The crimson river churned harder, its surface breaking into spirals of foam and glowing fissures. The air smelled of copper and smoke, as if the world itself was bleeding. Aloysius knew whatever was pushing from beyond wasn't the same as the creature before him. This was older. Meaner. And it wanted through.
The beast guarding the breach moved with frantic purpose now, not just attacking him but protecting the opening. Each swing of its limbs sent shockwaves through the earth, each roar shaking loose the memories of long-dead gods in the soil.
Aloysius pressed a hand to his chest. The god-spark throbbed against his ribs, as though it had a heartbeat of its own. Open it, it whispered. Let me take shape.
He had seen this once before an old warrior who had drawn too deep from the divine within and had come back… wrong. A puppet made of fire and hunger, barely able to remember his own name. Aloysius wasn't ready to cross that line. But if he didn't… the thing in the river would.
The creature lunged again, faster than before. Aloysius's sword met it mid-strike, the collision a blast of light and heat that split the battlefield in two. For a heartbeat, time slowed he could see every drop of molten blood dripping from the beast's wounds, hear every splinter of bone grinding against stone.
His mind raced.If he pushed now just once he could seal the breach before the second entity emerged. But the price…
"Damn it," he growled. "I'm not leaving the lock undone."
He drove his blade into the ground.The god-spark erupted.
Flames poured from him in concentric rings, bending trees and boiling the crimson river into clouds of steam. His vision bled white, and the forest's whispers grew deafening, urging him to finish the seal. The beast roared and rushed forward, but this time he was faster. He met it in the center of the clearing, their clash detonating like a war drum struck by thunder.
He didn't know how long he could hold.The last lock was breaking either by his hand, or by theirs.