The Executioner's corpse smoldered, black smoke curling into the night sky. Ragnar's claws dripped with molten shadow and blood. Every muscle screamed. Every breath burned.
Selene leaned against a tree, silver veins glowing faintly beneath her skin. Her broken arm twitched involuntarily. "Don't… look at me like that," she muttered. "I'm not weak."
"You're dying," Ragnar said flatly.
Her silver eyes narrowed. "And you're a monster. Seems we both have problems."
The shadow inside him purred, sharp and hungry. Let her rot. She's a liability.
Ragnar ignored it. He crouched beside her, ripping cloth from his tunic to make a bandage. His hands were steady despite the tremor in his body. Selene flinched, but said nothing.
"You're helping me?" she whispered, disbelief in her voice.
"Don't flatter yourself," he replied. "If you die, I lose answers."
A brief silence fell. Only the hiss of smoldering embers and the faint rustle of the forest disturbed the night. Selene's smirk returned, weak but defiant. "Then keep me alive, Ragnar. You might regret it."
Ragnar glanced at her. Crimson-black eyes softened for a fraction of a second. The shadow hissed, displeased, but he shoved it aside. She had saved him multiple times tonight, her silver chains restraining the Executioner for just long enough.
The forest was quiet now, but the tension remained. Ash and blood coated the ground. The scent of molten iron and shadow lingered. Ragnar's mind raced—not with strategy, but with the weight of her curse. Every chain she summoned ate away at her life.
Selene's voice broke his thoughts. "You're thinking too much, shadow-born. If you don't act, the next one won't wait for hesitation."
Ragnar stood, stretching his aching limbs. The shadow behind him twisted, wings of darkness curling outward. His Abyssal Talons glimmered faintly, hungry for the next battle.
"Rest tonight," he said, voice low. "Tomorrow, we face the Purge Unit. They won't be easy."
Selene let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "Then we fight. Together."
Her silver eyes caught the moonlight, flickering with fire and frost. Ragnar met her gaze. For the first time, there was understanding—two broken warriors tied by survival, walking a knife-edge between life and death.
The night whispered warnings. Shadows stretched longer. Ash drifted on the wind. And in the center of it all, two monsters stood silently, waiting for the storm the dawn would bring.