My Infinite System.

The moment Lucian and Lucy crossed the surface of the gate, the world twisted.

For an instant, everything stretched—their bodies, their shadows, even their breath—like strings being pulled through glass. Then it snapped, and the two landed hard on jagged stone.

The air here was wrong. Heavy. It pressed down on their lungs like smoke. The sky overhead wasn’t a sky at all—it was cracked red, stitched with black lightning that crawled endlessly across it. Mountains of bone and broken obsidian jutted from the ground in twisted shapes, and from the fissures between them, came sound.

Growls. Screeches.

The ground trembled beneath their boots.

Lucian exhaled once, calm. His cloak settled against him as his eyes adjusted to the dark. ”This is it.”

Lucy’s hood had slipped, her silver hair burning faint with an inner glow. She tilted her chin up, eyes flashing with crimson fire as she felt the surge of killing intent spilling from the rift lines that snaked through the terrain. Her voice was cold, steady.

”They’re already coming.”

And then the first wave arrived.

The ground cracked wide as claws tore through from beneath. Dozens of twisted beasts—spines jutting from black hides, teeth like jagged shards—pulled themselves out of the dirt. Their eyes glowed faint yellow, slavering as they turned toward the siblings.

Lucian didn’t move at first. His gaze traced their forms, measuring speed, size, strength. Then his hand flexed once at his side, and he stepped forward.

”Stay close to the gate,” Lucy warned, flames beginning to lick up her arms. ”If they get past us, the others will have a harder time holding the rift steady.”

”Then let’s not let them past.”

The monsters lunged.

Lucian moved. His body blurred—Fold Step—vanishing and reappearing in the center of the pack. His blade flashed free from nothing, pure condensed space twisting into a cutting edge. He carved through three in one swing, their bodies folding apart before they even hit the ground.

Lucy lifted her hand, and the fire finally broke loose. Hellflames erupted in a line, black fire mixed with red core, washing over the left flank of beasts. Their roars became shrieks as the flames didn’t just burn flesh—they ate it, clinging like tar, devouring until bone cracked and fell.

But more kept coming.

From the cliffs above, winged horrors dropped, screeching with jagged jaws wide. From the fissures behind, larger beasts pulled themselves out, their hulks shaking the ground.

”Lucian!” Lucy’s voice rang sharp over the chaos.

He didn’t answer with words. He lifted his hand, the air around him freezing mid-flow as [Spatial Lock] snapped into place. The diving creatures twisted mid-air as if yanked by invisible strings, their wings locked stiff, their momentum crushed. He flicked his fingers—and they collapsed into the ground with bone-breaking force.

Lucy snapped her fingers. The flames along her arms coiled into a sphere above her palm, spinning tighter, hotter, until it shrieked like a living sun. She thrust it forward, and the orb exploded into a wave of hellfire that ripped across the field, melting through everything in its path.

The black-red fire painted the land, scorching monsters into ash.

But still they came.

The gate behind them pulsed, unstable, as though the attack itself was feeding more beasts through.

Lucian’s eyes narrowed. ”It’s the core.”

Lucy burned another line of beasts down before turning her head, sweat glistening faint on her brow from the sheer heat she was pulling. ”Where?”

He glanced at the flow of energy, his Chrono Sense sparking faint gold in his irises. Threads of time bent around the fissures, converging toward a jagged spire deeper into the land. He pointed. ”There. Beneath that spire.”

The problem was the horde in front of them.

Dozens more poured from the earth, claws raking stone as they pushed over the corpses of their fallen. The air thickened with blood and smoke.

Lucy drew in a slow breath. Then she pulled both arms wide. Flames ripped outward, gathering into chains of black fire that lashed around her like serpents. They writhed and snapped, her eyes glowing sharp.

”I’ll clear the path.”

Lucian smirked faintly. ”Try not to burn the core while you’re at it.”

She didn’t answer—she moved.

The hellflame serpents struck like whips, sweeping across the horde in wide arcs. Monsters screamed as they were cut in half, burned, shredded by flame that chewed deeper than flesh. Lucy strode forward through the carnage, fire twisting around her like a crown, her figure half-silhouette against the storm she was unleashing.

Lucian was right beside her. His blade flashed, one cut bending space itself, folding monsters into nothing. With each step, his Spacetime aura rippled heavier, slowing claws mid-swipe, twisting leaps into stillness before ending them in one strike.

The siblings moved as one.

Monster blood drenched the stone, steaming where it met Lucy’s fire. The ground shook with every collapse, every severed body hitting the dirt. The smell was thick, metallic and charred.

Still, the monsters fought.

One hulking beast—four arms, spines like jagged towers—charged at them, its roar tearing the air. It slammed a fist down with enough force to crack the ground like glass.

Lucian didn’t dodge. He caught the blow with one hand, space around his palm folding inward, nullifying the impact. His eyes sharpened. ”Too slow.”

He tore his arm upward, ripping the beast’s arm straight off in a burst of distorted air. Lucy followed instantly, her hellflames wrapping around the monster’s open chest cavity, igniting it from the inside out. It howled once, then collapsed, burning to bone.

Step by step, they carved forward.

The spire loomed closer, its base glowing with a faint, unstable light—the heart of the rift. The source of the flood.

But the closer they drew, the worse the resistance became.

Dozens turned to hundreds. The ground split wider, entire rivers of beasts pouring through. Their screeches echoed like thunder.

Lucy’s flames spread wider, but even hellfire had limits. Sweat ran down her temple now, and her breath came harsher.

Lucian noticed. He raised his hand, the threads of time tightening around his fingers. He whispered under his breath—[Chrono Break].

The world staggered. For the monsters, everything slowed. Their roars stretched into low growls, their movements dragging like they were wading through tar. For Lucian and Lucy, it was clarity.

”Move,” Lucian said.

Lucy nodded once. The siblings launched forward, tearing through the slowed horde. Space warped, fire devoured, their powers cutting a path no human squad could’ve managed.

At last, they broke through the wall of beasts and reached the base of the spire.

Up close, the core was visible—a pulsing crystal of fractured red-blue light, bound by chains of flesh and bone, feeding the endless wave.

Lucian’s eyes narrowed. ”That’s it.”

Lucy stepped closer, fire already gathering in her palms. ”We destroy it—this gate collapses.”

But before she could strike, the ground rumbled harder than before.

Something bigger was coming.

From the cracks behind the spire, a shape rose. First one claw, then another. The beast that pulled itself free was three times the size of the others, its body plated with black stone, its eyes molten red. Its roar split the air, shaking the entire wasteland.

Lucian’s blade hummed in his grip. Lucy’s flames snapped tighter around her body, coiling into a storm.

”Together?” she asked, firelight gleaming in her eyes.

Lucian’s lips curved faintly. ”Always.”

The monster lunged, and the siblings struck forward.