The battlefield lay silent.
Not the silence of peace, but the kind that presses down on the lungs, heavy and suffocating. Ash drifted in the air. The twisted spawn of the abyss crouched at the edges of the crater, watching. Waiting.
Vemy stood in the center, his chest heaving. The shadows around him didn't fade like before—they wound tighter, coiling like living chains. Each breath he took made them creak, like metal straining before it shatters.
Jaylin staggered to his side, blood smeared across his cheek, sword trembling in his grip. His voice cut through the suffocating stillness.
"Don't give in now. If you falter here—everything we've done will be wasted."
Vemy tried to answer.
But when he lifted his hand, the abyss pulled first. His claws slashed the air, black lightning rippling—aimed not at the cloaked figure… but at Jaylin.
The strike missed by an inch.
Jaylin's eyes widened, the shock visible even through his exhaustion. Vemy ripped his arm back, teeth gritted so hard they cracked.
"Damn it—" He hissed, shadows crawling across his skin like shackles. "It's… slipping."
The cloaked figure chuckled. He hadn't moved an inch since the last clash. His hood swayed in the wind, his voice calm, dripping with cruel amusement.
"A chain doesn't break from pulling. It breaks when the one holding it lets go."
He lifted his hand. The ground split open, black veins spreading like roots. Something clawed its way out—a monstrosity of endless arms, hands sprouting from hands, fingers that bent in impossible ways. Each palm bore a glaring eye.
The creature screeched, its cry scraping at the bones of everyone who heard it.
Jaylin moved instantly, intercepting the abomination, blade flashing. "Vemy! Hold it together!"
Vemy staggered. The abyss tore at him like a storm inside his veins, making his muscles spasm and his vision flicker. Every instinct screamed to lash out, to let go, to drown in the flood.
"If I resist… I'll shatter. If I yield… I'll vanish. Then what's left of me?"
The shadows writhed, biting into his flesh, testing his will. For a moment, Vemy's knees buckled.
But then he remembered.
Every moment of weakness. Every failure. Every reason he couldn't—wouldn't—stop here.
With a roar, he dragged the abyss inward. Not into his limbs. Not into his claws. He forced it into his chest, branding it to his heart.
The chains around him cracked.
Then they reformed—tighter, stronger, weaving around him like jagged armor. Not a cage. A crown.
Jaylin glanced back, eyes widening at the sight of him. The endless-handed creature recoiled, its screech faltering.
Vemy straightened, abyss flames burning in his gaze.
The cloaked figure's grin widened. "Good. Very good. Now…" His voice deepened, vibrating across the battlefield. "Let's see if your chain holds against the weight of a god."
The sky ripped open.
Light poured down, too vast, too crushing. Something immense stirred beyond the tear, a presence that made the earth itself bow.
Vemy raised his eyes, sweat sliding down his jaw. His shadows burned like fire around him, the weight of the abyss heavy but steady on his back.
"Then break me if you can."
The world held its breath.