The field shuddered. The sun bled black. The horizon split wide.
The Watcher was not finished.
It was only beginning.
---
Rick could not move at first. His knees dug into the ashen grass, his palms pressed hard against Devil's chest, feeling for a heartbeat that refused to come. The spear remained lodged like a cruel monument, its fused shadow-flame flickering weakly now, as though mocking the battle they had just fought.
The laughter had not stopped. It was softer here, muffled by the illusion of a field, yet it scraped through the cracks in the sky. Not killed. Never killed. Delayed. Always delayed.
Rick clenched his teeth. "Shut up," he hissed, though his voice trembled. He could feel his companions stirring around him—Sun coughing flames from his throat, Piu clutching her half-broken staff, Babasaheb still weaving faint runes into the unstable air. They had survived the abyss, but only barely.
"Rick…" Piu's whisper reached him. Her translucent form flickered, edges dissolving like smoke. "He's still here. I can feel him. Don't let go."
Rick pressed harder, his tears hot against Devil's unmoving chest. "I'm not letting go. Not now. Not ever."
The sky screamed. The crack widened, light and dark pouring from the wound like spilled blood. And through it… something stirred. Something older. The Watcher had been hunger, endless and consuming, but this presence was deeper. It was not hunger. It was the silence before hunger, the void that gave hunger meaning.
Babasaheb's lips stopped moving. His eyes widened, face drained of color. "This… this is not the Watcher. This is what lies beyond it. The Root."
Sun forced himself upright, flames barely clinging to his cracked body. "You mean… there's something worse than that monster?"
Babasaheb nodded slowly, his runes unraveling like threads in a storm. "The Watcher is but a fragment. An echo of a greater will. And now, the Root has seen us."
The false field warped. The grass bled into rivers of ink. The wind carried voices, countless whispers overlapping in every tongue and none. The blackened sun overhead throbbed like a beating heart, its veins stretching across the cracked sky.
Rick's body shook, but not from fear. From refusal. "I don't care what it is. I don't care if it's the Root, the Watcher, or the whole abyss itself. We're not done. Not while he's still breathing."
He pressed harder against Devil's chest—and felt it. Faint. Weak. But real.
A heartbeat.
Rick's head snapped up. "He's alive!"
Sun staggered closer, flames igniting with new vigor. "Then we fight. We hold it off, whatever it is, until Devil wakes."
The black sun pulsed. A tendril of shadow broke through the horizon, vast as a mountain, curling downward. Each movement shredded the false field further, revealing glimpses of the abyss beneath—oceans of teeth, storms of chains, skies that bled instead of rained.
The Root was descending.
Piu raised her broken staff, though her hands trembled. "I don't… I don't think we can fight this."
"No," Babasaheb agreed, his voice grim. "But perhaps we can resist. Delay, as it said." His hands rose again, drawing runes that sparked like silver fire. "Every delay is a chance for Devil to return."
Rick did not rise. He stayed kneeling, one hand gripping Devil's wrist, the other braced on the spear. "Come back to me," he whispered fiercely. "You hear me, Devil? We're not finished. You promised—you're not dying here. Not like this."
The ground erupted. Chains burst upward, thicker than towers, their tips snapping like whips. Sun intercepted one, his flames colliding with the black steel. The impact hurled him backward, shattering the earth beneath him, but he gritted his teeth and stood again.
"Come on, you bastard," Sun growled at the sky. "You'll have to do better than that!"
Another chain lashed toward Piu. She lifted her staff, light flaring weakly. The impact threw her across the ashen grass, her form flickering dangerously. Rick's heart lurched, but before he could move, Babasaheb's runes caught her, cushioning her fall.
"Hold the line!" Babasaheb roared, his voice infused with power. "Every breath, every second—we buy him time!"
Rick squeezed Devil's hand. "Hear that? They're fighting for you. For us. Don't make their sacrifice worthless. Come back!"
Devil's fingers twitched again. His lips parted, breath rasping faintly. His crimson eyes fluttered beneath closed lids.
And then—
The spear moved.
It vibrated, shadow and flame sparking once more. Rick froze, terrified it would drive deeper. But instead… it pulsed outward, releasing waves of energy that struck the oncoming chains, dissolving them into smoke.
Rick's eyes widened. "He's fighting it."
The black sun pulsed again, harder this time. The horizon tore wide, and from the wound descended a shape too vast to comprehend—a mouth, or an eye, or both, layered in endless spirals. The Root itself gazed upon them.
Piu screamed, clutching her head. Sun staggered, blood dripping from his mouth. Babasaheb's runes shattered.
Rick felt it too. The weight. The will. The Root did not hunger. It claimed. It was not asking for vessels or corpses. It was asserting truth: All is mine.
But beneath his hands, Devil's heartbeat grew stronger. The spear flared brighter.
Rick leaned down, his forehead pressed against his friend's. "Do you hear it, Devil? Do you hear them? They're not chains. They're lies. And you're stronger than lies. You're you. You're Devil. Come back!"
The world split again.
From Devil's chest erupted light—not just flame, not just shadow, but something new. A third force, spiraling upward, defying both dark and blaze. It struck the Root's gaze, and for the first time, the vast presence faltered.
The false sky cracked further, fragments falling like glass. The field dissolved, revealing the abyss beneath once more—but it was different now. Not endless black. Not consuming hunger. It was shifting, struggling, as though the very concept of it was being rewritten.
Rick rose to his feet, still holding Devil's wrist, his body shaking from the energy pouring through him. "We're not your prey," he shouted into the collapsing sky. "We're not your vessels. We're not yours at all!"
Sun's flames surged higher, wrapping him in molten gold. Piu's staff blazed like a star despite its broken form. Babasaheb's runes reformed, sharper and steadier than before.
Together, they stood against the Root.
The spear lifted, dragging Devil upright though his eyes remained closed. His mouth opened, and a voice—not entirely his, not entirely other—spoke.
"I am not vessel. I am not host. I am not yours. I… am Devil."
The black sun shrieked. Chains shattered. The horizon convulsed.
And then—
Everything collapsed.
Rick felt the ground vanish beneath him, the world folding inward. He clung to Devil with everything he had, refusing to let go as reality itself inverted.
There was no field. No sky. No abyss.
Only falling.
Endless falling.
And in that fall, Rick heard a whisper—not the Watcher, not the Root, but something else entirely.
The price has not yet been paid.
The voice was neither cruel nor kind. Simply truth.
Rick's grip tightened. "Then I'll pay it. Whatever it takes. Just bring him back."
Light swallowed everything.
---
When Rick's eyes opened, he was on his knees again. But the world around him was no field, no abyss.
It was a throne room. Vast, ancient, carved from stone that glowed faintly with veins of light. At its far end rose a throne of shattered chains, and upon it sat a figure cloaked in shifting light and shadow.
Devil.
But not as he had known him. His friend's body was whole, yet his eyes burned with both crimson and gold, shadow and flame dancing across his skin. The spear still jutted from his chest, but now it pulsed like a heart.
Rick staggered forward. "Devil…"
The figure's gaze lifted, fixing on him. For a moment, recognition sparked.
Then the throne room shook.
Chains coiled along the walls. The black sun bled through the ceiling. The Root had found them again.
And Devil—his voice echoed like two souls speaking at once—
"Run."
Rick froze. "What? No! I'm not leaving you!"
Devil's eyes flared, pain and power warring in equal measure. "If you stay… it will claim you too. I can't hold it back. Not yet. Please… Rick. Go."
The chains began to descend. The black sun pressed harder through the cracks.
Rick's choice burned in his chest.
Stay and be consumed. Or leave and abandon his friend.
---
The throne room shook. The spear pulsed violently. The Root descended.
Rick's hand reached forward—
And the world shattered once more.