Rise of the Ninth Pavilion

The deep purple sky stretched above the valley, its hue rich and otherworldly. They said it was darkest before dawn, but here the sky never truly turned black. It held color, depth, and quiet beauty—a reminder that even in the unknown, there was something worth seeing.

Bogi hadn't slept—not even for a second. Seated in a lotus position with steady breathing, he had spent the night replaying every second of the battle against the panther—its speed, its intelligence, the way its presence had infected the very air around them.

He had been getting mentally ready for what was coming, and strangely, he didn't feel tired.

The energy inside him—the same unseen force that had sharpened his instincts, slowed time in battle, and made his body move faster than it should—kept him awake and focused. He suspected he could go at least three days without sleep, something he had never been capable of before.

That alone was proof: something inside him had changed. No—it had already adjusted. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of approaching boots. Michael.

"Come on, Cap. It's almost time."

Bogi didn't need the reminder, but he accepted it without protest. With a steady exhale, he pushed himself up from the ground, dusting off his uniform.

He dressed swiftly, fastening his gear with precision; his movements were sharper than usual. Everything felt effortless—as if his body had already adapted to this new state, moving with an ease he had never known before.

As he stepped outside, he glanced up at the sky again. It was deep purple—the last stretch of night before the twin suns would rise. It was beautiful in a way that Earth never was. Without hesitation, he followed Michael toward the command tent.

As they approached, Oliver and Zeke arrived from the opposite direction, while Roki and Rashid emerged from the other side, their steps steady and faces unreadable.

The six of them met in the clearing, silent but ready. Bogi and Oliver locked eyes—a simple nod was enough; no words were needed.

Then, Bogi broke the silence. "We go light. Plasma blades, handguns, karambits, and knives. Two rifles—for Michael and you." He turned to Oliver. "What do you say?"

Oliver gave a sharp nod. "Agreed."

There was no hesitation. The last fight had already proven what they needed—gunfire wasn't for a full-scale assault. It was for shock, redirection, and striking weak points. Heavy weapons were unnecessary when speed and precision were their greatest strengths.

Bogi shifted his gaze. "Michael, get the gear." Michael nodded once and disappeared into the armory tent.

Inside the makeshift armory, Michael moved quickly, gathering the necessary weapons. The plasma blades were silent, lethal, and efficient. The handguns weren't for reckless shooting but for precise, targeted strikes. The karambits, small and brutal, were meant for close-quarters kills. He double-checked the rifles, ensuring they were clean, loaded, and secure—just enough ammo to finish a fight, not start a war.

Emerging from the tent, he handed out the weapons one by one. Bogi, Oliver, Roki, Rashid, and Zeke each received a plasma blade and a handgun. Michael kept his rifle, passing the second one to Oliver. The karambits were given to Roki, Rashid, and Zeke, while Bogi and Oliver kept the ones from before.

As each soldier secured their weapons, the routine fell into place. Roki tested the weight of his karambit, adjusting his grip. Rashid unsheathed his plasma blade, letting its hum settle in his ears. Oliver slung his rifle over his shoulder, double-checking the magazine. Zeke holstered his handgun, his fingers drumming against the grip. Bogi fastened his knife to his belt, his mind already ahead of the mission.

Everything felt right. Everything was ready. With a final glance at the sky, Bogi gave the signal. "Move out."

The six figures slipped into the jungle, moving swiftly, their steps instinctive, their focus locked on their objective. With fewer soldiers, they moved with greater efficiency, cutting through the dense terrain without unnecessary pauses. And yet, the deeper they went, the more they felt it. The air had changed.

Bogi and Oliver noticed it first. The others had spoken about the jungle feeling "freed" after the panther's death, but now, they truly understood what that meant. The weight that had once pressed upon this place was gone. It wasn't just a metaphor—it was something real, something tangible, something they could now sense.

But it wasn't just the absence of the panther's presence that made the jungle feel different. Something had awakened within them as well.

It wasn't just heightened awareness. It was perception beyond the eyes, a kind of sensory expansion that stretched beyond sight. They could feel the terrain ahead of them, not just by instinct but by something deeper—something unexplainable.

And then, the realization struck them both. This was how the panther had tracked them.

It had never needed to see them up close or follow physical trails. It had sensed them—just as they were sensing their surroundings now. If that creature had possessed this ability, then its defeat had only been possible because it hadn't understood the capabilities of their weapons. It had been a true predator, but it had still fought with instinct, not knowledge.

Oliver's voice was low as he spoke, breaking through the dense air between them. "We have an advantage because of our weapons. I get that now. The beasts here don't understand them." He exhaled sharply. "And as long as we stay at this 'level,' that advantage holds."

Bogi nodded. He had been thinking the same thing. Right now, they were stronger, not because they were the deadliest, but because they had something the creatures of this world didn't—technology.

They pressed forward, their steps swift but deliberate. The jungle was no longer just an obstacle—it was alive, shifting, watching. More creatures moved within the foliage, though none seemed predatory. Small, skittering animals darted between trees. A large, hoofed beast—perhaps another potential food source—paused briefly to observe them before vanishing into the undergrowth.

Bogi's thoughts flickered back to the wild pig Michael had brought back, recalling Viper's smug smirk as he tested whether the meat was safe. If it proved non-toxic, they could organize a hunting squad, securing a steady food supply without wasting rations.

Time passed quickly in their focused movement. Within two hours, they reached the edge of the location Roki had marked. And before they even arrived, Bogi and Oliver felt it. The pressure.

It wasn't just an oppressive weight—it was a presence, an awareness, something unseen but absolutely real. They hadn't even stepped inside its range yet, but they could sense the line—the invisible threshold. One step forward, and they would be inside its territory.

Bogi raised a hand, signaling the squad to halt.

He turned to Oliver, his expression unreadable. "You feel it?" he asked. "Yeah, I feel it. One step closer, and we'll alert it," Oliver said, his voice low but firm.

Bogi nodded, his tone matching the tension in the air. "We attack or retreat? We wanted to ambush it, but that's impossible now. That sensory ability—it's just like the panther's. So what's the plan?" Oliver didn't hesitate. His decision was instant. "We attack."

Bogi gave a sharp nod, and the rest of the squad heightened their focus. This was it.

Stepping into the creature's sensory range, they moved with caution, spreading apart just a few meters from one another—close enough for coordinated action but with enough space to avoid being caught in a single attack. Their movements were slow, precise, prepared for an assault at any moment.

The pressure in the air thickened as they neared the source of the presence. And then— A roar erupted, shaking the forest around them. The sound was deafening, vibrating through the trees like a shockwave. It wasn't just a threat—it was a declaration.

And then it stepped into view.

A giant bear, nearly six meters in height, its sheer size making even the panther seem small in comparison. Its dark, coarse fur was matted with dirt and scars, and its deep-set eyes locked onto Bogi and Oliver, sensing the two strongest warriors in its territory. The beast was trying to intimidate them.

But they didn't flinch. They weren't prey. They were on its level. Bogi could feel it—the bear's aura pulsed stronger than the panther's, just slightly, but not overwhelmingly so. They could win this fight.

"Now!"

BAM! BAM! BAM!

Three gunshots echoed in the jungle.

The first bullet tore straight into the bear's right eye, a splatter of dark blood exploding from the wound. The other two shots struck its thick skull, but the bullets failed to penetrate fully, lodging just beneath the bone.

The bear roared again—this time in rage, not intimidation. And then it charged. This was different from the panther. Bogi didn't freeze this time. His body reacted instantly, fueled by the same enhanced instincts that had awakened within him. He was fast enough now.

Unsheathing his plasma blade in one hand and gripping his karambit in the other, he dodged to the side, his plasma blade slicing deep into the bear's back right leg, tearing flesh in a clean, brutal cut.

Oliver, taking in everything happening in a split second, rolled to the side, planting his knee to the ground and firing a controlled burst of three more shots—this time aimed lower, straight into the bear's stomach.

The rounds hit their mark, punching into the beast's gut, tearing through muscle. But the bear didn't stop. It was in a rage state now, its pain overridden by pure primal instinct. It wasn't just attacking—it was fighting to survive. Blood poured from its wounds, yet it charged forward with terrifying speed.

Its eyes locked onto the closest human—Zeke. For a second, Zeke saw everything happening, but his reaction time wasn't there yet. The two captains and the bear had moved too fast, and he was still catching up. The bear turned toward him, massive and unstoppable.

Zeke rolled to the side, barely dodging in time, drawing his plasma blade in one fluid motion. As he moved, he fired two quick shots—

BAM! BAM!

The bullets missed the bear's head, striking its neck instead, causing more blood to spill. But it wasn't enough to stop the charge. The momentum was too great. Zeke's quick reaction saved his life, but the bear was still going.

The beast staggered, clearly wounded now, breathing heavily, blood pouring freely from its torn eye, its neck, and its stomach. Fear flickered in its movements. It was losing.

But it didn't notice Roki and Rashid.

The two scouts had climbed the trees the moment the fight began, positioning themselves above the battle. With perfect synchronization, they jumped from the branches, plasma blades igniting as they dropped onto the bear from above.

A sharp sizzle cut through the jungle as both blades pierced deep into the bear's skull. The beast jerked violently, its massive body staggering under the weight of the attack. Its muscles twitched, claws scraping against the dirt in a desperate final movement—And then—silence.

The giant bear collapsed, crashing into the ground, sending a tremor through the jungle floor. Another apex predator had fallen. The squad stood still for a moment, breathing heavily, their bodies still wired from the battle. Bogi exhaled slowly. They had won. Oliver wiped blood from his cheek, looking down at the massive corpse. 

As the dust settled and the massive bear lay still, Bogi approached the corpse. His boots pressed into the blood-soaked ground, but his mind was elsewhere—already analyzing, already looking for proof. He reached down, gripping one of the plasma blades still buried in the bear's skull, and used it to pry the head open.

There it was. A small crystal, embedded deep within the skull, shimmering faintly under the jungle's dim light. It looked slightly more polished than the panther's, but not by much. Bogi gestured for Oliver to come closer. The rest of the squad gathered around, their breath still heavy from the fight, eyes locked onto the crystal. They all saw it.

Bogi took it in his hand, and in an instant just as before—it dissolved, it crumbled into fine dust, scattering before anyone could react.

But they didn't need to see it anymore. They felt it. A surge of energy flooded through them, sharp and undeniable. It wasn't just a passing sensation—something inside them was shifting.

Bogi and Oliver focused inward, their minds drawn to the foundation of energy they had already formed within themselves. They saw it—a pillar of power, already standing tall from their first transformation. But now, something new was happening.

A second pillar was forming. It was growing, stabilizing—until it stopped halfway.

Not enough. Not yet.

But for Michael, Zeke, Roki, and Rashid, it was a completely different experience. They didn't have a pillar yet. They had never felt this before. The first transformation was happening to them now.

It wasn't just an upgrade. It was a fundamental change—the same as when it first happened to Bogi and Oliver. Their bodies adjusted in real time, their senses sharpening, their perception stretching beyond the limits of sight and sound.

And it wasn't only them. Far away, back at the camp, a pulse of energy rushed through the valley. Lazar and Ogar felt it first, clear as day. Pillars forming inside them, just as they had with Bogi and Oliver.

The rest of the soldiers weren't changed in the same way, but they felt it. A subtle shift. Their bodies lighter, their minds sharper. Their focus intensified. And in that moment, they knew. Their captains had succeeded.

But not everything could be so easy. Just as the squad adjusted to the energy, just as they processed what had happened, the jungle trembled again. Roars. Not one. Two. A deep, guttural bellow filled the air behind them.

Bogi was the first to react, his instincts snapping into place as he turned, his hand gripping his plasma blade. Two more bears emerged from behind the massive trees. "Shit," Oliver muttered under his breath, stepping forward with controlled aggression.

Bogi? He laughed. Not because it was funny. Not because it was hopeless. But because he had just realized how careless they had been. They had killed a bear. And they had assumed it was alone.

His mind worked instantly, breaking down the situation. One of them was different. The first bear, though massive, felt similar to the one they had just killed. Strong, but within reach. Zeke and Michael could take it.

But the second? It was stronger. They felt it. Its aura wasn't just powerful—it was above them. Oliver clenched his jaw. "Next-level." Bogi exhaled sharply, muscles coiling like a spring. No hesitation. No fear. This would be their true test.

Behind them, the squad was already moving. Roki and Rashid scaled the trees, their movements faster, more precise than before. Their plasma blades were off. They were waiting. Watching. They would only strike when the moment was perfect.

On the ground, Zeke and Michael adjusted their stances. Their hands gripped their weapons, their bodies already adapting to the new feeling of sensing aura. They weren't used to it yet, but they could feel the presence of their enemy, the shifting intent behind its movements.

And at the front, the captains took their positions.

They would kill them both.