Agony ripped through him like molten iron as his body collided with the jagged reef. Every nerve in his spine erupted in protest, an orchestra of pain clawing from the base of his skull to the tips of his ribs. His muscles convulsed violently, twitching as the relentless forces of regeneration tore and stitched his vertebrae in a grotesque, unyielding cycle. The healing was anything but merciful, it was fire and ice, bone reshaping with excruciating precision, ligaments snapping and realigning, cartilage grinding into its rightful place with brutal efficiency.
William gasped, blood spilling from his mouth as he struggled to lift himself. Each movement sent searing pain through his body, each breath felt like inhaling shards of glass, every heartbeat a hammer pounding against the molten iron of his spine. Yet, beneath the torment, a raw, intoxicating thrill surged, a visceral reminder of his immortality, his regenerative gift that had saved him countless times, though never without a terrible price.
His fingers closed tightly around the shattered remains of Morganna, now reduced to splinters, as his fiery orange eyes blazed and locked onto Ruin. The figure stood unmoving in the water, absorbing each attack as if they were mere nuisances, ripples upon a surface of indifference.
With a sickening pop and stretch, his spine began to realign, vertebrae snapping into place, nerves sparking to life with agonizing clarity. Each movement sent fresh waves of pain coursing through him, but he refused to stop.
"Not yet…" he rasped, his voice a brittle whisper through gritted teeth. Not yet. He could not yield here. Not while Eve, Rain, and the Atlanteans still fought. Not while the world itself trembled beneath the apathy of Ruin.
He rolled onto his stomach, the metallic tang of blood mixing with saltwater on his tongue. His muscles screamed in protest as his hands clawed into the coral-strewn ocean floor. Pain bore down on him like an oppressive weight, but beneath it, a fragile strength began to awaken. The grueling, excruciating process of healing reminded him of his essence, of what it truly meant to endure. It reminded him that he was alive, still capable of standing against a being who had obliterated legends and shattered gods.
William forced himself to his knees, his spine contorting into a grotesque arc of torment that threatened to collapse him at any moment. Sweat mingled with salt streaked down his face, stinging his eyes, but he ignored it. Every fiber of his being demanded surrender, urging him to give in and let the tides claim him. Yet he ground his teeth, and deep within, a flicker of fury ignited, faint but unyielding. Suddenly, the agony surged, a relentless pulse radiating outward from the shattered core of his spine. Each vertebra felt as though it were being crushed, pulled apart, and twisted back into place by invisible, merciless hands. William screamed, a raw, guttural sound that vibrated through the water, blending with the creaking, snapping, grinding of his own bones. His arms trembled, his fingers digging into the reef, seeking leverage, anything to anchor himself as the rebuilding tortured him.
Ligaments tore and reknit, nerves flaring like lightning beneath his skin. Pain ripped through his ribs and shot down into his legs, a cascading shock that left him quivering. Every muscle spasmed uncontrollably, crying out for respite, yet the regeneration refused to stop. It demanded total submission, a sacrifice of every fiber of his body. He retched from the overwhelming intensity, bile and blood tainting the saltwater around him, but still, he endured.
Then came the fire in his core, an undeniable surge of life forcing its way through his shattered body. His vertebrae clicked and ground into place, each subtle, sickening realignment accompanied by bursts of radiant, almost tangible energy flaring along his spine. It felt as though molten metal was being poured along his nerves, searing yet fortifying, incinerating weakness, and forging his bones into something unbreakable, something unrelenting.
The pain became a rhythm, a cruel cadence he could follow, like the relentless hammering of a cosmic forge. His vision blurred, but through the haze, he sensed the meticulous precision of the healing process. Ligaments reformed with tensile strength that surpassed their original limits. Discs rehydrated and expanded, reclaiming their rightful positions between the vertebrae. Microfractures sealed with the hiss of searing energy. His spinal cord crackled and tingled with revitalized sensation, the nerve endings singing with unbearable clarity.
Every breath was a razor slicing through his chest. Every heartbeat was a drumbeat of molten agony. His body writhed, contorted into grotesque angles as bones and muscles submitted to the violent reconstruction. Yet amidst the torment, he felt power coiling within him, a storm of strength he had never known, a predator's pulse steady beneath the chaos, ready to strike.
At last, with a shudder that reverberated through his entire frame, the spine settled. The fire retreated, leaving behind a raw, aching warmth that coursed through his veins. Every muscle screamed in defiance, every nerve thrummed with renewed vitality, and every bone vibrated with latent power. The agony lingered like smoke in his blood, a haunting reminder of the ordeal, but it was done.
William lay panting, trembling, drenched in blood, saltwater, and sweat, but whole. More than whole, refined. Strengthened. Every inch of his once-battered frame was now aligned, fortified by the violent crucible of destruction and regeneration.
His hands, still clutching the jagged remnants of Morganna's hilt, no longer trembled uncontrollably. His head rose, eyes blazing with fierce determination. He felt it coursing through his spine, his muscles, the very core of his existence: the indomitable will, the sharp edge of a predator, the stillness at the heart of the storm.
He stood. Every motion was precise, intentional, testing the renewed strength in his back, the unity of his limbs, the fire that pulsed unyielding in his veins. As he straightened fully, as the lingering shards of searing torment dulled to a steady ache, he knew, he could move. He could fight.
The ocean churned violently around him, the cacophony of battle echoing in his ears. Eve's constructs flickered wildly, her pink energy lashes snapping out in frantic defiance, yet Ruin remained immovable, his golden eyes cold and unrelenting. Rain's colossal water form had been torn apart and reassembled countless times, but even he faltered under the crushing weight of Ruin's overwhelming power. The Atlanteans fought valiantly, but their weapons seemed to dissolve into nothingness against the obsidian-scaled might of the draconic human.
William's fists tightened, his knuckles pale, every fiber of his being aflame in the wake of regeneration. The pain lingered, not as a weakness but as a refining fire, shaping him into something stronger. With a surge of determination, he propelled himself forward, slicing through the turbulent water with a speed and precision that made even the chaotic currents seem sluggish by comparison.
"Eve! Rain! Hold on!" he roared, his voice cutting through the storm of energy and water like a beacon of hope. There was a tangible strength in his words, a rallying cry that pierced the despair.
Ruin's golden gaze shifted toward him, the faint narrowing of his eyes betraying a flicker of interest. "Ah… the child still lives," he rumbled, his voice deep and resonant, steeped in icy amusement. "I wondered if you would return."
William paid no heed to the taunt. Every motion he made was a declaration of survival, an unyielding testament to the torment he had endured and surpassed. He weaved through the crumbling remains of Eve's constructs, dodging shattered spires and stray shards of energy that streaked through the water like meteors.
Rain roared, reshaping itself into a torrent of blade-like water to strike once more, but Ruin's hand darted forward, tearing it apart as effortlessly as one swats a fly. Eve's constructs faltered under the immense pressure, crumbling and reforming in chaotic bursts, her energy draining with every passing moment.
William's body tensed, muscles and spine moving in flawless synchronization. He surged forward, a streak of fiery orange and gold cutting through the abyssal depths, and attacked. Not with Morganna, its shattered remains lay useless, but with his own raw, focused energy, channeled through fists and feet, each strike a perfect blend of power and precision, forged through relentless hardship.
The first blow thundered against Ruin's flank, sending ripples through the water like a shockwave. Golden eyes widened ever so slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing the draconic-human's face for the first time. William pressed on without hesitation, unleashing a relentless barrage of blows: fists, elbows, knees, and spinning kicks, each strike flowing seamlessly into the next with unstoppable momentum.
Ruin faltered, just barely, but it was all the opportunity they needed. Eve and Rain moved as one. Pink constructs flared, sharper and more precise than ever, while Rain coiled into a crushing vortex that locked Ruin's legs in place. The Atlanteans surged forward with renewed ferocity, their spears and tridents striking at angles no longer limited by the absence of William's commanding influence.
Pain had forged William, agony had tempered him, and now, fully restored, he was something beyond human. He was a predator, an avenger, and a guardian all at once. Each strike he delivered was charged with the memory of shattered bones and raw torment, every blow a defiant proclamation against Ruin's cold indifference, a resistance born of anguish and perfected through unyielding survival.
Ruin's lips curved into a faint, intrigued smile. "Impressive," he murmured, his voice grinding like steel dragged across stone.
William locked eyes with that gaze, a tempest of fury and determination blazing within him, and the ocean trembled under the clash of these monumental powers.
Ruin's golden eyes gleamed with cold calculation as William charged forward, energy blazing around his fists like molten sunlight. Each blow crashed against the draconic-human's body, yet Ruin absorbed them effortlessly, his movements impossibly fluid and swift. The water around them roared, churning violently under the shockwaves of their clash. No matter how relentless William's assault, Ruin stood unmoved, an unyielding fortress, every strike deflected as though meeting empty air.
"Predictable," Ruin growled, his voice reverberating through the water in a seismic pulse. His tail whipped around, striking with the force of a tidal wave and sending William sprawling. Eve's constructs, once glowing defiantly in the chaos, began to falter, their light dimming under the crushing pressure. Rain surged desperately, conjuring colossal limbs of water to entangle Ruin, but his claws tore through them with ease, sending torrents scattering in spiraling chaos. The Atlanteans charged with spears and tridents flashing, yet their strikes barely scratched the obsidian-scaled titan.
William lunged again, his fists burning with raw, untamed energy. Ruin snatched his punch mid-air, twisting with brutal precision and hurling him into the coral-strewn ocean floor. Agony shot through William's body, but he gritted his teeth and forced himself to rise, summoning every fragment of his strength. Each blow was countered, every move anticipated with unnerving accuracy. The battlefield seemed to tilt inexorably toward Ruin, a harrowing display of dominance.
"Even the child cannot defy inevitability," Ruin intoned, his voice a deep, icy rumble. William's heart thundered in his chest, his lungs burned with exertion, yet he would not surrender. Eve's constructs flickered weakly, Rain's efforts dissolved and reformed in frantic desperation, and the Atlanteans fought valiantly, but against the overwhelming might of Ruin, all resistance felt futile.
William's fists trembled with effort, exhaustion clawing at his every breath. The fire of his regeneration smoldered on, a stubborn ember against the colossal storm that was Ruin. Then, in a moment of clarity, Aquarius' gaze locked onto the chaos. Desperation sharpened his resolve as he seized the royal trident, the artifact glowing faintly with the promise of dominion over the endless tides.
"Rain! Now!" Aquarius roared, his voice piercing through the cacophony like a thunderclap. Time seemed to stretch thin. With a defiant cry, he hurled the trident into the heart of the battle. Water surged violently around it, spiraling in fluid currents that bent and twisted in its wake.
Ruin's golden eyes flicked toward the weapon, curiosity sparking where calm dominance had once ruled. The trident spun like a blazing comet through the churning seas. Rain surged forward, instinctively coiling around the weapon mid-flight. With an unyielding grip, the water-being seized the trident, energy coursing through its form like lightning through a stormcloud.
The response was immediate. The oceans awakened. Currents shifted with violent force, waves rising impossibly high, and the seabed shuddered beneath the surge of power. Water roared and writhed in obedience, encircling Rain and the trident like a living, vengeful leviathan. For the first time, Ruin's composure faltered, the overwhelming presence of the sea itself bending to the artifact's indomitable will.
William, battered but resolute, felt hope ignite in his chest as he witnessed the shift in power. Eve's constructs shimmered back to life, stabilizing as Rain's newfound dominion reshaped the battlefield. The oceans rumbled with a deafening pulse, a resonant force that echoed through the abyssal depths.
In that suspended instant of untamed, overwhelming power, Rain's form expanded to colossal dimensions, embodying the essence of the royal trident, with the waters themselves yielding to his fervent command. For the first time, Ruin's golden eyes betrayed a glimmer of genuine intrigue, and perhaps, a fleeting shadow of wariness.
[AN - Poseidon finna sue somebody!]