The world tore itself apart the moment Kade's body ruptured.
The explosion wasn't fire. It wasn't light. It was something heavier, something that made the air itself feel like it had thickened, congealed into smoke and shadow. Shards of black glass screamed outward, piercing stone, tearing pews in half, slicing through what little remained of the cathedral's stained windows. The ground convulsed beneath me, trembling as though it, too, feared what had been unleashed. The roof groaned with a sound like the spine of the world cracking.
I hit the floor hard, face first into jagged stone. Pain flared from my side, raw and ragged, where Kade's claws had torn me open. Blood slicked the floor and my hands, warm and insistent, a reminder that survival was still possible. My ears rang so fiercely I couldn't hear my own ragged breaths, couldn't hear the faint whisper of Lysander's name that I forced through cracked lips.
Then the bond flared.
Lysander's hand clamped around mine, dragging me upright even as the floor beneath us cracked, dust choking the air. His breath came harsh and uneven, silver eyes ablaze with fire and fear, body trembling but unyielding. "Stand," his presence pressed into me without words. "Don't fall now."
And then I saw what Kade had become.
The ichor no longer coated him—it had become him. His body contorted in ways that mocked anatomy, bones jutting outward at impossible angles, skin peeling and reweaving itself into a shadow of fang and muscle. His silver eyes—once cruel, measured, deliberate—had fractured into dozens, scattered across his skull like broken glass, swiveling, unblinking, burning with a predator's hunger. Claws extended into jagged, sickle-like blades, each scrape leaving trails of fire against stone.
I gasped, every instinct screaming, but my legs refused to move. My chest tightened. My mind threatened to unravel.
The System's voice flared inside me, cold and static:
Aberration: Designation "Rival Ascendant."
Threat Level: Cataclysm.
Objective: Terminate.
Kade's grin stretched impossibly wide, layered with too many echoes. "You wanted a Rival. Now you've made me something more."
He lunged.
The cathedral buckled under his weight. Claws sliced through stone like paper, slamming in the spot where I had fallen seconds before. Lysander yanked me sideways, blade flashing, silver fire ripping through the darkness as it collided with Kade's black ichor. Sparks erupted from the impact, bouncing off shattered pews. I could feel them scorching the tips of my hair. The world had narrowed to the clang and roar of a single, impossible battle.
I staggered back, weapon trembling in my grip. It was no longer the crowbar I had wielded—it had reshaped itself, born from Claim, alive, hungry. Strike. Cut. Feed. Its whispering voice threaded into my skull. My head throbbed, pain drumming like a warhammer, but I raised it anyway. The alternative was death.
Kade's body contorted again. Bones snapped to new angles, and another arm burst from his side. He struck in two directions at once. Lysander intercepted one strike, sparks cascading across the ruin, while I barely managed to block the second. The impact threw me sprawling. My palms burned from the shard-blade biting into them, and a fine spray of ichor sizzled against my cheeks.
Dust rained from the ceiling, cracks webbing up the walls. Every strike threatened to bring the cathedral down entirely.
Warning: Structural Collapse Imminent.
The System's cold voice was drowned in the roar of the fight. My lungs burned. My side screamed, yet the bond flared, dragging me forward as Lysander roared through clenched teeth and drove his blade forward.
We moved. Together.
He feinted high, silver light slicing across Kade's chest. I swung low, my weapon tearing into the Aberration's leg. Ichor hissed against stone, sizzling like acid. Kade howled, a sound that split glass, rattled the air, and made the dust settle in jagged waves around us.
A claw lashed out, impossibly fast. I didn't see it until it was almost too late.
Lysander shoved me aside, taking the strike himself. His arm erupted in blood, silver fire sputtering across the wound. His breath came in sharp, ragged bursts, yet his grip on the blade never faltered.
"Lysander—!"
"Fight!" His voice tore through the bond, raw, jagged. "Fight with me!"
I staggered upright, every muscle screaming. The shard-blood coursing through me roared like a storm. Faces, voices, memories—already fraying, slipping through my fingers like sand—but the bond remained. Solid. Burning. Fierce. I clung to it as though it was all I had left.
We attacked again.
I leapt forward, weapon whistling, striking one of Kade's claws. The shard-blade cut deep; ichor sprayed, sizzling against my skin. Lysander plunged silver fire into Kade's side. Step by step, blow by blow, we forced the Aberration back. Yet every wound he bore seemed to knit itself, twisting his body into more grotesque, unnatural shapes. He was growing, feeding, changing.
Aberration Stability: 98%
Full Manifestation Achieved.
The cathedral screamed. Beams bent. Walls bowed. Light from the shards pulsed brighter, syncing with Kade's corrupted form. My bones thrummed with the shards' resonance.
Then he slammed his claws into the ground.
The earth split open. Black tendrils erupted, writhing like living whips, lashing the pews, walls, air itself. One wrapped around my leg, burning, pulling me down. Pain seared through me as I hacked at it with the shard-blade. Lysander's silver fire cleaved another tendril, his face pale, blood dripping from multiple wounds.
We couldn't win like this. Not like this.
The bond throbbed, urgent, alive. Lysander's thought struck mine: One strike. Together.
The shards responded, rising, trembling in the air. Light splintered into silver and black. Our bond flared, wrapping around us like a noose and a lifeline at once. My weapon lengthened, sharper, hungrier. Lysander's blade roared with silver fire, higher than ever.
We moved.
The world shrank to a single heartbeat.
Kade surged forward—claws arcing, ichor flying, voices screaming within the fragmenting ruin. Lysander and I moved as one, the bond pulling tight, every heartbeat synced. His silver fire met my shard-blade's black-and-silver light in a blinding explosion. Sparks rained down like molten stars, bouncing off shattered stone and splintered pews.
The impact rocked the cathedral, tearing through what little remained of the roof. Dust and rubble rained over us, making it hard to breathe, hard to see. My vision blurred, streaked with blood and shadow, but I forced my muscles to obey. Every strike, every parry, every motion was instinct, fire, fury—we could not lose now.
Kade screamed—not in triumph, but in something unrecognizable, a combination of rage and pain, echoing off the ruined walls. Every swing he made reshaped his monstrous form, each strike creating new claws, new angles, more limbs, more horror. It was as though the Aberration itself was learning from us, feeding from the chaos we inflicted.
My palms burned, gripping the shard-blade until the metal hissed against my skin. Every nerve screamed. My side throbbed violently, jagged pain radiating from the claw wound. I wanted to scream, to collapse, to let it end—but I couldn't. Not with Lysander there. Not with the bond alive between us.
He caught my gaze through the swirling dust, silver eyes glowing fiercely. "Again," he rasped, voice hoarse but commanding. "Together. One strike. Remember the bond."
I nodded, letting the fire in my veins answer him. One step forward, one swing forward, one heartbeat in perfect sync.
Kade's claws slammed into the ground again, black tendrils erupting like living lightning. One lashed at me, searing flesh. I yelped, twisting, letting the shard-blade meet it with a hiss of heated ichor. Lysander intercepted another, silver fire slicing through the tendril with a roar that split the air. We were alive, yes, but barely.
And then it came—the moment the shards responded fully. They rose, trembling, their fractured light splintering into silver-white fire, wrapping around us like a cocoon, like armor, like the heartbeat of the world itself. Our bond flared, thrumming so violently it felt as though it might tear us apart and fuse us together at the same time. My weapon stretched, sharp, alive. Lysander's blade burned hotter, silver light roiling like liquid fire.
We moved.
Time slowed, the world shrinking to a single, crystalized heartbeat. Kade lunged again, all claws and screaming mouths. Our blades met his, silver and black fire clashing, tearing stone and ichor alike. The impact was deafening, shaking the cathedral, making beams splinter, walls crumble, windows shatter. Light and shadow screamed into one another as our weapons tore deep into Kade's monstrous chest.
His howl split the world.
I was thrown backward, rolling across the shattered floor, shards of black glass cutting into my palms, my arms, my legs. Dust filled my mouth, coughing and choking me. When I pushed myself upright, Lysander was beside me, staggering, blood pouring down his chest, blade clutched with fingers slick and trembling. His silver fire flickered and dimmed with exhaustion—but his eyes… his eyes still burned with unyielding fire.
Kade convulsed, fracturing from the inside out. The Aberration's body split, black shards erupting outward, scattering across the ruin. And then… silence.
Dust settled. Blood pooled. The shards' fractured glow dimmed to a soft, pulsing hum. The cathedral—once a fortress of stone and shadow—was now a graveyard of ruin, smoke, and scattered light.
And then I saw him.
Lysander, barely standing, chest heaving, blade shattered, silver fire flickering weakly. His blood painted him in streaks of red and silver. I scrambled across the debris, hands slick with his blood, lungs burning.
"Lysander—don't you dare," I rasped, gripping his chest, feeling the ragged rise and fall of his breaths. Each one was weaker than the last, threatening to slip away like smoke through my fingers.
He groaned, one hand lifting to meet mine, trembling. The bond pulsed faintly, a thin thread of warmth threading through the chaos.
"You… lived. Good," his thought brushed against mine, faint but persistent.
"Shut up!" I hissed, voice cracking, blood and dust tangling my words. "Don't you—don't you dare act like it's over. We killed him. We survived. You're not—" My throat closed on the last word, choked by fear and relief.
The shards around us trembled, pulsing faintly, sensing, watching, waiting for something more.
I took a shuddering breath, staring at him. He coughed, then arched, silver light coursing back through his veins. His eyes shot open, blazing, alive, and the bond slammed back into me—fierce, unrelenting, molten. I felt his presence, whole and alive, pressing into mine until I could no longer tell where he ended and I began.
But the hollowness inside me throbbed. Memory fragments were gone, ripped away to stabilize the bond. Childhood laughter, voices I once loved, fleeting moments of warmth—they had vanished. I felt empty, hollow.
And then I saw it in his eyes.
He knew.
"Why?" His voice was rough, trembling, edged with fire and hurt. Bloodied fingers dug into mine, holding me tight despite his own weakness. "You burned yourself—for me."
I swallowed, throat tight. "I couldn't… I couldn't lose you."
His jaw clenched, silver light flickering around him. For a moment, he looked away, muscles tensing, breath uneven. Then, with all the weight of someone who had survived hell beside you, he returned his gaze to mine.
"Then hear me," he whispered, voice raw but unyielding. "Never again. If it costs you yourself, never again. I will not allow you to vanish piece by piece for me."
The shards dimmed slightly, as though even they understood.
I wanted to promise, to swear. But the emptiness pulsed, reminding me of all I had lost. Instead, I tightened my grip on his hand, voice breaking, "Then don't leave me the way he did."
For a heartbeat, silence. Dust settled. The ruin groaned softly around us. His hand held mine, firm. His eyes softened, just enough to reveal the cracks in his fire.
"I won't," he said. "Not until the end."
The bond sealed, heavier than ever, unyielding.
But in the shadows, in the corners of the ruined cathedral, the ichor still lingered. It seeped into cracks, whispering faintly, pooling deeper into the earth. The Aberration was gone—but not destroyed. Not yet.