Lyla stepped forward, her boots scraping against the stone floor of the ruined chamber.

The air around her still crackled with the aftershocks of her battle, but the thing she had fought the thing that should not have existed was gone.

Not dead.

Not defeated.

Just… waiting.

She exhaled, rolling her shoulders, forcing herself to remain steady.

She had won this fight.

But she had not won the war.

The Marked Ones were still above, somewhere in the city ruins.

If they were still ...