"?????????'? ??????"

The man stood tall, his presence overwhelming the room. He wasn’t like the others. This man carried an air of brutal authority, his eyes cold and calculating, as if he had already decided how the end of this confrontation would play out. He didn’t smile, didn’t give any hint of hesitation. He was here for one purpose only—to capture Iris.

Iris’ heart pounded in her chest. This man wasn’t just another member of the squad; he was something more, something that screamed danger. She could feel it in the way he stood, how his very posture seemed to command the room. He wasn’t just an anomaly hunter—he was an anomaly, just like her.

But that wasn’t going to stop her.

"Step aside," the man said, his voice cold, void of any empathy. He glanced over at the scattered remains of his men, most of them still recovering from the chaos Iris had caused. "She’s mine."

Iris’ eyes flickered with a dangerous red glow as her power hummed beneath her skin. He wouldn’t take her. Not now. Not when Nathan was still fighting. The thought of what they would do to her if they succeeded—what they might try to make her do—sent a surge of fury through her veins.

Nathan, despite the injuries he had sustained, was still trying to push himself to his feet, still fighting to stay by her side. He wouldn’t give up. He never would.

"You’ll have to get through me first," Nathan growled, his voice hoarse but filled with resolve.

The figure didn’t flinch at the challenge. Instead, he stepped forward, his eyes narrowing as he sized up Nathan. "You’re an anomaly too. But I don’t need you alive to get what I want."

The moment he spoke, his men, those still conscious, began to rise. They were loyal, their hatred for anomalies burning bright. They wouldn’t hesitate to strike.

Iris’ heart beat faster as her gaze locked with Nathan’s. She could feel the pressure building, her power surging, threatening to burst from her as the room seemed to constrict. She couldn’t let this man hurt Nathan. She couldn’t let him take her away.

With a focused breath, she pushed her fear aside and brought her attention to the transformed lamp at her feet. Her eyes blazed with a red glow, and with a focused thought, she transformed it once again—this time, she turned it into a harmful object.

The figure in the doorway scowled, his expression darkening with each passing second. "You think that’s enough to stop me?" he sneered.

Iris didn’t wait for him to make his next move. She was already shifting her focus to the room itself, manipulating the furniture and the very walls around them. As the man made his way toward Nathan, she slammed the heavy wooden table into his path, its sharp edges pointing directly at him. It was heavy, hard, and it would be impossible to move without significant effort.

"You can try," Iris said, her voice trembling slightly, but filled with determination, "But you won’t succeed."

The man grinned, but it was a predatory, calculating expression. "I don’t need to succeed. I just need to wear you down. And that’s what I do best."

Iris’ power flared, the air growing thick with the potential for destruction. Her next move wasn’t going to be subtle.

She transformed the room itself into a fortress—walls of solid stone began to rise up, blocking the hunters’ line of sight, cutting off their ability to move. But even as she shifted the world around them, she knew this wouldn’t be enough. The men in front of her would keep coming, relentless in their pursuit.

They weren’t just after her—they were after Nathan too. And Iris couldn’t let that happen.

She could feel it—something inside her, some primal instinct, telling her that her power was evolving. She could feel more than just the room shifting. She could feel the world bending to her will, and it was exhilarating.

But she couldn’t let herself get carried away. Not now. Not when Nathan still needed her.