The arena of stone and shadow groaned under the weight of the coming battle. Lilax's bulk filled the shattered corridor like a grotesque mountain given life—its skin a tapestry of slick green muscle and glistening crimson sores that pulsed in rhythm with some unseen heartbeat. Each breath it took misted the air with a foul vapor, and the dripping stalactites above quivered in response.
The Gateborn Hunters fanned out, their boots splashing in the shallow pools left by the leaking aqueducts. The jagged light filtering through the collapsed ceiling illuminated their sigils—each one a different mark of oath, burnished onto the steel plates of their armor. Levitine's voice cut through the low, guttural rumble of lilax's growl.
"Keep your spacing! If it lashes, you lose your head!"
Withered Flame grinned from behind his mask of iron thorns, already drawing a trail of ember-fire into his curved blade. Lenara's lighthearted tone was absent now; she stood with her daggers reversed, her hair hanging in sweat-damp strands, watching the creature with an intensity that could cut stone.
Lilax didn't wait for them to finish planning. It lunged forward, every ounce of its obscene mass moving faster than seemed possible. The ground split under its charge.
Levitine's blade sang as it intercepted one of its many claws, sparks fanning out. Withered Flame's fire slashed into its hide, leaving molten streaks that hissed and popped—but lilax's roar only deepened, vibrating the marrow of every bone in the chamber.
Aaren moved without thinking, feeling the warmth coil in his chest—the power that was never entirely his. His hands erupted in threads of black lightning, curling and snapping in chaotic arcs. His breathing hitched, but the fear of losing control was swallowed by the pulse in his ears.
"Stay behind me—" Lenara's warning was cut off as Aaren dashed forward.
He didn't strike lilax directly. The ground around it erupted in jagged spikes of obsidian as his power surged outward, the air thick with the metallic scent of burning ozone. Squigbump reared back, startled for the first time—but its eyes, bulbous and unblinking, locked onto Aaren with a new kind of interest.
It knew.
It could feel it—whatever he was.
With each swing, Aaren's strikes grew less controlled, more destructive. The lightning wasn't just black now—it shimmered with veins of crimson that writhed like living veins. Every movement of his arm tore rifts in the stone, scorching the air.
Levitine barked, "Aaren! Pull it back! Now!"
But Aaren couldn't hear him.
Something inside him snapped.
The world tilted sideways in his mind. The power didn't just flow—it flooded him, burning away thought, mercy, and restraint. Lilax's next strike was deflected with such force that the shockwave flattened a portion of the ceiling, sending boulders crashing around them.
Lenara ducked a falling slab and shouted over the roar, "He's not in control—!"
Withered Flame glanced at Levitine. "We end this quick, or he's going to kill all of us."
The black-and-red lightning swallowed Aaren's outline now, making him almost unrecognizable. Squigbump lunged again, but Aaren met it head-on with a scream that split into two voices—one his own, one something far older. The impact blew a hole clean through the far wall, revealing a black chasm beyond.
It was then that Koro appeared—his cloak a swirl of deep cerulean, runes burning across his arms like molten brands. His expression was sharp, but not entirely surprised.
"I told you this would happen," he muttered, stepping onto the battlefield.
"Koro—control him!" Lenara yelled.
Koro's hands moved in sharp, deliberate patterns, and the air around Aaren began to compress. Invisible bindings of force coiled around him, trying to pull the lightning back into his body. For a moment, it seemed to work—until Aaren's head snapped toward him.
The lightning writhed violently, shattering Koro's restraints in a burst of static that knocked him back into a broken pillar.
"Damn it," Koro hissed, wiping the blood from his lip. "It's deeper than I thought."
Then came another voice, cool and unwavering.
"Step aside, Koro."
Core emerged from the shadows at the edge of the chamber. His presence was like an anvil dropped into the room—silent but impossibly heavy. The Gateborn Hunters instinctively made way for him.
Core's eyes locked onto Aaren, and in that moment, the roaring chaos seemed to bend around his gaze.
"Aaren," Core said—not shouting, not commanding, but speaking in a tone so calm it was almost impossible not to listen. "If you keep going, you'll be something you can't come back from."
For a heartbeat, the black lightning stuttered.
Lilax sensed the shift and tried to strike while Aaren's focus faltered—but Core's arm blurred, and the creature was slammed back into the wall with a single palm strike that cracked the stone like an eggshell.
Core didn't look at it. His eyes never left Aaren.
"You're not the only one with something inside them," he said.
The tension in the air thickened—Core's presence pressing against Aaren's chaotic energy like two storms colliding. Koro, regaining his footing, joined in, layering his restraints again, this time infused with Core's stabilizing influence. The lightning flared, resisted, but began to shrink, coiling back into Aaren's frame.
Aaren staggered, his knees buckling, the heat draining from his body.
Lilax let out a bellow, shaking off the rubble, but now its movements were slower, wary. It looked between Core, Koro, and the weakened Aaren—hesitation clear even in its grotesque form.
Levitine raised his sword again. "We're not done."
Core didn't look away from Aaren. "No… but we will be."
With a sudden, fluid motion, Core turned, crossed the distance, and struck lilax's chest with the flat of his hand. A pulse of force rippled through the air, sending the creature tumbling through the chasm Aaren had opened earlier. Its roar echoed into the blackness until it was swallowed completely.
Silence.
Only the sound of dripping water and Aaren's ragged breathing filled the chamber.
Koro stepped forward, his voice low. "That wasn't just a slip of control. That was something… calling the shots for him."
Core nodded. "I know. And next time, it won't let go so easily."
The Gateborn Hunters exchanged uneasy glances. Whatever victory this was, it felt temporary.
And somewhere, deep in the chasm below, Squigbump's laughter rumbled back to them—distorted, wet, and promising.