Nyxander stood still, a lone figure in the midst of chaos, as if the storm of panic swirled around him but could not touch him. His gaze remained fixed, watching the flood of people rushing past like a broken tide, their frantic movements vanishing into the horizon as the morning light slowly bled across the sky.

The rising daylight cast a pale golden sheen, trying to wash away the fear lingering in the air, but shadows of uncertainty still clung stubbornly.

People appeared seemingly from nowhere, rushing in random directions, their faces etched with dread. The confusion hung thick, and Nyxander, lacking a clear path forward, decided to head toward the business district, hoping to uncover something tied to this growing turmoil.

With measured strides, he walked the narrow walkway. The ground lay littered with discarded belongings, crates overturned, and shattered goods strewn like remnants of a broken dream.

His feet kicked aside debris or smashed fragile objects underfoot, each step echoing against the uneasy silence creeping in between distant screams.

Nyxander's sharp eyes swiveled from side to side, absorbing every detail when. "Zion!" The familiar voice pierced the morning air, cutting through his thoughts like a blade.

Nyxander turned toward his right, his gaze narrowing. There stood Beorn, gripping a sword, the first time Nyxander had seen him armed. The blade glinted coldly in the soft light, a sign that whatever lay ahead wasn't ordinary.

"What are you still standing for?" Beorn's tone held urgency, his chest rising and falling with exertion. "Let's rush down to support the Aqua Astro Station!"

Without hesitation, Nyxander's feet moved. Their heels pounded against the stone path, both men running in synchrony, purpose replacing uncertainty.

The crowd still surged, bodies rushing past them, brushing against their shoulders, some stumbling, others screaming, but Nyxander and Beorn didn't waver. They pushed forward, carving a path through the tide of fear.

Nyxander's curiosity gnawed at him like an itch he couldn't scratch. As they ran, he turned his head slightly. "May I ask," he began, his tone steady despite their pace, "what kind of creature is Flashstamp?"

Beorn glanced at him briefly. A faint smile tugged at his lips, but his gaze soon returned to the road ahead. "It's something you know, though perhaps not by that name."

His voice took on a tone tinged with mystery, as if revealing a story etched deep in the bones of the world itself.

"Its other name," he continued, "is the Primordial Beast." Nyxander's eyes narrowed, his mind sharpening with interest. "Primordial Beast?"

Beorn nodded. "Yes. "When the stations were first erected in the Primordial World, these creatures were found here. That's why they were named so."

The words rolled from Beorn's tongue like an ancient tale, each syllable heavy with history. "But as time went on," he said, "something stranger occurred." He paused briefly, allowing the weight of his next words to sink in.

"They earned the name Flashstamp because of how they appear, from nowhere. One moment, the void is empty. The next? They're simply there, as if the air itself spat them out."

Nyxander imagined the sight: a beast tearing through the veil of existence, leaving only shockwaves and fear in its wake.

"And when they land…" Beorn continued, his smile fading slightly. "The ground trembles. A thundering stamp so heavy it rattles bones. That's where the stamp comes from, Flash for their sudden appearance, Stamp for the earth-shaking impact."

The explanation hung in the air, heavy and unsettling. Nyxander felt a chill crawl along his spine as his body trying to recall a forgetting memory, though the air remained warm.

But as Beorn spoke, a memory flickered, unbidden and sharp. Captain Umbrazel's words flashed through him.

"For such a thing to be, the laws in that world would spurn its existence and force it to push out with much vigor. That is also why you might see those creatures in our world, and why those of us above the Ascendant Realm cannot enter."

The memory struck with the clarity of lightning. Nyxander's gaze darkened.

"So this is what he meant when he said the beast would be forced out…" he thought, the words whispering through his mind like a prophecy unfolding.

The two men continued striding, their pace unbroken. The sounds of chaos still rumbled ahead, but now Nyxander's mind buzzed with newfound understanding.

Nyxander was ripped from the depths of his thoughts by Beorn's voice, sharp and steady despite the pounding of their feet against the ground.

"Even though this place seemed perfect for our hidden shelter, it harbors a flaw, one we discovered too late," Beorn said, his breath ragged but his tone unwavering.

"In this world, there are twelve Primordial Tribes. Each tribe has a spot where these beasts appear. For the Void Clan, the one our station is closest to, the spot is where the this very station was built. And that," Beorn paused, taking a breath as they kept pace, "is exactly why we're facing this disaster right now. The strange part? We still don't know what void ability this beast holds."

The words hung in the air, heavy and ominous, like storm clouds gathering on the horizon.

Nyxander turned his head slightly, curiosity flickering in his silver eyes. "Wait, how can you be so sure it's going to have a void ability?" he asked, his voice rough from exertion, curiosity lacing every word. "These beasts can wield up to two powers, can't they?"

Beorn gave a breathless chuckle, as if the answer was as simple as breathing. "It's simple, really. If you remember what I said earlier, each tribe's spot corresponds to the abilities of the beasts that appear there."

"Right," Nyxander nodded, his mind racing. "So… you're saying they appear based on their dominant ability?"

Beorn glanced at him, offering a quick nod. "Exactly. While some of these beasts can wield multiple powers, there's always one ability that defines them, one that eclipses the rest. That dominant power determines where they show up."

Nyxander's expression shifted, understanding dawning in his eyes. "Oh, I see."

But Beorn mistook his thoughtful gaze for worry. "Don't concern yourself too much. This isn't our first time battling one of these creatures," he said, flashing a reassuring grin.

Nyxander simply nodded, his silver hair whipping in the wind, his expression calm yet unreadable.

As they continued forward, the surroundings morphed into a wasteland of ruin. The scattered debris and flood of terrified people they had passed earlier were now replaced by dilapidated houses, their frames gnawed by flames and time, and buildings reduced to broken bones of stone and wood.

The air hung thick with dust and smoke, swirling lazily as if reluctant to settle. Shouts echoed from beyond the wreckage, commands barked with urgency, and the familiar voice of Lumina, clear and commanding, cut through the haze.

Without wasting a moment, Nyxander and Beorn plunged into the thick smoke, the acrid scent of ash scratching at their throats.

And then, They emerged. The sight that greeted them was nothing short of awe-inspiring.

The Aqua Astro team stood firm, their weapons gleaming, their stance sharp and ready, with Lumina at the forefront, her presence radiating authority. But all eyes were fixed on what stood opposite them.

A Primordial Rhino. It towered at a staggering 23 feet, its sheer size dwarfing everything in its path. Its two crystal horns, glistening with an unnatural luster, rose in a perfect line atop its massive head. The horns seemed to catch the dim light, refracting it into a spectrum of cold brilliance, as if the creature bore fragments of a shattered star.

The ground trembled beneath its massive hooves, each step thudding with the weight of ancient power.

"RROOOOORRRR!" The roar tore through the air, raw and primal, sending a shockwave of wind surging forward.

The force lashed at the defenders, whipping dust into their faces and forcing them to shield their eyes, arms crossed against the howling gust. Hair blew wildly. Feet dug into the ground.

But among them, only Nyxander stood unmoved. The wind whipped through his white hair, streaming behind him like a silver banner. His eyes, cold, focused, unblinking, remained locked onto the towering beast.

While others flinched, he stood composed and calm, as if the storm itself respected his presence. The Primordial Rhino stomped, the ground splitting slightly beneath its weight, yet Nyxander did not waver. His gaze, sharp as a blade's edge, pierced through the dust and wind, silently studying the creature before him.

"This isn't our first time facing this. For the past years, we have stood against this," Lumina declared, her voice cutting through the air like a blade, firm,

commanding, and impossible to ignore.

"So, everyone, steel yourselves. Brace for the onslaught, and prepare to strike back with everything you have."

"Yes, ma'am," they echoed in unison, their voices a thunderous chorus of resolve, reverberating with unyielding determination.

And in that moment, with the beast's roar still echoing across the ruined district, the air thick with tension, as though the world itself held its breath, waiting for the next moment to shatter the silence.

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