The fog thickened, sound warped around them.

  “Kyo!” she called, voice tight with urgency. “I’ve got him. I’ve got Miles!”

  Small hands slammed into her jacket as Miles crashed back into her. Ava wrapped an arm around him and hauled him tight against her side.

  “It’s okay,” she breathed, though her heart was pounding hard enough to hurt. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

  The forest vanished and Ava’s world narrowed to weight and sound as the fog consumed them. Miles was pressed hard against her, his sobs slicing through the mist like a signal flare. Her arm locked around him, instinctive and unbreakable, pulling him close enough to feel his heart hammering against her ribs.

  Too loud.

  He’s too loud.

  The screech came again, closer now, vibrating through bone instead of air.

  Wings beat overhead.

  Slow.

  Heavy.

  Wet, leathery impacts that displaced air in thick pulses.

  Not birds.

  Bats.

  Massive ones.

  Ava tipped her head back slightly, tracking movement through the fog as shapes passed overhead. One swept low enough that its wingspan blotted out the stars, its shadow rolling across the ground like a living thing. She heard the snap of its jaws, felt the hollow click of teeth closing inches from her head.

  “They’re hunting by sound!” Ava shouted. “Stay quiet!”

  To her right, Ace pivoted slowly, weapon raised, eyes locked on the sky. Shapes emerged and vanished in the fog, each pass lower than the last.

  “Multiple targets,” Ace said, voice tight. “Big ones. Bigger than birds.”

  A shadow dropped out of the fog near Baxter. He reacted without thought, blade cutting a wide arc through the mist. The impact shuddered up his arm as it struck wing and bone. The creature shrieked, a deep, resonant sound that vibrated through the trees before vanishing upward.

  “They’re huge,” Baxter growled. “And they’re not afraid.”

  Kyo turned sharply, dread blooming in his chest.

  “Ava?” he called. “Miles?”

  Nothing.

  He took a step forward, then another, hand raised as if he could feel his way through the fog.

  “Ava, answer me,” he said, voice breaking its calm. “Talk to me.”

  The fog swallowed his words. Voices echoed back wrong, coming from places they shouldn’t.

  “I’m coming to you,” Kyo said, louder now. “I’m right here.”

  He moved, then stopped abruptly.

  Something was wrong.

  He should have reached them by now.

  Above them, Broderick’s head lifted. His optics shifted, internal systems whirring as thermal vision engaged.

  The world reassembled in heat.

  Targets flooded his visual field.

  Dozens.

  No.

  Hundreds.

  Large mass signatures. Wide wingspans. Dense musculature.

  Too many to enumerate.

  “Classification confirmed,” Broderick stated, voice flat and mechanical. “Chiropteran entities. Estimated wingspan exceeding three meters. Echolocation dominant.”

  Another wave passed overhead, heat signatures overlapping until the sky became a writhing mass.

  “Quantity exceeds safe engagement parameters,” he continued. “Auditory suppression recommended. Immediate regroup advised.”

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  The screeches multiplied in response, echoing through the fog until direction ceased to exist.

  Ava swallowed and leaned down, pressing her mouth close to Miles’ ear.

  “Buddy,” she whispered, forcing her voice steady. “You gotta stay quiet. I know it’s scary, but listen to me.”

  A bat swept low again, its wing brushing her hair, the air pressure enough to rock her slightly.

  “They can’t see well,” she whispered urgently. “They hear. They see with sound. If you stay perfectly quiet, they can’t find you.”

  Miles shook harder, sobs hitching and breaking despite himself. His fingers dug into her clothes like anchors.

  “I know,” she murmured, tightening her hold. “I know. I’ve got you.”

  She shifted, turning her body so she fully shielded him. Her free hand rose, trembling, gently covering his mouth.

  “Please,” she breathed. “Just for a second. Breathe with me.”

  It didn’t work.

  Miles’ cry tore free, sharp and terrified.

  The response was instant.

  Wings thundered overhead.

  Screeches deepened, multiplied, layered until the sound felt physical. Shapes dropped lower, circling tighter, their massive wings slicing through fog in violent arcs.

  Closer.

  Footsteps crunched somewhere ahead.

  Heavy.

  More than one.

  Ava’s pulse roared in her ears.

  Focus.

  Breathe.

  Shield first. Strike second.

  She pulled Miles tight against her chest, his face buried against her shoulder now, both arms wrapped around him. Her other hand flexed, ready, every muscle coiled despite the burn of exhaustion.

  She could fight.

  She could kill.

  But she could not let him scream again.

  The fog pressed in, thick and suffocating, swallowing voices, shapes, distance.

  The bats swooped lower, jaws snapping, teeth scraping bark as they missed by inches.

  And the footsteps kept coming.

  Closer.

  Kyo pushed forward blindly, heart hammering, breath coming too fast.

  “Ava!” he shouted again. “Miles!”

  Something solid slammed into his chest.

  Hard.

  Metal rang through the fog as Kyo stumbled back, barely catching himself before he went down. His pulse spiked as a massive shape loomed in front of him, heat bleeding through the mist.

  Broderick.

  The wyrm’s body coiled instinctively between Kyo and the sky, armored plates shifting with a low mechanical grind. His head lifted sharply as shadows dropped out of the fog.

  Too close.

  Broderick roared.

  It was not an animal sound.

  It was a weapon.

  A thunderous, metallic bellow tore from his chest, layered with distortion and resonance, vibrating through steel and bone alike. The sound ripped outward in a shockwave, slamming into the fog and shuddering through the trees.

  The bats screeched in response, some veering off mid dive, others slamming through the air as if enraged by the challenge.

  “Combat posture enforced,” Broderick intoned, voice grinding with static. “Kyo Izen. Physical condition compromised. Retreat advised.”

  Another massive shape plunged from above.

  Broderick snapped upward, jaws opening wide as he roared again, louder this time, the sound rolling like a battle cry. The diving bat recoiled at the last second, wings clipping branches as it barely avoided his snapping jaws.

  Kyo staggered back, breath shaking.

  “I’m not leaving them,” he said hoarsely.

  Broderick shifted, shielding him completely now, metal wings flaring wide as another wave of creatures descended.

  “Directive updated,” Broderick replied. “Protect assets. Engage hostile entities.”

  The fog erupted into violence.

  Miles wailed.

  The sound ripped through the night, raw and terrified, cutting through fog and fear alike. It was too loud. Too sharp.

  Every bat turned toward it.

  Ava snapped.

  Her exhaustion vanished beneath instinct.

  “NO!” she roared, yanking Miles tighter against her chest as she drew her short sword in one fluid motion.

  The first bat dropped low.

  She stepped into it, blade flashing as she drove upward with everything she had. Steel met flesh and bone. The creature shrieked as she ripped the sword free, black blood spraying across her arm as it crashed into the underbrush.

  Another followed immediately.

  Ava pivoted, boots sliding in damp leaves as she slashed sideways, severing wing from body. The bat slammed into a tree trunk with a wet crack.

  Miles screamed again, clutching her shoulder, his cries rising into full panic.

  “I’ve got you,” Ava shouted over the chaos, voice fierce and breaking. “I’ve got you!”

  She moved constantly now, turning, striking, putting herself between Miles and every shadow that dove too close. Her blade flashed again and again, cutting through fog and leathery wings as massive shapes crashed around her.

  Above them, Broderick launched forward, his roar tearing through the battlefield as he snapped at passing forms, metal claws raking through flesh. His presence carved space in the fog, forcing the swarm to scatter and regroup.

  Ace fired upward, shouting targets that barely made sense anymore.

  Baxter swung relentlessly, every impact punctuated by snarled curses and the sound of bodies hitting the ground.

  The forest had become a screaming, flailing nightmare.

  Wings thundered overhead.

  Metal roared.

  Steel sang.

  And through it all, Miles’ screams echoed unchecked, drawing the swarm tighter as Ava fought like something wild, blood slick on her hands, heart pounding with one single thought.

  Nothing gets to him.

  Miles’ scream broke into something worse.

  It hitched and cut off coming again in short, jagged bursts that didn’t pull enough air with them.

  Ava felt it instantly.

  His breathing became too shallow and too fast.

  Her blood ran cold.