Ezra moved to Dane next, pressing his hands against the bloodied side of his torso. Flames bloomed gently across the wound, warmth spreading through his fingertips as flesh stitched itself back together.
Dane hissed at first, his muscles tensing. Then, as the pain dulled, he exhaled, the tension melting from his frame.
By the time Ezra pulled his hands away, Dane's usual cocky grin was already back in place.
"Hey, Doc, can we keep him?" he said, flashing Ezra a lopsided smile. "I like him already."
Amara snorted. "He's not a toy, Dane," she shot back, rolling her eyes.
Before Ezra could respond, Amara reached into her pouch and pulled out a slim pair of glasses—the same style Eli had been wearing earlier. Sleek. Lightweight. Faint runes etched along the sides.
She handed them to him. "Put these on," she said. "You'll want to see what happens next."
Ezra hesitated before sliding them on. Instantly, the world sharpened.
The dust. The smoke. The shattered debris. All of it cleared as if someone had wiped fog from a window. The battlefield unfolded in perfect clarity. He could see everything—the flickering sparks of resonance in the air, the trails of black Aether leaking from the Rift, the way the very fabric of the battlefield seemed to bend around certain individuals.
And then—
Eli.
Moving at inhuman speed.
Ezra's breath caught.
Eli sprinted across the battlefield, the sheer force of his stride fracturing the earth beneath him. His every step sent shockwaves rippling through the dirt, cracks spiderwebbing outward.
And then—without hesitation—he launched himself into the air.
A blur of silver steel and windswept pink hair.
Both swords drawn.
The creature barely had time to react.
For a heartbeat, it looked like the strike would land.
Perfect. Precise. Fatal.
But the creature was faster.
The arm Eli had severed earlier regrew mid-motion—bones snapping back into place like jagged branches, sinew knitting over raw muscle in mere seconds.
It raised the newly reformed limb just in time.
Steel met bone with a deafening clang. Sparks erupted into the air as Eli's blade clashed against the regenerating limb. The force of impact alone sent shockwaves rippling through the battlefield.
Realizing the strike wouldn't land, Eli didn't hesitate. He adjusted.
He pushed off the creature's arm mid-air, flipping backward and propelling himself clear of its reach.
His landing was smooth, twin swords scraping against the dirt as he slid backward, carving deep lines into the ground.
Ezra stared, speechless.
'How… how is he so fast?'
But no one needed to answer. The difference was undeniable.
The gap between Eli and the rest of them wasn't just noticeable—
It was colossal.
Even the others—Dane, Irene, Rook—were watching in stunned silence, their expressions pale, unreadable.
Ezra saw it clearly through the lenses:
The widening of their eyes.
The barely whispered curses under their breaths.
They weren't just watching their captain fight.
They were watching something far beyond them.