The brutal war between the two gods raged on, a tempest of light and shadow that tore at the very fabric of reality. On the ground, the heroes were helpless. Elara, ever the pragmatist, was frantically analyzing the chaotic energy, searching for a flaw in the Architect's nature. Jace, seeing the sheer scale of the battle, could only stand in grim despair, his magic a useless spark against a cosmic conflagration. It was up to Kael, the Echo Hunter, to do something only they could.
Kael's gaze was fixed on the divine conflict above, their mind expanding to its absolute limit. They delved past the raw power of the battle and into the very echoes of its genesis. They could feel the Architect's rage, its bitterness, its profound sense of betrayal. They searched for a weakness in its ancient soul, a forgotten wound that could be exploited. They pushed deeper than they had ever gone before, and in doing so, they left their own soul vulnerable, their mind open to the world and all its echoes.
It was a fatal mistake.
The Architect, consumed by its brutal fight with its brother, felt a foreign presence in its own spiritual space. It recognized the echo as a human, a "gnat" trying to find its weakness. A flicker of triumph appeared on its massive, horrifying face. While the serene god was distracted, the Architect detached a small, insidious piece of its consciousness—an echo of its own malice—and sent it hurtling toward Kael.
Kael's body stiffened. Their eyes, once filled with the infinite sadness of the world's echoes, became cold and lifeless. A chilling, malevolent smile twisted their lips, and their limbs moved with a jerky, unnatural grace. The trio watched in silent, horrified disbelief as Kael's body turned and walked toward Aki. This was not Kael. This was an echo of the Architect, inhabiting their closest friend.
Lyra's voice, which had been in a state of cautious silence, screamed in Aki's mind. "Aki! No! Get away! He's corrupted!"
Aki was frozen in terror. He saw the face of the man who had been a mentor to him, but the eyes were not his. They were the cold, dead eyes of a predator. Before he could react, Kael's body moved with impossible speed. Its arm shot out, its hand wrapping around Aki's throat with a strength that felt like the grip of a cosmic force. The hand was cold, colder than death, and it radiated an energy that felt like a million dying suns.
Kael's possessed body lifted Aki into the air, effortlessly, his feet dangling uselessly. Aki clawed at the hand on his neck, the air being brutally squeezed from his lungs. The golden light of his divine power flickered and sputtered, unable to fight against this intimate and personal corruption.
"You speak of purity, little one?" the voice from Kael's mouth sneered, but it wasn't Kael's voice. It was a chorus of a thousand vengeful whispers. "You are not a living echo. You are a vessel. And a very, very frail one at that."
The Architect, in the body of its greatest enemy, looked up at the battling gods, its cold, lifeless eyes filled with mocking triumph. The serene god saw what was happening. He saw his brother's cunning, his betrayal, and he saw the helpless boy-hero in his grasp. The sight of this ultimate treachery caused him to falter in the battle, a momentary hesitation that the Architect would no doubt exploit.
Aki, with Lyra's desperate cries in his mind, felt his vision going dark. The cold grip on his throat was tightening. He couldn't breathe. The Architect, in Kael's body, had him at its mercy.