker in their squad. Without Raith, things would be more challenging.
The others did not protest; Cael appeared pleased, but not for Vanna and Demitri. Liria seemed unbothered.
"We'll show you what we've got," Cael said. "Hurry!"
He quickly approached the Crawler. Both Vanna and Demitri, despite their lack of confidence, had no other choice. Liara, too, found herself with no alternative.
Raith looked at Ivara and asked, "Why, Miss Ivara?"
"I want them to learn something," Ivara said.
Raith was confused.
Then, after a pause, she added, "And I have a different lesson for you."
Raith clenched his jaw and stepped back.
Without any warning, the Crawler lunged.
Vanna veered right, her palms glowing as she let out a crack of sound that bent the air, Pulse Whistle. It caught the creature off balance for a split second.
Demitri didn't hesitate. "Move it! I'm charging!"
He charged in from the side, arms already shifted to steel. His punches were heavy, deliberate, and even though the creature twisted away, he managed to land a blow against its lower limb, sending a small fracture up its leg.
Cael blurred forward with Break Step, leaving afterimages in his wake. He didn't have a weapon, and none of them did, but he didn't need one. He ducked low, then zipped behind the Crawler and kicked off the wall to draw its attention.
"Now, Liria!" he shouted.
From a raised ledge, Liria extended both arms. Water formed into thin, shimmering arcs before whipping forward in curved blades. They sliced across the Crawler's back, carving shallow gashes in its carapace.
"Look! We got this!" Cael shouted.
They were coordinated and efficient. Not perfect, but close.
Fighting a monster devoid of intelligence was much easier than their recent battle against Ivara.
They had been raised in families that valued early preparation. Whether it was combat drills, tactics, or conditioning, these skills had been instilled in them since they could walk.
However, using Force was still new to them. Most of them had only awakened their abilities a few months ago, and it was evident. Their movements were precise, but their use of Force didn't always align with their instincts.
Still, each hit landed with purpose. The Crawler reeled under the combined assault. Crystals chipped. Limbs stuttered. For a moment, it looked like Squad C-707 had the upper hand.
Cael grinned and shouted, "You see that, Raith?"
Raith didn't answer. He wasn't watching the Crawler. He was watching them, especially their rhythm, their movement, the gaps in their formation.
'
Not bad,' he thought.
But something tugged at him. Something colder, deeper.
The golden-haired man's voice echoed in his mind.
'Seventeen. And that's all you can do?'
Somehow, the face and voice of the golden-haired man kept on appearing in his mind. It was... disturbing.
Ivara sensed that something was affecting Raith's mind today, but she chose to observe for now. Raith glanced down at his hand.
The Mark on the back of his hand pulsed gently—gold and steady, humming with potential.
He could feel it.
Not just the Force. But his body itself. He was stronger and quicker. More than it was a week ago.
'I can do better than before.'
Maybe it was time to find out what more than one percent felt like.