“Damn it.”

Mo Zeyu cursed under his breath as he hauled himself upright, shadows coiling beneath his boots to keep him from collapsing. The mission had dragged on far longer than planned. The monster was relentless—each strike heavier than the last—and unlike him, it showed no sign of slowing. His breathing hitched, irritation flaring as exhaustion crept into his limbs.

With a sharp gesture, he summoned shadowy strings, the darkness snapping into existence and yanking him upward. He swung, aiming to land a decisive blow—

Too late.

The creature struck first. His shadows lashed out on instinct, but the impact sent him skidding backward, boots scraping uselessly against concrete before the edge gave way beneath him.

The world dropped.

His eyes widened as the building vanished above him, wind tearing past his ears. He grit his teeth and thrust his hands forward, forcing his power to respond, shadows pooling at his palms—

Nothing.

“Bloody hell.”

The words tore from him, sharp and bitter, as gravity claimed him. His chest tightened. Was this it? His first real defeat—or worse, the end? The ground rushed closer, his mind scrambling for anything, any last move.

Then—

A sudden rush of air, violent and unfamiliar, cut through the fall.

His eyes snapped open just in time to catch sight of a figure cutting through the void beside him.

A person.