The ruined cathedral breathed and shifted as if it might collapse at any moment. Each gust of wind rattled the broken stained glass overhead. Rain pressed through gaps in the ancient stone, trailing down cracked pillars in winding streams. The only light came from blue fire racing through spell markings, igniting the walls and floor with a spectral glow.
At the center of this broken sanctuary, the demon witch hovered in silence. It was a monstrous fusion—its body twisted, stretched by darkness, every limb wrapped in black flames that writhed against the storm. Beneath its skin, veins of blue fire pulsed in time with some unseen, monstrous heart. Its head swiveled, the mouth splitting and reshaping, eyes glowing slits of cold blue that seemed to fix on everything and nothing.
Gabriella kept her distance, boots braced on a chunk of fallen marble. Her breath came in steady, practiced draws, but she could feel the strain in her arms and the dull ache in her ribs. She adjusted her grip, letting starlight gather across her palms, just enough to keep the worst of the cold at bay. Indra stood to her left, both swords drawn, knees bent in a fighter's stance. He glanced up once, searching for an opening, but the witch didn't move. It simply watched, letting the storm build.
The silence broke all at once.
The witch raised both hands. Glyphs ignited, swirling outward from its fingertips in a rush of blue fire. A deep, vibrating sound ripped through the air—every spell marking in the cathedral detonated. Light flooded the nave, and with it came a deluge of conjured weapons: spears, axes, massive blades, each forged from shadow and hatred, spinning as they fell. The vortex spiraled downward, a tide of violence shaped by the witch's will.
Gabriella's eyes narrowed. "Indra, back!" Her voice was even, sharpened by battle, no panic in it. Her aura flared gold as she leapt back, forming a shield of starlight just above her head. Indra darted forward, weaving between the falling weapons. He moved by instinct, trusting the rhythm of battle. A blade clipped the edge of his shoulder, but he rolled through the pain, slashing at an incoming spear and sending it spinning off course.
The sound of metal and magic colliding echoed through the cathedral. Every impact sent shivers through the foundation, dust and glass falling in sheets from the high windows. Indra called out, "We need a clear shot at the core!" He ducked beneath a black halberd that embedded itself in the stone floor, then swept aside a spinning sickle with the flat of his blade.
Above them, the witch hovered like a conductor. Its voice emerged in harsh, overlapping tones. "There is no escape."
Dozens of weapons orbited its body in perfect formation, their edges catching blue fire. The fused eyes fixed on Gabriella. "You will break."
Gabriella's answer was wordless. She lifted both hands, sending starlight crackling along her arms, and fired a volley of star-shaped projectiles that blazed across the cathedral. Each one struck with the weight of a falling meteor. The impacts rocked the witch back, scattering some of its orbiting blades, but did not break its stance. Fragments of divine light rained down, splattering the ground with afterimages that sizzled on the wet stone.
Smoke billowed, but the witch remained, undaunted. It opened its mouth and released a pulse of shadow that swept the smoke aside. "Is that all, little star?"
Indra pressed forward, using the distraction. He feinted left, drawing the witch's attention, then sprinted right and drove his blade at the creature's side. The steel met resistance—more like stone than flesh. The witch pivoted, catching Indra's arm in a grip so cold he nearly dropped his weapon. It twisted, forcing him to his knees, then tossed him into a broken pew. Wood splintered beneath his weight.
He coughed, steadying himself, and rolled to avoid another conjured blade that embedded itself where his head had been a second earlier. He heard Gabriella shout, but the sound was swallowed by the next storm of weapons.
The glyphs pulsed again. This time the air filled not only with falling blades, but with a haze of blue lightning arcing from the walls. Gabriella braced, her aura flaring brighter. "Indra! Shield!" She swept her arm in an arc, expanding the field of light to encompass both of them. The barrier trembled as weapons and lightning struck it in relentless waves.
Stone groaned, and pieces of the cathedral roof collapsed inward. Rain fell harder, soaking the floor, steam rising where it met fragments of divine energy. The air grew dense, every breath thick with the scent of scorched stone and wet ash.
Indra pressed his back to Gabriella's side, swords ready, voice low. "How much longer can you hold that?"
She didn't answer at first, jaw clenched as another wave slammed the shield. "Long enough. We need to take its focus."
The witch circled, arms wide. Its voice echoed across the ruins. "You hold onto hope as if it matters."
Gabriella set her feet, took a single step forward, and unleashed a spear of concentrated light directly at the witch's chest. The attack landed with a thunderclap, staggering the creature. For a moment, the shield around them weakened as Gabriella's focus shifted. Indra took the opening, sprinted straight at the witch, and swung both swords in a cross pattern at its midsection.
The blades struck true—this time, one cut deeper. Black ichor hissed where the steel met flesh, but the witch retaliated instantly, grabbing Indra by the throat and lifting him off his feet. He kicked, twisting, and drove his knee into its arm. The grip loosened just enough for him to slip free, land awkwardly, and stagger away as the witch's clawed hand scraped along his ribs, leaving bloody lines.
Gabriella advanced, throwing another burst of starlight. The witch blocked the attack, but her next shot slipped past its defenses, carving a line of gold across its jaw. The creature roared, spinning in place, and unleashed another barrage of conjured weapons that rained in every direction. Indra and Gabriella separated, dodging in opposite directions as blades tore up the floor and pillars alike.
Lightning flashed, illuminating the witch as it absorbed the storm. Every new weapon it conjured was larger, heavier, more vicious. Its presence seemed to pull the world into its orbit. Indra moved by feel, every sense alert to the next threat. A lance tore through his sleeve, barely missing the skin. He pushed on, never stopping, every breath a struggle.
Gabriella drew in close, sweat pouring down her face. Her aura flickered, showing the first signs of fading. She forced herself on, ignoring the ache in her limbs. She let loose a stream of concentrated starlight, not as strong as before, but sharp and fast enough to keep the witch guessing.
The creature spun, caught off guard, and Indra saw his chance. He darted in, both blades aimed at its exposed side. One sword connected, opening another wound, but the witch retaliated with a backhand that caught Indra across the face, sending him sprawling across the slick floor.
He tasted blood, vision swimming. He heard the witch closing in, its shadow falling over him. Gabriella intercepted, slamming her shoulder into the witch, knocking it off balance for a second.
She looked down at Indra, eyes fierce. "Up. Now."
He forced himself to his feet, wiping blood from his mouth. "Yeah. Still here."
The witch righted itself, circling them both. "Is this the best your order has left?"
Gabriella said nothing. She drew herself up, her light burning steady, and stood at Indra's side. For a heartbeat, they watched the witch gather every fallen weapon, drawing them into a swirling mass above its head. Glyphs flashed in the air—an intricate web of violence and power. Indra felt the pressure building, his ears ringing.
The witch hurled the mass downward. Gabriella moved faster than thought, pulling Indra against her and raising a dome of light around them. The impact was catastrophic. The barrier shattered under the first blow, a shockwave blasting outward, ripping up the floor. Indra and Gabriella were flung apart by the force.
Gabriella landed hard, back slamming into a fallen column. Pain shot through her body, sharp and blinding. Her armor cracked, starlight sputtering as she gasped for air. Indra crashed on hands and knees, head spinning, struggling just to get up.
The rain fell heavier, hissing against the hot stone. Dust clouded the space between combatants.
The witch stepped forward, drawing in darkness with every breath. It reached out, sending a blade of pure shadow streaking toward Indra. He rolled aside, barely avoiding the strike, and scrambled to his feet. He was running on instinct, battered and bruised.
Gabriella forced herself to rise, legs shaking, jaw tight. She summoned the last of her light, sending a narrow beam across the witch's vision, blinding it for a second.
Indra seized the chance, charging in for a desperate attack. He landed a solid hit on the witch's leg, buckling it for a moment. The creature lashed out, claws catching Indra in the side, but he pressed forward, landing another strike that drove the witch back a few paces.
Gabriella saw the opening and moved, but the effort was too much. Her aura flickered. She hesitated, knees buckling. The witch turned on her, face twisted in a snarl, and unleashed a surge of blue fire that slammed into her chest. She hit the ground hard, a ragged scream torn from her throat.
Indra spun around, eyes wide. He started toward her, but the witch intercepted, forcing him back with a flurry of shadowed spears. Indra fought to reach Gabriella, but every step was met with a new onslaught.
Finally, the witch gathered every ounce of its power, forming a single massive weapon—an obsidian lance wrapped in blue flame.
It hurled the lance. The weapon tore through the air, cutting a black scar through what remained of the cathedral's light.
Indra shouted her name, but Gabriella could only lift her hand in a feeble attempt at defense. The lance struck her barrier and shattered it, sending her flying backward into a mound of debris.
Her body went limp. The starlight in her eyes faded.
For a long moment, nothing moved but the rain and the witch's breath. The battle seemed frozen. Indra stood there, rain streaking down his face, staring at Gabriella's still form, feeling the whole world tighten into a single, silent question.
The witch, sensing victory, lowered its arms. Its voice, when it spoke, was almost a whisper. "All that's left is you."
Indra's grip tightened around his swords. He took one breath, steady and cold, and stepped forward into the storm.
Behind him, Gabriella did not move.