Ancestral Lineage

BOOM!

A thunderous crash split the city as a massive figure was hurled from the sky, smashing into a towering skyscraper. Concrete and steel crumpled like paper, the building folding in on itself in a storm of debris.

The Veilwing screeched — a sound of rage and disbelief that rattled the barrier itself. Its enormous wings flared wide, scattering ash and dust as it rose from the wreckage. Crimson eyes burned with fury.

It had been certain. Certain it had vanished into perfect camouflage, unseen by any eye or machine. Yet the truth struck like a cruel revelation.

It had never disappeared.

Not once.

Instead, it had been caught — its very essence ensnared by something older, darker. Its supposed invisibility shredded like an illusion.

From the haze of collapsing rubble stepped a figure cloaked in spiraling smoke, his bare claws scraping the ruined stone. White hair that bled into crimson streaks drifted like spectral fire. His crystalline markings shimmered faintly, each one pulsing like the beat of a silent war drum.

Apole.

The Death Skull spirit beast stood tall, his red-ringed eyes gleaming with calm cruelty. His presence was suffocating, a predator who had already won before the prey even realized the game had begun.

The Veilwing thrashed, tail whipping through the wreckage in defiance, but the shadows themselves seemed to coil around its limbs, tightening like chains.

Trevor's voice, calm and cold, drifted from the skies above.

"Camouflage means nothing before death. You never vanished… you only stepped into our trap."

The Veilwing roared again, shaking the ruins of the city — but this time, there was fear in the sound.

The Veilwing's roar split the night, a wave of raw sound so powerful that the nearest buildings shattered as though struck by artillery fire. Windows exploded outward, glass raining across the cityscape like glittering daggers.

The beast launched itself upward in a sudden burst, its massive wings beating with hurricane force. With a single flap, hundreds of tons of dust and debris were hurled aside. Its scaled body shimmered, its colors shifting like oil on water. In the blink of an eye, the Veilwing's monstrous figure began to blur and fade.

Camouflage. True camouflage.

This time, its body bent light itself, warping the spectrum so thoroughly that even scanners across the barrier sputtered in confusion. To the naked eye, the beast was gone — only the sound of its leathery wings breaking the air gave hint to its position.

Apole tilted his head, crimson-ringed eyes scanning the horizon. His claws flexed, crystalline nails sparking against the ruined stone beneath his bare feet. Smoke coiled around him like a living shroud, tendrils writhing in anticipation.

The silence was broken by a sudden blur of motion.

WHOOSH!

The Veilwing reappeared mid-charge, a streak of color and muscle. Its jaws unhinged, fangs dripping with acidic saliva, and it snapped toward Apole's torso.

The impact came — but it wasn't Apole's flesh that split.

The Veilwing bit into smoke. The Death Skull's form dissolved, slipping apart into vapor that reformed a few feet away.

The beast's eyes narrowed, almost mocking in their intelligence. Then its throat bulged.

SCREEEEEECH!

A sound wave burst outward, a sphere of sonic destruction that warped the air and split the ground in spiderweb cracks. Entire rows of buildings collapsed, their foundations pulverized. The shockwave tore through Apole's form, scattering the smoke that composed his body.

For a moment, the Death Skull's shape flickered and fell apart.

The Veilwing seized the moment. Its long, whip-like tail lashed around, studded with crystalline spines that glowed faintly green. With impossible speed for its size, the tail slammed into Apole's chest.

CRACK!

The Death Skull's body was hurled across the battlefield, smashing into another skyscraper. Stone and steel crumbled under the impact, a column of dust rising like a volcanic plume.

The Veilwing roared triumphantly, its voice shaking the heavens.

But as the smoke cleared, the beast's victory soured.

From the rubble, a low, rasping laugh echoed.

Apole stepped out, his clothes torn but his body untouched, crystalline markings glowing brighter than before. His eyes burned crimson, and with each step, the shadows of the city seemed to ripple and bow.

"Not bad," he muttered, voice low and cold. "But you mistook me for prey."

He raised his hand.

The shadows at the Veilwing's feet writhed and snapped upward like spears. The beast shrieked as the darkness pierced its limbs, anchoring it to the ground. Its camouflage faltered, breaking in flickering waves.

Still, it fought back. The Veilwing's scales rippled and shifted, its entire body refracting light like a prism. Suddenly, dozens of false copies exploded outward — shimmering afterimages of the beast darting in every direction, each one roaring with uncanny realism.

Illusions. No, not illusions — perfect reflections. Copies so flawless they radiated the same aura as the original.

One clone dived, slashing its claws across Apole's chest. Another came from behind, fangs sinking into his shoulder. More surged forward, surrounding him in a blur of wings and teeth.

For a moment, the Death Skull was buried beneath a storm of strikes, his body shredded, pierced, torn apart. His smoke dissipated into fragments, scattering under the onslaught.

The Veilwing's original form pulled back, triumphant, wings stretched wide. Its crimson eyes glowed in victory.

And then the battlefield froze.

The shredded fragments of smoke stopped scattering. Instead, they hovered, suspended in the air like ash caught in still water. The clones froze mid-lunge, unable to move further. The entire illusionary swarm cracked like glass, shattering in a cascade of broken light.

And from the center of it all, Apole reformed. Whole. Untouched. His crystalline markings pulsed like a heartbeat, veins of red light spiderwebbing through them.

"I see… mimicry of reality itself," he said quietly, voice carrying an otherworldly resonance. "But you are still only a beast."

He vanished.

One heartbeat later, he was on the Veilwing's back. His claws drove deep into its scales, crystalline talons rending flesh like wet paper. The beast screamed, thrashing violently, its massive wings battering the air with storms of force. Buildings buckled under the gales.

Apole's eyes glowed brighter. His voice whispered, chilling and final:

"Bleed."

The Veilwing convulsed. Its veins bulged grotesquely as streams of blood were pulled from its body, spiraling upward into Apole's waiting hands. The crimson liquid twisted into jagged blades that hovered in the air like a crown of death.

The beast screeched, writhing, its body trying to camouflage again — but the blood, ripped free, betrayed its every movement. Its invisibility shattered as surely as its illusions.

The blades rained down.

SHLKT! SHLKT! SHLKT!

Dozens of crimson spears tore into the Veilwing's flesh, pinning it through wings, chest, and tail. The monster's roar turned into a strangled, desperate cry as its enormous frame buckled.

Still, it didn't fall. With a final, desperate act, the beast opened its mouth wide. Deep within its throat, a blinding glow built — a concentrated sonic burst, powerful enough to tear the entire district apart.

The city shook in anticipation.

Apole only tilted his head. "Pathetic."

He raised his hand, crystalline nails gleaming like razors. His palm closed into a fist.

The Veilwing's skull cracked.

The glow died in its throat, extinguished. Its scream was cut short as its body convulsed violently — then collapsed, wings twitching, blood spilling across the ruins.

The Death Skull stood atop its carcass, silent and merciless, as the last echoes of the beast's roar faded into nothing.

And then, just as quickly, he dissolved into smoke and vanished — leaving only the broken remains of the so-called EX-Class beast behind, proof that illusions of power meant nothing before true death.