The pressure hit without crossing the boundary, and that alone made it worse than any brute-force assault Arty had prepared for.
It didn't strike the entrance frame or the reinforced fencing, and it didn't test the ground line he had stabilised earlier.
It went through all of that and settled directly on him.
Arty's jaw tightened as the sensation pressed against his awareness, not physical enough to bruise and not distant enough to ignore.
It felt like being measured by something that had no eyes and no need for them.
"System," he said quietly, keeping his breathing steady as the force built in layers.
"Can it target linked users?"
The response came immediately, but certainty was absent in a way he had learned to distrust.
[Analysis: Partial]
[Anchor-linked presence may increase detectability]
[Hostile focus probability: Rising]
That was enough.
Being connected to the warehouse had made him stronger, faster, and more efficient.
It had also made him visible.
Arty remained just inside the threshold, refusing the instinct to step back deeper into the structure or rush outside to meet what he couldn't yet see.
Both reactions felt wrong.
The pressure increased again, narrowing with deliberate precision until it settled around his head and chest like invisible hands learning where to grip.
His pulse kicked once, hard and sharp, before he forced it back under control.
It wanted a reaction.
It wasn't getting one.
The sensor sweep trembled at the edge of his awareness, its earlier clarity disrupted by interference that felt less like static and more like something pushing back.
[Sensor Sweep Integrity Reduced]
[External Mapping Accuracy: Degraded]
"It can jam the scan," Arty muttered, more to confirm the problem than complain about it.
The distortion pulsed once in response, and the timing was close enough to feel intentional.
That was becoming a pattern he didn't like.
He crouched slightly and pressed his palm against the entrance frame, anchoring himself through metal and structure rather than standing exposed in open uncertainty.
The connection steadied him immediately.
The warehouse sharpened around him.
Beams.
Supports.
Load lines.
Stored weight.
Every linked element became clearer, and the pressure on his awareness lost some of its edge.
[Anchor Focus Enhanced]
Good.
That meant the bond worked both ways.
If it could reach through the connection, then so could he.
Arty closed his eyes for a single breath, not retreating inward but extending his sense outward through the perimeter instead of relying on the damaged sweep.
The distortion was still there.
Close.
Low to the ground.
Moving in small arcs that suggested caution rather than aggression.
It wasn't pacing.
It was repositioning for angle and effect.
When he opened his eyes again, his gaze fixed on a patch of darkness near the side fencing where moonlight failed to reach cleanly.
"There you are."
No visible body answered him, but the pressure shifted immediately toward that point.
Confirmation.
Arty didn't waste the moment.
He drove his focus into the reinforced fence post nearest the shadowed area, tightening the metal and snapping tension through the line like a whip.
The chain-link shrieked sideways.
Something hit it hard.
A shape burst partially into view, all lean movement and wrong geometry, then vanished backward before the eye could properly hold it.
Not invisible.
Fast.
And built to break recognition.
[Visual Contact: Incomplete]
[Threat Classification Updated: Skirmisher Type]
Skirmisher.
That fit too well.
The pressure struck him again before he could process more, sharper this time and aimed lower, folding into his centre mass like a concentrated shove.
Arty staggered one step backward into the warehouse, boots scraping concrete as the anchor absorbed part of the force.
Not physical.
But physical enough.
"Right," he said, breathing once through his nose.
"So we're done testing."
He moved immediately.
Not outward.
Sideways.
He crossed the interior line at speed, using shelves and support columns to alter his angle while keeping contact with the warehouse through every passing surface.
The pressure followed half a beat late.
Good.
That meant it had to reacquire him rather than hold a perfect lock.
He seized a loose steel bracket from a workbench with his focus and sent it skimming low across the floor toward the shadowed fence line.
The bracket hit nothing.
Then rebounded violently as something struck it mid-flight.
A second glimpse flashed into existence.
Long forelimbs.
Compressed torso.
Head too narrow.
Movement built around sudden bursts rather than sustained motion.
Then gone again.
[Threat Mobility: High]
[Direct Engagement Risk: Elevated]
Arty almost smiled.
"Useful warning."
The creature pulsed pressure again, but he was already moving, hand trailing along a support beam as he redirected force through the structure itself.
The rear corner channel he had shaped previously narrowed another fraction under his control.
The stacked materials compressed inward.
The approach lanes shrank.
If it wanted angles, he would give it fewer.
The distortion reacted instantly, circling wider beyond the boundary as if recognising the terrain change.
That confirmed another important truth.
It understood environment.
Not instinctively.
Actively.
"System," Arty said quietly, eyes tracking the moving pressure signature.
"What hurts skirmisher types?"
There was a short pause.
Then—
[Reliable Methods: Confinement, predictive interception, area denial]
No mention of brute force.
Makes sense.
You had to hit what stayed still.
Arty's gaze moved across the lot, then back through the warehouse entrance, measuring distances and choke points against the creature's pattern.
Fast approach.
Pressure strike.
Reposition.
Repeat.
It liked initiative.
So take that away.
He stepped backward three paces into the warehouse interior, deliberately opening the entrance line while keeping himself visible.
The pressure paused.
Then sharpened.
Interested.
"Come on," he said softly, voice calm and almost conversational.
"You wanted me."
The distortion surged.
This time it crossed the boundary.
The sensation was immediate, like cold wire dragged across his skin as the creature entered anchored space and committed to the attack.
Arty moved at the same instant.
His left hand slammed the reinforced entrance frame.
His focus snapped to every prepared point.
The frame tightened.
The side channel constricted.
The stacked rear materials shifted.
The floor mesh he had stored earlier reappeared in a violent spread across the concrete path.
The creature hit the trap mid-lunge.
Momentum tangled with mesh.
The narrowed channel stole escape angle.
The reinforced frame cut its turn radius short.
For the first time since it arrived—
It had nowhere clean to go.
A shriek tore through the lot, thin and metallic.
Arty stepped forward with the weighted pipe already in motion.
"Got you."
The strike came down toward the centre of the writhing shape as the system flared bright across his vision.
The moment the system flared, something shifted inside the connection, and Arty felt it before the text fully resolved.
The anchor tightened around him, not physically, but in the way his awareness aligned with the structure, sharpening every line of force and every point of contact within the warehouse.
The creature thrashed within the mesh, its movement no longer clean bursts but violent, constrained surges that snapped against the trap with unpredictable force.
Arty didn't hesitate.
The pipe came down hard, driven by precision rather than strength, targeting the centre mass where the movement compressed under resistance.
The impact landed.
Not clean enough.
The creature twisted, its body folding in ways that didn't follow natural limits, slipping partially free of the mesh as its limbs reoriented with disturbing efficiency.
Too fast, still adapting.
Arty's pipe came down even faster this time not allowing the creature time to get free, once, twice and before he knew a dozen or so times the creature was a bloody mess.
There it was the crystal
[Engagement Threshold Reached]
[Adaptive Function Unlocked]
[Adaptive Function Available]