The city never slept, but neither did she. Perched on the rooftop of a rusting fire escape, Ace surveyed the neon-lit streets below, her sharp eyes flicking between the moving figures in the alleyway. She was a phantom, a whisper in the dark, a legend to those who knew her by name—but only a few had ever gotten close enough to dare calling her that. Ace was small in stature, standing at barely four feet tall, but her presence was anything but diminutive. Draped in a sleek black outfit that moved with her like a second skin, she seemed to blend into the night itself. Her long, luxurious black hair cascaded behind her, an obsidian waterfall catching the faintest glimmer of city lights—electric pinks and blues shimmering faintly against the strands like captured stars. Her face, slightly Asian in feature, bore a sharp yet undeniably alluring quality—eyes dark and unreadable as the depths of a moonless sea, lips perpetually curled in a smirk that promised danger as much as it teased. She carried two katana swords, both sealed, resting in an 'X' across her back. Their sheaths were lacquered black, etched with faint silver runes that pulsed subtly, as if alive with a quiet, ancient power. To the untrained eye, she looked no more dangerous than an ornamental statue—a delicate figure carved from shadow. Those who knew her knew better. She was an expert swordsman, her blades an extension of her will, but her true power—her curse, as some might whisper in hushed tones—was something far more unnatural, something that defied the laws of the world she walked. When she willed it, her body became something not entirely of this reality. A semi-shadow, her form pulsating with a black aura that writhed like smoke caught in a storm, flickering at the edges as if she existed between the tangible and the void. In this state, her speed, strength, and reflexes tripled, her movements a blur of ethereal grace. She could weave through the air like a specter, her presence a shiver down the spine of anyone unfortunate enough to cross her path. Most importantly, she could sustain this form for as long as she wished—an ability unheard of even among the mystics and hunters who trafficked in the supernatural, a gift that marked her as both predator and enigma. Tonight, however, she was not on the hunt for the usual kind of trouble—the petty thieves or reckless gangs that skittered through the city's underbelly like roaches. She was looking for someone. A friend—perhaps the only one she had. The last time she'd heard from Mai, it was through a panicked phone call, the sound of screeching tires and heavy, ragged breathing crackling through the static. "Demons! They're trying to topple my car!" Mai's voice had been a jagged edge of terror, sharp enough to cut through Ace's usual calm. Then the line went dead, swallowed by silence. Ace had tracked her last known signal to this part of the city—a forgotten corner where neon flickered like dying embers, casting jagged pools of light across streets slick with rain. Shadows stretched too long here, curling around corners and pooling in doorways as if alive. This was a place where things that shouldn't exist thrived—where the veil between worlds wore thin, and the air tasted of rust and secrets. Her feet barely made a sound as she landed in the alleyway, the soles of her boots kissing the wet pavement with the lightest whisper. Her senses sharpened, tuned to every shift in the night—the distant wail of a siren, the drip of water from a broken gutter, the faint hum of electricity buzzing through the flickering signs overhead. The stench of rain-soaked garbage filled her nose, thick and sour, but beneath it lingered something else—something metallic, dark, and unmistakably alive. Blood. Ace narrowed her eyes, her pupils dilating as she followed the faint, smeared trail along the cracked pavement. It glistened under the stuttering glow of a streetlamp, a ribbon of crimson threading through the grime. The trail led her to an overturned car, its chassis crumpled like a discarded toy, its headlights flickering erratically, casting wild beams across the wet asphalt. It looked like a desperate, dying animal, gasping its last breaths in the gloom. No signs of a body. No signs of Mai. But there were signs of something else. Claw marks—deep, unnatural gouges running along the sides of the car, jagged and precise. The metal was peeled back in places, curling like paper under the force of something with fingers the size of daggers, something that had tried to rip the vehicle open like a tin can. The edges of the wounds glistened with a faint, oily sheen, as if the thing that left them oozed corruption. Ace exhaled, her breath a faint plume in the cold air, feeling her pulse slow as her mind sharpened into focus. Whatever had taken Mai wasn't human—not even close. She reached behind her, fingers brushing the handles of her twin swords. The seals on them thrummed beneath her touch, a low vibration that sang of imminent violence, eager to be unleashed. "Demons, huh?" she muttered, her voice a low murmur against the night. "Guess it's gonna be one of those nights." Then, the shadows around her began to ripple, a subtle distortion that made the air feel heavier, thicker. She knew she was no longer alone. A low, guttural growl echoed through the alleyway, reverberating against the damp, graffiti-streaked walls. It was a sound that clawed at the edges of sanity, primal and wrong. Ace didn't flinch. Instead, she let her instincts take over, shifting her weight slightly into a battle stance, her fingers tightening around the hilts of her swords until the leather creaked. A shape detached itself from the darkness—long-limbed and hunched, its skin an unnatural shade of obsidian that seemed to drink in the light, leaving only a void in its wake. Its eyes glowed an eerie, hungry yellow, twin lanterns floating in the abyss of its face, and its jagged claws flexed as if testing the air, each talon glinting with a sickly sheen. Its presence was a stain on the world, a wound that bled malice. Ace smirked, her lips curling with a dangerous edge. "Well, aren't you ugly?" The demon lunged with predatory speed, its claws slashing downward like falling scythes, tearing sparks from the pavement where they struck. Ace anticipated the attack, her body twisting sideways in a seamless pivot that carried her just out of reach. She countered instantly, unsheathing one katana in a swift arc that caught the creature across its flank. The blade's edge bit into its hide with a grating rasp, drawing a spray of viscous black fluid that arced through the air and sizzled on impact with the ground. The demon recoiled, snarling in fury, but Ace pressed the advantage, her movements economical and precise, circling it like a shadow dancer testing her partner's limits. The beast recovered quickly, leaping forward with renewed aggression, its yellow eyes blazing as it aimed a brutal overhead smash. Ace parried with her sword held high, the clash sending a resonant clang echoing off the walls, vibrations traveling up her arms. She felt the raw power behind the blow but channeled it, redirecting the force to throw the demon off-balance. In the opening, she delivered a series of rapid thrusts, her katana piercing its shoulder and thigh in quick succession, each strike eliciting a guttural yelp as dark essence leaked from the wounds, weakening its form. "You're tougher than you look," she admitted, her tone light but laced with steel. "Good. I was hoping for a challenge." She took a deep breath, the air tasting of ozone and blood, and let the darkness take her. Her body pulsed, shifting into her semi-shadow form. The black aura surrounding her flared like a living thing, tendrils of shadow curling outward, licking at the edges of the world. The air grew cold, the neon flickering as if intimidated by her presence, and the world slowed as her power surged, time itself bending to her will. The demon hesitated, its yellow eyes widening a fraction. It had expected prey—soft, fragile, breakable. Instead, it had found a hunter, a force of nature cloaked in shadow. Ace grinned, her teeth a flash of white against the dark. "Your move." The creature charged again, but Ace was already a step ahead, her enhanced speed turning her into a phantom blur. She darted low, slicing at its legs to hobble it, then vaulted over its back, landing with a spin that brought her second katana into play. The dual blades whirled in a defensive pattern, blocking a frantic swipe before she drove one deep into its chest. The demon shuddered, its body convulsing as it dissolved into wisps of acrid smoke, leaving only a lingering echo of its growl. More movement in the shadows. Ace's senses flared, a prickling at the base of her skull. The first was not alone. Two more creatures emerged from the darkness, their forms shifting unnaturally as if they were more nightmare than flesh. One snarled, its maw splitting wide to reveal rows of jagged, gleaming teeth that dripped with a viscous, tar-like saliva. The other brandished claws that glowed faintly, crackling with the same dark energy, arcs of shadow dancing between its fingers like miniature storms. Ace licked her lips, excitement flashing in her dark eyes, a wildfire igniting behind her smirk. "Now we're talking." The toothy one pounced first, its jaws snapping inches from her throat as she sidestepped with ethereal fluidity, her semi-shadow aura allowing her to phase slightly through the attack. She retaliated with a sweeping low cut from her katana, hamstringing the beast and sending it sprawling into a puddle of its own ichor. As it struggled to rise, the clawed demon flanked her, unleashing a barrage of energy-laced swipes that crackled like fireworks in the dim light. Ace weaved between them, her movements a hypnotic flow, countering with a precise disarm that severed one of its glowing talons, the appendage hissing as it fell. The injured demons coordinated now, one lunging high while the other swept low, their attacks a pincer designed to overwhelm. Ace leaped into the fray, her katanas crossing in an X-block to halt the high assault, then kicking off the toothy one's chest to gain distance. She landed nimbly on a fire escape ladder, using the height to dive back down with aerial strikes—her blades raining slashes that carved gashes into their hides, black mist billowing from each wound like escaping souls. The demons hesitated, their growls faltering as they sensed the shift. Ace was no ordinary opponent—no fragile human to be torn apart and discarded. They had made a grave mistake targeting her, and the realization hung heavy in the air. She smiled, the thrill of battle singing through her veins, a melody only she could hear. "You should have stayed in the dark." With that, she launched herself forward, a whirlwind of shadow and steel, ready to carve through the abyss itself. The air thickened with tension as the two remaining demons regrouped, their guttural snarls blending into a cacophony that rattled the alleyway—a sound like bones grinding against stone. Ace stood her ground, her semi-shadow form pulsating with an energy that made the very air tremble, distorting the neon reflections on the wet pavement into jagged fractures of light. The seals on her katanas glowed faintly, their intricate designs shimmering as if alive, drinking in the supernatural malice that saturated the night. The clawed demon moved first this time, its form blurring as it charged, a streak of shadow and fury. Ace met it directly, her katanas clashing against its energy-infused talons in a shower of dark sparks that lit the alley like fleeting stars. She twisted her wrists, locking the blades in a bind that forced the creature's arms wide, then headbutted it squarely in the face—a crunch of obsidian-like bone yielding to her force. As it reeled, she spun low, sweeping its legs out from under it and following with a downward plunge that bisected it cleanly, its halves evaporating in a haze of foul vapor. The last demon roared, its jagged teeth gleaming as it leapt from the side, aiming to catch her off guard. Its maw gaped wide, a cavern of dripping fangs that reeked of decay and despair. Ace anticipated the move, rolling forward into its path and thrusting upward as she rose, her katana impaling it through the underjaw and out the top of its skull. The creature hung there for a frozen instant, eyes dimming, before she wrenched the blade free with a flourish, letting its form collapse into a swirling cloud of ash that the rain quickly washed away. Ace retrieved her weapons, wiping the blades clean on a scrap of cloth she tore from the wreckage of Mai's car—a jagged strip of upholstery stained with oil and blood. She sheathed both katanas with a practiced motion, the seals dimming as they settled, and took a moment to catch her breath. Her semi-shadow form faded, the black aura retreating into her skin like ink sinking into parchment, leaving her solid once more. The alleyway grew still, the oppressive weight of the demons' presence lifting like a storm passing, the air tasting faintly of ozone and ash. But she wasn't done. Not yet. Mai was still out there, and these creatures—pathetic as they were—hadn't been the ones to take her. They were foot soldiers, grunts sent to slow her down or test her strength, their crude brutality a mere shadow of something greater. Something bigger was at play, something cunning enough to orchestrate an ambush and leave no trace of her friend beyond a wrecked car and a trail of blood. Ace's gaze drifted back to the overturned vehicle, its twisted frame glinting faintly under the stuttering headlights. She crouched beside it, running her fingers along the claw marks, feeling the cold metal beneath her touch. They weren't random; there was a pattern to them, a deliberate rhythm that spoke of intent—short, sharp slashes followed by deeper, dragging gouges, like a signature written in violence. She closed her eyes, letting her senses stretch beyond the physical, reaching into the faint echoes of energy that lingered in the air—fragments of fear, desperation, and a voice she knew all too well. "Mai," Ace whispered, her eyes snapping open, dark pools glinting with determination. The trail wasn't gone. It was faint, buried beneath layers of supernatural interference, a whisper beneath a scream, but it was there. She stood, her smirk returning as she adjusted the swords on her back, their weight a familiar comfort. Whatever had taken Mai had made one fatal error: it had left Ace alive to hunt it down. She followed the invisible thread of energy, her steps silent as she moved deeper into the labyrinth of alleys, the city's underbelly unfolding around her like a map of shadows. The pulse of the urban sprawl thrummed in the distance—distant sirens wailing like mourners, the hum of neon buzzing like a swarm of insects, the murmur of restless souls drifting through the night—but her focus was singular, a blade cutting through the noise. The trail grew stronger as she approached an abandoned warehouse, its silhouette looming against the bruise-purple sky. Its windows were shattered, jagged teeth in a gaping maw, and its walls were tagged with graffiti that glowed faintly in the dark—symbols and runes that pulsed with a sickly light, as if the building itself were alive and watching. The air here was wrong, heavy with a malice that pressed against her skin like damp cloth, thick with the scent of rust and something sweeter, fouler—decay masked by honeysuckle. Ace paused at the entrance, her hand resting on one of her katanas, the seal beneath her fingers flickering faintly. She could feel it now—something ancient, something powerful, waiting inside, its presence a weight that bent the world around it. A trap, most likely. She didn't care. With a quiet breath, she stepped through the threshold, the shadows swallowing her whole, the transition from alley to warehouse like stepping into a different plane. The air inside was colder, sharper, biting at her lungs with every inhale. The warehouse stretched before her, a cavern of rusted beams and broken machinery, its floor littered with debris—shattered glass that crunched underfoot, coils of wire that snaked across the concrete like veins, and puddles of stagnant water that reflected the occasional spill of moonlight filtering through the cracked roof. The air buzzed with static, a low hum that set her teeth on edge, vibrating in her bones like a warning. Ace moved cautiously, her senses attuned to every shift in the darkness—the creak of settling metal, the drip of water echoing in the vast space, the faint rustle of something moving just beyond sight. Then she saw it—a figure slumped against a pillar, bound in chains that shimmered with a sickly green light, their links pulsing with an unnatural rhythm. Mai. Her silver hair was matted with blood, strands clinging to her pale face like wet silk, and her breathing was shallow, each exhale a faint wheeze that barely stirred the air. Her jacket—once a vibrant red—was torn, stained with dirt and crimson, but she was alive, her chest rising and falling in defiance of the odds. Ace's relief was a fleeting spark, snuffed out by a deep, resonant laugh that echoed through the space, vibrating the very floor beneath her feet. The sound was a physical thing, rolling through the warehouse like a tidal wave, rattling the rusted beams and sending dust cascading from the ceiling. The shadows twisted, coalescing into a towering form—humanoid but wrong, its proportions stretched and distorted. Its limbs were too long, bending at angles that defied anatomy. Its skin—if it could be called that—was a shifting mass of darkness, rippling like oil on water. Its eyes burned with a crimson fire that pierced the gloom, twin infernos that seemed to see straight through her, and its mouth split into a grin that revealed teeth like shards of obsidian, jagged and glistening. "Welcome, little shadow," it rumbled, its voice like gravel dragged across stone, each word a bruise against the air. "I've been expecting you." Ace drew both katanas, their seals flaring with a brilliant silver light as she stepped forward, the blades humming in her grasp. Her smirk widened into a feral grin, her eyes glinting with a wild, untamed fire. "Good," she said, her voice steady, cutting through the oppressive weight of the creature's presence. "I'd hate to disappoint." The warehouse erupted into chaos as the entity lunged, its massive claws tearing through the air with a force that shattered the concrete where she'd stood a heartbeat before. Dust exploded outward, a choking cloud that glittered in the moonlight, and the sound of rending metal screeched through the space as its talons gouged the floor. Ace rolled aside, coming up in a crouch and unleashing a flurry of strikes that targeted the demon's joints—knees, elbows—aiming to cripple its mobility. Her katanas whined through the air, each swing precise, carving shallow but accumulating wounds that forced the entity to lumber awkwardly, its roars echoing like collapsing thunder. She shifted into her semi-shadow form mid-stride, the black aura enveloping her like a cloak of night, allowing her to slip through a grasping tendril of darkness it summoned from its body. Emerging behind it, she climbed its back with agile leaps, using her blades to anchor herself in its rippling flesh. The entity bucked wildly, slamming into walls to dislodge her, but Ace held firm, her strikes now focused on its neck—a relentless chipping away that drew fountains of ichor, the liquid burning the air with acrid fumes. It charged again, the floor cracking beneath its weight, and Ace leapt to meet it, her katanas spinning in her hands like extensions of her soul. She slashed at its chest, the blades biting deep, and twisted mid-air to avoid a counterstrike that shattered a nearby pillar into rubble. The air was thick with dust and the coppery tang of blood—hers or its, she couldn't tell—and the thrill of the fight surged through her, a wildfire that burned away doubt. The entity staggered, its form flickering as if struggling to hold itself together, but it laughed again, a sound that burrowed into her skull. "You cannot kill what was never born," it taunted, its crimson eyes blazing brighter. Ace landed in a crouch, her breath steady despite the chaos, her swords dripping with ichor. "Then I'll just have to cut you into pieces small enough to forget," she shot back, her voice a blade of its own. The fight had only just begun, and she intended to end it with blood—hers, its, or both. The warehouse became their battlefield, a clash of shadow and steel against an ancient darkness that refused to yield, and Ace reveled in every moment of it. Mai's life hung in the balance, and Ace would carve through hell itself to bring her back. The warehouse shuddered under the weight of their clash, a symphony of destruction echoing through its hollow shell. Ace danced through the chaos, her semi-shadow form a blur of black and silver, her katanas weaving a deadly tapestry of light against the entity's oppressive darkness. The air was thick with the acrid stench of sulfur and the metallic bite of blood, a miasma that clung to her lungs with every sharp breath. Dust swirled in violent eddies, kicked up by the entity's thunderous movements, glittering in the fractured moonlight like a storm of tiny, jagged stars. The towering figure loomed before her, its oil-slick skin rippling with every motion, its crimson eyes burning with a fury older than the city itself. Its claws—each as long as her forearm and sharp enough to rend steel—slashed through the air, leaving trails of shadow that lingered like afterimages of a nightmare. Ace anticipated the pattern, feinting left before darting right, her blades intercepting the assault in a cascade of clashes that rang out like tolling bells. She exploited an overextension, slicing deep into its forearm and severing a tendril that writhed on the ground like a dying serpent. She landed in a skid, her boots scraping the floor as she slid beneath another sweeping claw, the tips grazing her hair and sending a few obsidian strands fluttering to the ground. Her smirk never faltered, a defiant curve against the chaos. With a surge of her aura, she channeled energy into her katanas, the seals igniting brighter as she unleashed a spinning whirlwind attack—blades rotating around her like a vortex, shredding the entity's approaching limbs and forcing it back with a howl of frustration. The entity staggered, its massive form swaying as if the weight of its own malice threatened to topple it. But it didn't fall. Instead, it reared back, its chest heaving with a sound that was equal parts laughter and rage—a deep, resonant bellow that vibrated through Ace's ribs and set her teeth on edge. "Foolish child," it rumbled, its voice a landslide of gravel and venom. "You think your blades can unmake me? I am eternal—beyond flesh, beyond steel!" Ace pushed herself upright, her dark eyes glinting with a wild, unyielding fire. "Eternal's overrated," she shot back, her voice steady despite the tremor in the air. "Let's see how you like being forgotten instead." She launched herself forward, her semi-shadow form pulsing with renewed intensity. The black aura around her flared, tendrils of darkness snapping outward like whips, lashing at the entity's limbs as she closed the distance. Her katanas sang as she swung them in a relentless flurry—slash after slash, each strike precise, each cut deeper than the last. The blades carved through the entity's form, severing chunks of its shifting mass that fell to the ground with wet, heavy thuds, dissolving into wisps of black mist that curled upward like dying embers. The entity retaliated with a ferocity that matched her own, its claws slashing in wide, arcing swipes that tore through the warehouse walls, leaving gaping wounds of splintered metal and crumbling brick. Ace ducked and rolled, her movements a fluid dance of instinct and muscle memory, her senses honed to a razor's edge. She could feel the heat of its rage, taste the bitterness of its ancient hatred on the air, but she pressed on, undeterred. Every near miss fueled her, every glancing blow a spark to the wildfire raging in her veins. She vaulted onto a pile of twisted machinery, using it as a springboard to leap high above the entity, her silhouette framed briefly against the cracked roof and the sliver of moon beyond. Time seemed to slow as she hung in the air, her katanas raised, their seals glowing with an intensity that rivaled the entity's crimson gaze. Then she descended, a meteor of shadow and steel, plunging both blades into its chest—or the grotesque approximation of one. The impact drove the entity to its knees, the floor cracking beneath it in a spiderweb of fissures. A deafening scream tore from its maw, a sound so raw and primal it seemed to claw at the fabric of reality itself, distorting the air into shimmering waves. Ace twisted the blades, grinding them deeper, her smirk widening as she felt the resistance give way. Ichor sprayed in all directions, coating her face and arms in a slick, burning sheen, but she didn't flinch. She leaned in close, her voice a low, dangerous whisper over the entity's anguished cries. "Say hi to the void for me." With a final, wrenching twist, she yanked the katanas free, leaping back as the entity convulsed. Its form began to unravel, threads of darkness peeling away like burning paper, revealing glimpses of something beneath—something impossibly vast, a swirling abyss that pulsed with a hunger older than time. Its crimson eyes dimmed, flickering like candles in a storm, and then—with a sound like a thousand voices gasping at once—it collapsed inward, imploding into a singularity of shadow that sucked the air from the room before winking out entirely. The warehouse fell silent, the oppressive weight lifting as if the world exhaled. Dust settled slowly, a fine gray veil over the wreckage, and the moonlight streamed through the broken roof in soft, silver shafts, untouched by the chaos that had raged moments before. Ace stood amidst the debris, her chest heaving, her katanas dripping with the last traces of ichor. She flicked the blades clean with a sharp motion, the seals dimming as she sheathed them, their song fading into the stillness. She turned toward Mai, her friend still slumped against the pillar, the green-glowing chains now dull and lifeless, their power snuffed out with the entity's demise. Ace crouched beside her, brushing a strand of blood-matted silver hair from Mai's face. Her friend's eyes fluttered open, hazy with pain but alive, a faint spark of recognition flickering within them. "Ace…" Mai's voice was a hoarse whisper, barely audible over the drip of water echoing in the distance. "You… you came." "Always do," Ace replied, her smirk softening into something almost tender as she worked to free Mai from the chains. They fell away with a dull clatter, brittle and cold now that their master was gone. She helped Mai to her feet, steadying her as they moved toward the exit, the warehouse's shadows retreating like a receding tide. But as they stepped into the alleyway, something shifted—a ripple in the air, a whisper at the edge of Ace's senses. She froze, her hand snapping to one of her katanas, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the darkness. The fight wasn't over. Not yet. A figure emerged from the shadows, small and unassuming, cloaked in a tattered hood that obscured their face. Ace tensed, her grip tightening, but the figure raised a hand—pale, delicate, trembling—and spoke in a voice that was soft, almost childlike, yet carried a weight that made the night itself seem to lean in and listen. "You killed it," the stranger said, their tone a mix of awe and something darker, something unreadable. "You killed him." Ace tilted her head, her smirk returning, though her eyes remained wary. "Yeah, well, he was asking for it. Who are you?" The figure stepped closer, the hood falling back to reveal a young girl—no older than twelve—her face pale and gaunt, her eyes a startling shade of violet that glowed faintly in the dim light. Her hair was a tangled mess of white, streaked with dirt, and her hands clutched a small, cracked pendant that pulsed faintly with a light of its own. "I'm the one who summoned him," the girl said, her voice steady despite the tremor in her frame. "And now… I'm free." Ace's smirk faltered, her mind racing as the implications sank in. Before she could respond, the girl's pendant flared, a brilliant burst of light that swallowed the alley in a blinding wave. When it faded, the girl was gone, leaving only the echo of her words and a faint, lingering warmth in the air. Mai swayed against Ace, her breathing ragged. "What… what was that?" Ace stared at the spot where the girl had stood, her expression unreadable for once. "Trouble," she muttered, then slung Mai's arm over her shoulder, guiding her friend toward the neon-lit streets beyond. "Come on. Let's get you patched up. Something tells me this isn't over." The city pulsed around them, oblivious to the battle that had raged in its shadows, and Ace's smirk returned—sharper now, edged with a new kind of curiosity. A demon was dead, her friend was safe, but a new mystery had taken root, one that promised more nights of shadow and steel. And Ace, ever the hunter, was ready for the chase. The city's neon heartbeat pulsed beneath the blood-red moon, its crimson glow casting an eerie sheen over the rain-slick streets. Ace guided Mai through the alleyway, her friend's weight a steady pressure against her shoulder. The air still hummed with the aftermath of the warehouse battle—faint traces of sulfur and ash clung to her senses, a reminder of the entity she'd carved into oblivion. Her katanas rested heavily against her back, their seals quiet now, though she could still feel their subtle thrum, as if they, too, sensed the night wasn't finished with her. Mai's breathing was shallow but steadying; each exhaled a faint mist in the cold. "You're bleeding," she rasped, her voice rough from exhaustion, her silver hair glinting faintly under the flickering streetlights. Ace glanced down at her arm, where ichor and her own blood mingled in a dark smear across her sleeve. "It's mostly theirs," she said, smirk flickering like a candle in the wind. "Besides, I've had worse." Mai managed a weak laugh, then winced, clutching her side. "You're impossible." "Someone's gotta be," Ace replied, her eyes scanning the shadows ahead. The girl with violet eyes and white hair lingered in her mind—a fleeting enigma who'd vanished into the night, leaving more questions than answers behind. Summoned the entity? Freed by its death? Ace's instincts prickled a hunter's intuition that told her the threads of this mystery were far from unraveling. They reached a junction where the alley spilled into a broader street, lined with shuttered storefronts and buzzing signs advertising wares long abandoned to the night. Ace paused, easing Mai against a wall to catch her breath. The city's restless energy thrummed around them—distant horns, the clatter of a late-night train, the murmur of voices too far to discern. She was about to suggest finding a safe spot to patch Mai up when a new sound cut through the din: a sharp, deliberate click of boots on pavement. Ace's hand snapped to one of her katanas, her body tensing as she turned toward the source. A figure emerged from the shadows of a side street, moving with a casual stride that belied the weight of his presence. He was tall and lean, with a mop of unruly brown hair peeking from beneath a battered fedora. His trench coat—worn and stained with what might've been coffee or something less mundane—flapped slightly in the breeze. A glinting pendant hung around his neck, an ornate piece with a ruby centerpiece that pulsed faintly, catching the blood moon's light in a way that made Ace's skin crawl. He stopped a few paces away, hands in his pockets, and tilted his head to regard her with sharp, mischievous eyes. "Well, well," he said, his voice carrying a lilt of amusement. "You must be Ace. The shadow-slicing, demon-dicing legend herself. Gotta say, the stories don't do you justice." Ace narrowed her eyes, her grip on the katana tightening. "And you are?" "Name's Jack Bright," he said, flashing a grin equal parts charm and chaos. "Doctor Jack Bright, if we're being formal, though I'm not much for titles. Let's just say I'm someone who keeps an eye on the things that go bump in the night—and the people who bump back." Mai shifted behind her, peering at the stranger with wary curiosity. "You're not local," she murmured, her voice still weak. "What do you want?" Bright's grin widened, but his gaze stayed locked on Ace. "Oh, I'm not local to anywhere, really. I get around. As for what I want—well, I've been watching your little rooftop performance tonight, Ace. That warehouse dust-up? Impressive. Messy, sure, but effective. You've got a knack for handling the unhandleable." Ace's smirk returned, though it was edged with suspicion. "Flattery's nice, but it doesn't explain why you're here. You're not a cop, and you don't smell like a bounty hunter. So what's your game, Bright?" He chuckled, a sound that danced on the edge of unhinged. "No game, just an offer. I represent an outfit called the SCP Foundation. Ever heard of it?" Ace's brow furrowed. The name tugged at the fringes of her memory—whispers she'd caught in underworld dives, rumors of a shadowy group that collected the strange and dangerous like trophies. "Maybe," she said cautiously. "Depends on what you're selling." "Not selling," Bright corrected, raising a finger. "Recruiting. See, we're in the business of securing, containing, and protecting the world from things that don't play by its rules. Demons, anomalies, eldritch whatsits—you name it, we lock it up. And you, Ace, you've got a skill set that's caught our eye." Mai stiffened, her hand tightening on Ace's arm. "She's not some hired gun for your spooky club," she said, her tone sharp despite her condition. Bright waved a dismissive hand. "Relax, silver-hair. I'm not here to drag her off in chains. This is freelance work—short-term, no strings. You keep your freedom, Ace, and we get a problem solved. Win-win." Ace studied him, her dark eyes unreadable. The pendant at his throat pulsed again, a faint rhythm syncing oddly with her heartbeat. There was something off about him—something more than human, yet not quite like the demons she'd faced. "What's the catch?" she asked, her voice low. "There's always a catch," Bright admitted, his grin turning sly. "But first, the pitch. We've got a situation—a nasty little anomaly tearing up a quiet corner of the world. Think claws, teeth, and a bad attitude, but with a twist: it's tied to something bigger, something we haven't pinned down yet. Sound familiar?" Ace's thoughts flashed to the warehouse, the entity, and the girl who'd slipped away. "Maybe," she said again, her tone guarded. "What's in it for me?" "Besides the thrill of the hunt?" Bright shrugged. "Cash, intel, maybe a favor or two down the line. We've got resources—tech, knowledge, stuff you won't find in your average black market. Plus, I hear you're looking for someone—or something. We might be able to point you in the right direction." Mai shot Ace a warning glance, but Ace's curiosity was piqued. She straightened, her smirk sharpening. "Alright, Bright. I'll bite. What's this anomaly, and why me?" Bright's eyes gleamed with a mix of excitement and mischief. "Glad you asked. Let's take a walk—somewhere less... exposed. You'll want to hear this sitting down." They ended up in a dive bar a few blocks away, a crumbling relic of the city's underbelly. The neon flickered, and the air smelled of stale beer and desperation. Ace had patched Mai up with a medkit scavenged from the wreckage of her car, and now her friend sat in a corner booth, nursing a glass of water and watching Bright with a mix of distrust and exhaustion. Ace leaned against the table, arms crossed, her katanas within easy reach as Bright sprawled across from her, his trench coat pooling around him like a shadow. The bar was quiet, save for the low hum of a jukebox spitting out a scratchy tune and the occasional clink of glasses from the handful of patrons too drunk or too broken to care about the trio in the back. The blood moon hung outside, its light filtering through cracked windows in a crimson haze that painted the room in shades of violence. Bright pulled a battered tablet from his coat. Its screen was scratched but glowing with a faint blue light. He tapped it, pulling up a grainy image—a hulking figure caught mid-motion, its form blurred but unmistakably monstrous. Claws glinted, eyes glowed, and a trail of destruction stretched behind it: overturned cars, shattered buildings, a street torn apart like paper. "Meet SCP-," Bright said, his tone casual, though his eyes flicked to Ace with keen interest. "We're still working on a designation—paperwork's a bitch—but this thing's been rampaging through a small town a few hundred miles from here. Big, mean, and not too fond of staying dead. Sound like your kind of party?" Ace studied the image, her mind already mapping out the fight—angles, weak points, the rhythm of its movements. "Looks like a demon," she said. "Bigger than the ones I cut down tonight, but same vibe. What's the twist?" Bright's grin widened, and he swiped the screen to reveal a second image: a series of symbols carved into a wall, glowing faintly with the same sickly green light as the chains that had bound Mai. "That's the fun part. It's not just a mindless beast—it's tethered to something. A ritual, a summoning, maybe a pissed-off godling. We don't know yet, but it's leaving these behind wherever it goes. And here's the kicker: it's fast, slippery, and shrugs off anything short of a nuke. Our usual teams can't pin it down." Ace's gaze sharpened, her thoughts circling back to the warehouse, the girl's pendant, and the entity's collapse. "You think it's connected to what I fought tonight." "I think it's a hell of a coincidence if it's not," Bright said, leaning back. "And I don't believe in coincidences. That's why I'm here. You've got a nose for this stuff—plus, you're not afraid to get your hands dirty. We need someone who can track it, kill it, and figure out what's pulling its strings before it levels half the state." Mai coughed, drawing their attention. "And what happens after?" she asked, her voice stronger now but still laced with suspicion. "You lock Ace up in one of your cages too?" Bright laughed, a sharp, barking sound that made the bartender glance their way. "Nah, we're not that kind of outfit—well, not usually. Ace does the job, she walks away. No containment, no creepy experiments. Scout's honor." He held up three fingers in a mock salute, though the pendant at his throat pulsed again, a reminder of his own strangeness. Ace tapped a finger against her arm, weighing the offer. The thrill of the hunt called to her a siren song she could never resist, and the promise of answers—about the girl, the entity, maybe even Mai's attackers—was tempting. But Bright's easy charm didn't mask the danger lurking beneath, and she wasn't naive enough to trust him outright. "What's the real catch?" she pressed, her voice low and steady. "You're not telling me everything." Bright's grin faltered for a moment before he leaned forward, elbows on the table. "Fair enough. The catch is, this thing's not just a brute—it's smart. Calculating. It's been dodging our traps, picking off our scouts. And if it's tied to what you fought, it might know you're coming. You'll be walking into a fight where the enemy's got the home-field advantage—and maybe a grudge." Ace's smirk returned, slow and dangerous. "Good. I like a challenge." Bright clapped his hands together, the sound sharp in the quiet bar. "That's the spirit! So, you in?" She glanced at Mai, who reluctantly nodded—trusting Ace's judgment, if not Bright's. "I'm in," Ace said, her eyes locked with his. "But I work my way. No babysitters, no leashes. And if you've got intel on that girl—the one with the violet eyes—I want it." Bright's expression shifted, a genuine surprise flicking his face before he masked it with another grin. "Violet eyes, huh? Interesting. I'll see what I can dig up. Deal." He slid the tablet across the table, its screen now displaying a map with a blinking red dot—a small town nestled in a valley, far from the city's neon glow. "That's your target. We'll arrange transport, gear, whatever you need. Just don't take too long—this thing's not big on patience." Ace took the tablet, her fingers brushing its scratched surface as she memorized the location. "I move fast," she said, standing. "Let's hope your Foundation can keep up." Bright rose, too, tipping his fedora with a flourish. "Oh, we'll manage. Welcome to the freelance life, Ace. Try not to break too much—we're on a budget." The next night, under the same blood-red moon, Ace stood at the city's edge, a duffel bag slung over her shoulder and Mai patched up and resting in a safehouse she'd secured. Bright had delivered on the transport—a sleek black van that materialized in an alley with no driver, its engine purring like a predator waiting to pounce. Inside, she found gear tailored to her style: reinforced sheaths for her katanas, a set of throwing knives, and a comm device that crackled with Bright's voice as she climbed in. "Comfy?" he asked, his tone teasing. "Don't say I never did anything nice for you." "Shut up and tell me what I'm walking into," she shot back, settling into the passenger seat as the van rolled forward. "Straight to business—my kind of gal," Bright said, his voice tinny through the comms. "Town's called Harrow's End. Population's down to a few dozen after our friend showed up. Last report said it tore through a church—left those symbols you saw, plus a lot of bodies. No witnesses, just screams on the wind. Sound fun yet?" Ace's smirk deepened as she gazed out the window, the city's lights fading into the dark expanse of the highway. "It sounds like a party," she said. "Thought you'd say that," Bright replied. "Oh, and one more thing—watch your back. If that girl's tied to this, she might not be as gone as you think." The line went silent, leaving Ace alone with the hum of the engine and the weight of her swords. The blood moon loomed ahead, a silent witness to the hunt unfolding beneath it. She flexed her fingers, feeling the familiar pull of adrenaline, the call of the shadows she was born to chase. Freelance work for the SCP Foundation wasn't her usual gig. Still, something told her this was only the beginning—a thread in a tapestry of chaos she was destined to unravel, one blade at a time. The van sped into the night, carrying her toward Harrow's End, toward the unknown, and toward a fight that would test even her limits. And somewhere, in the dark, she swore she felt those violet eyes watching. The blood-red moon had faded into a bruised dawn when Ace and Mai returned to the city's fringes, the van's auto nav system gliding silently through streets still slick with last night's rain. Mai had slept fitfully in the safehouse—a cramped, concrete-walled bolthole Ace kept stashed for emergencies—her wounds bandaged but her spirit restless. Ace, meanwhile, hadn't slept at all. Her mind churned with the warehouse fight, the girl with violet eyes, and Bright's offer, each piece a shard of a puzzle she couldn't yet assemble. The comm device sat on the table beside her, its faint static hum a tether to the unknown she'd agreed to chase. Morning arrived with a gray pallor, the sky heavy with clouds that smothered the sun's weak rays. Ace stood at the safehouse window, her long, lush black hair cascading over her shoulders, catching the dim light in a glossy sheen. Her European features—sharp cheekbones, a straight nose, dark eyes that glinted like polished obsidian—were set in a mask of quiet focus as she watched the street below. The city stirred slowly, its neon veins dimming as the day crept in, but the shadows never truly left. They lingered in corners, in the hollows of buildings, waiting. Mai emerged from the back room, her silver hair pulled into a messy ponytail, her jacket patched with duct tape where demon claws had shredded it. She moved stiffly, favoring her left side, but her gaze was steady as she joined Ace at the window. "You didn't sleep," she said, not a question. "Had better things to do," Ace replied, her smirk faint but present. "Like figuring out what Bright's playing at." Mai snorted, crossing her arms. "You think he's trouble?" "He's trouble," Ace said, turning to face her. "But the kind I can handle. Question is, what's he dragging us into next?" The comm crackled to life before Mai could answer, Bright's voice spilling out with its usual mix of cheer and chaos. "Rise and shine, ladies! Hope you're rested, because I've got a field trip planned. Site-19, today, noon sharp. Got a new contract brewing, and I'd rather not explain it over this thing—too many ears, you know? Transport's on its way. Don't keep me waiting." The line cut off, leaving a silence that felt heavier than before. Mai raised an eyebrow. "Site-19?" "Sounds like their home turf," Ace said, grabbing her katanas from the table and strapping them across her back. The seals glowed faintly as her fingers brushed them, a quiet hum of readiness. "Guess we're going deeper down the rabbit hole." Mai sighed, but there was a flicker of curiosity in her eyes. "Fine. But if this goes sideways, I'm blaming you." "Wouldn't have it any other way," Ace shot back, her smirk widening as she tossed Mai a spare jacket. "Let's move." The transport arrived precisely at 11:30—a black SUV this time, its tinted windows reflecting the gray sky like mirrors. No driver, just the same eerie autonav system that guided it through the city's maze with surgical precision. Ace and Mai climbed in, the leather seats cold against their skin, and the vehicle hummed to life, peeling out toward an unknown destination. The dashboard screen flickered, displaying a cryptic message: Destination: Site-19. ETA: 47 minutes. Clearance: Provisional. The ride was silent except for the engine's low growl and the occasional ping of the navigation system. Ace watched the city give way to sprawling suburbs and desolate highways flanked by skeletal trees and abandoned gas stations. Mai fidgeted beside her, her fingers tracing the edge of her bandage. "You trust this guy?" she asked finally, her voice low. "Don't need to trust him," Ace said, her gaze fixed on the horizon. "Just need to know he's useful. So far, he's delivering." Mai huffed but didn't argue. The SUV veered off the highway onto a narrow, unmarked road wound through dense forest, the trees looming like sentinels under the overcast sky. The air grew heavier, charged with a strange static that prickled Ace's skin. She felt it in her bones—a presence, vast and unseen, watching. The road ended at a chain-link gate topped with razor wire, flanked by concrete guard towers that stood silent and empty. The gate slid open without a sound, and the SUV rolled into a sprawling complex that seemed to materialize from the mist. Site-19 was a fortress of brutalist architecture—gray slabs of concrete stacked into buildings that stretched across the landscape, their windows dark and unblinking. Towers rose at intervals, bristling with antennas and cameras, while floodlights cast harsh beams across the grounds, even in daylight. The air buzzed with a low, omnipresent hum, like the heartbeat of some colossal machine. The SUV stopped at a checkpoint, where a figure in a black uniform waved them through without a word. Ace's hand rested on her katana hilt, her instincts on edge, but she kept her smirk in place. "Cozy," she muttered. "Looks like a prison," Mai said, her voice tight. "Or a cage," Ace replied, stepping out as the doors unlocked. The air was cold and sharp with the scent of metal and ozone, and the ground vibrated faintly beneath her boots. She adjusted her swords, their weight a comfort. She followed Mai toward a towering entrance marked with a simple logo: a circle bisected by three arrows pointing inward. Bright waited just inside, his trench coat swapped for a lab coat that hung off his frame like a second skin. The ruby pendant still gleamed at his throat, pulsing faintly as he grinned at them. "Welcome to Site-19, ladies! Biggest little containment facility this side of nowhere. Don't mind the décor—function over form, you know?" Ace scanned the lobby—a cavernous space of polished concrete and steel, lit by harsh fluorescents that buzzed overhead. Guards in tactical gear stood at intervals, their faces obscured by visors. At the same time, researchers in white coats hurried past, clutching tablets and murmuring in clipped tones. The air felt thick, layered with an undercurrent of tension she couldn't quite place. "Nice place," she said dryly. "You live here?" "More like I haunt it," Bright quipped, motioning them to follow. "Come on, contract's waiting. Let's talk somewhere less... public." He led them through a maze of corridors, each identical—gray walls, numbered doors, the occasional warning sign in red: Authorized Personnel Only or Containment Breach Protocols in Effect. The hum grew louder, a constant drone that burrowed into Ace's skull, and she caught flashes of strangeness through open doors: a room filled with glowing jars, a corridor sealed with blast doors, a figure in a hazmat suit scribbling furiously at a whiteboard covered in incomprehensible symbols. Mai stayed close, her eyes darting to every corner. "What do you keep here?" she asked, hushed. "Everything," Bright said over his shoulder. "And nothing. Depends on the day." They reached a small office tucked at the end of a hall, its door marked Dr. J. Bright, Senior Researcher. Inside, the space was a chaotic contrast to the sterile corridors—piles of papers teetered on a desk, a corkboard bristled with pinned notes and photos, and a coffee mug sat precariously on a stack of files, its contents long cold. A single window overlooked the compound, the glass reinforced with steel mesh. Bright flopped into a chair behind the desk, gesturing to two seats opposite. "Sit, sit. Let's get to the good stuff." Ace remained standing, arms crossed, her katanas a silent threat at her back. Mai sat, her posture stiff and fixed Bright with a wary stare. "You said a new contract," Ace said, cutting to the chase. "What's the job?" Bright's grin widened, and he pulled a file from the chaos on his desk, its cover stamped CLASSIFIED in bold red. "Straight to business—love that about you. Alright, here's the pitch. SCP-—the big ugly from Harrow's End—is still out there, and it's pissed. You rattled its cage last night, but it's not done. We've got new intel: it's moving, fast, and it's leaving a trail of bodies and those green-glowy symbols you're so fond of." Ace's eyes narrowed, her mind flashing to the warehouse, the chains, the entity's collapse. "Thought you said it was contained." "Thought it was," Bright admitted, leaning back. "Turns out it's slipperier than we figured. Regenerative, adaptive, and—here's the fun part—tied to something we're calling SCP-1. A secondary anomaly, possibly sentient, possibly pulling the strings. Sound familiar?" Mai shifted, her gaze flicking to Ace. "The girl," she murmured. Bright's eyebrow arched, but he didn't press. "Maybe. We don't know yet. We know this: SCP- hit a Foundation outpost last night—small crew, remote location. Wiped it out. Left this." He slid a photo across the desk: a concrete wall etched with glowing symbols identical to those from Harrow's End, surrounded by bloodstains and twisted metal. Ace studied it, her smirk fading. "It's hunting you now." "Us," Bright corrected, pointing between them. "You're on its radar too, Ace. That warehouse stunt? It's not a coincidence. Whatever's driving this thing, it's got a grudge, and you're part of the picture." Mai tensed, her hands balling into fists. "So you're dragging her into your mess?" Bright held up a hand. "She's already in it, silver-hair. I'm just offering a way to fight back—with backup this time. Here's the contract: track SCP-, terminate it, and—if you can—find SCP-1. Bring it in alive, if possible. Dead works too, but alive's worth a bonus." Ace tilted her head, her dark eyes glinting. "What's the pay?" "Double last time," Bright said, his tone smooth. "Plus gear—custom stuff, your specs. And intel. You want that violet-eyed girl? We'll dig deeper. Got a team scouring archives as we speak." Mai leaned forward, her voice sharp. "And if it's a trap? You're not exactly screaming trustworthy." Bright laughed, a wild, jagged sound. "Fair! Look, I'm a bastard—I'll own that. But I'm a bastard who needs this thing dead, and Ace is the best shot I've got. No traps, no leashes. You do this your way, and we clean up the mess." Ace tapped a finger against her arm, weighing the offer. The thrill of the hunt sang in her blood, a familiar melody she couldn't ignore, and the promise of answers—about the girl, the symbols, the shadows tying it all together—was a hook she couldn't resist. But Site-19's sterile walls and Bright's chaotic grin screamed danger, and she wasn't blind to the risks. "What's the catch this time?" she asked, her voice low. Bright's grin softened, his eyes sharpening. "Catch is, this thing's not just smart—it's evolving. Last sighting, it was bigger, faster, sprouting new tricks. Tentacles, acid spit, the works. And SCP-1? Could be anywhere—watching, waiting. You'll be on its turf, and it's got a head start." Ace's smirk returned, slow and dangerous. "Sounds like my kind of odds." Bright clapped his hands, the sound echoing in the cramped office. "Knew I picked the right psycho! Alright, you're in. Let's get you geared up." He led them deeper into Site-19, past more corridors and sealed doors, the hum growing louder until it vibrated in Ace's chest. They reached a cavernous armory, its walls lined with weapons—guns, blades, devices that defied description—all gleaming under harsh lights. Technicians scurried about, their movements precise, their faces blank. Bright waved at a workbench where a woman in a lab coat waited, her hair pulled into a tight bun. "Ace, Mai, meet Dr. Kessler. She's your gear guru. Kessler, these are my freelancers. Hook 'em up." Kessler nodded, her expression neutral as she gestured to a set of items on the table. "For you," she said to Ace, her voice clipped. "Reinforced katana sheaths—carbon-fiber alloy, lightweight, unbreakable. Blades are yours, but we've added microfilament edges—cuts through damn near anything. And this." She held up a sleek black wrist device. "Tactical scanner—tracks heat, energy signatures, anomalies. The range is fifty meters." Ace took the sheaths, testing their weight—light as air, strong as steel. She swapped them out, her katanas sliding in with a satisfying click, and strapped the scanner to her wrist. It hummed to life, a faint blue hologram flickering above it. "Not bad," she said, her smirk approving. "For you," Kessler continued, turning to Mai. "Trauma kit—self-sealing bandages, stims, painkillers. And this." She handed over a compact pistol, its barrel etched with runes. "Disruptor rounds—non-lethal, scrambles energy fields. Good for anomalies, bad for humans." Mai took the gear, her reluctance fading as she hefted the pistol. "Guess I'm in too," she muttered, glancing at Ace. "Couldn't keep you out if I tried," Ace replied, her tone teasing. Bright watched, his grin unfaltering. "Beautiful. Now, the plan: SCP- was last spotted in a forest near the outpost—dense, dark, perfect ambush turf. We've got a chopper prepped to drop you in tonight. Get in, kill it, get out. Questions?" Ace tilted her head. "What's the backup?" "You're the backup," Bright said, his tone light but his eyes serious. "We'll have a containment team on standby, but they're slow—protocol bullshit. You're the tip of the spear." Mai frowned. "And if we find this SCP-1?" "Call it in," Bright said. "Scanner's got a comm link. We'll handle the rest." Ace nodded, her mind mapping the hunt—the forest, the shadows, the monster waiting within. "Let's do it." The day passed in a blur of prep—briefings, gear checks, a hasty meal of tasteless rations in a Site-19 canteen where the staff whispered about "Bright's new pets." By dusk, Ace and Mai stood on a helipad, the chopper's blades slicing the air with a rhythmic roar. The sky was a deep indigo, the blood moon rising again, its crimson light bathing the compound in an otherworldly glow. Bright saw them off, his lab coat flapping in the wind. "Don't die out there," he shouted over the noise. "I'd hate to lose my favorite contractors!" Ace smirked, climbing aboard. "Don't jinx it, Bright." The chopper lifted off, soaring over the forest as night swallowed the world below. Ace gazed out the open door, her hair whipping in the wind, her katanas gleaming faintly under the moon's bloody hue. Mai sat beside her, pistol in hand, her jaw set with determination. The pilot's voice cracked through their headsets. "Drop zone in five. No heat signatures yet—stay sharp." Ace activated her scanner, its hologram pulsing as it swept the darkness below. "Ready?" she asked Mai, her smirk a blade in the night. "Ready," Mai replied, her voice steady. The chopper descended, hovering above a clearing where the trees parted like a wound in the earth. Ace leaped first, her boots hitting the ground with a soft thud, her katanas drawn in a flash of steel. Mai followed, landing beside her, pistol raised. The forest was a cathedral of shadows—towering pines loomed overhead, their branches clawing at the sky. At the same time, the undergrowth rustled with unseen life. The air was thick with the scent of moss and decay, and the blood moon's light filtered through the canopy in jagged streaks, casting the world in shades of red and black. Ace's scanner beeped, and a faint blip appeared on the hologram. "Movement," she whispered, her eyes narrowing. "Fifty meters north." They moved silently, Ace leading with the grace of a predator, Mai shadowing her with cautious steps. The forest grew denser, the shadows deeper, until the scanner's beeps quickened, a staccato warning that set Ace's pulse racing. Then it came—a roar that split the night, a sound of rage and hunger that shook the trees. SCP- emerged from the darkness, a monstrosity of claws and teeth, its form swollen and grotesque under the moon's glow. Tentacles writhed from its back, dripping acid that hissed against the ground, and its eyes burned with a sickly yellow light. Ace's smirk widened, her katanas flashing as she charged. "Time to dance," she muttered, and the forest erupted into chaos. The creature lunged with earth-shaking force, its tentacles whipping forward like venomous vines, splattering corrosive droplets that scorched the bark of nearby trees. Ace dodged in a fluid sidestep, her semi-shadow form activating in a surge of dark energy that blurred her outline, allowing her to slip past the first assault unscathed. She countered with a rising slash from her left katana, the microfilament edge shearing through a tentacle with a wet snap, sending it twitching to the forest floor where it dissolved into steaming goo. Mai circled to the side, her disruptor pistol barking in controlled bursts, the energy rounds impacting the anomaly's hide with electric crackles that disrupted its regenerative flow, causing patches of its flesh to flicker and warp. The beast turned toward her with a guttural snarl, its jaws unhinging to reveal rows of serrated fangs, but Ace was already there, vaulting onto a low branch for leverage and descending with a spinning overhead strike. Her right katana plunged into its shoulder, eliciting a bellow that rustled the leaves overhead, while she used the momentum to twist away from a retaliatory claw swipe that gouged deep furrows into the earth. The forest transformed into a maelstrom of destruction—branches snapped like brittle bones, roots upheaved as the creature thrashed, and the air filled with the acrid tang of acid and ozone from Mai's shots. SCP- adapted mid-fight, its wounds knitting together with fibrous strands of dark matter, and it spat a glob of caustic slime that Ace deflected with a quick parry, the substance eating into the ground instead. She pressed the attack, her scanner highlighting a vulnerable pulsing node near its underbelly; she feinted high with one blade to draw its guard up, then dove low, slicing across its midsection in a horizontal arc that spilled viscous innards onto the mossy floor. "Bright wasn't kidding," Ace grunted, flipping back to avoid acid spray. "This thing's a bitch." Mai reloaded, her hands