The demon's laughter echoed across the fractured crater, reverberating through every shard of ice and shadow that Michael had summoned. Its grin widened, sharp as obsidian, yet Michael's mind felt clearer than ever.
The fear, the grief, the guilt over Zane, it was all there, coiling inside him like venom, but instead of paralyzing him, it fueled something deeper, something primal.
He steadied his breath, grounding himself in the ice beneath his palms and the shadows curling at his fingertips.
Every muscle screamed with exhaustion, every nerve on fire, yet his resolve hardened like steel forged in frost. He could feel his powers tugging at one another, whispering, testing, searching for harmony.
And then, with a clarity born of desperation and rage, he let them merge. The jagged ice-shadow blade in his hands shivered violently, humming like a living entity. Michael gritted his teeth and slammed it into the crater floor.
