The battlefield stank of static and burnt ozone. Where the Nullifiers had dissolved, the earth was scarred with blackened glyphs that pulsed faintly, like open wounds that refused to heal. The heat of the fire mingled with the lingering metallic tang of blood and the sharp, acrid scent of burned circuitry. Shadows twisted in the firelight, long and restless, as if the ground itself remembered the violence that had passed over it.
Erevan sat slumped against a half-charred tree, chest heaving, every breath a ragged echo of the battle that had just ended. His shard throbbed painfully in his chest, resonating with Vega's signature, a rhythmic pull that left his muscles tense and raw. Each pulse felt like a reminder that they were never really alone—and that danger was never far behind.
Kaelith crouched beside him, calm and precise, bandaging a gash along his forearm. Her fingers were steady, but her jaw was tight, her green eyes scanning the perimeter as if expecting the system to strike again at any second. "You keep bleeding like this, Erevan," she said quietly, her tone clipped but not unkind, "and you'll dry out before the system even has a chance to patch you."
Erevan let out a crooked smile, trying to sound lighter than he felt. "Well, at least then I'd save it the trouble."
Kaelith's glare cut sharper than any blade. "That's not funny."
Sir Quacksalot waddled over at that moment, dragging a mangled Nullifier core behind him like a trophy. He dropped it at Erevan's feet and quacked with what could only be described as violent pride, feathers ruffling like a tiny, feathered storm.
Erevan reached down and patted the duck's head weakly. "Yeah, yeah. MVP as always." His smirk faded into a grimace as he shifted slightly, feeling the shard pulse violently, a constant reminder of the price they had paid.
Vega remained apart, trembling, their body flickering in and out of corrupted textures. One second they looked entirely human, the next they were a blur of static gray and glitching symbols, their form half-erased from reality. Erevan's eyes followed them with a mixture of awe and concern.
"I could feel you," Vega said finally, voice glitching in and out like two overlapping signals. "When you linked us, it was like… someone stitching my broken pieces back together with their own thread. You almost tore yourself apart."
Erevan tilted his head, voice rough but laced with humor. "That's kinda my thing."
Kaelith's tone snapped sharply. "It's not a thing. It's suicide."
A ping sounded faintly in the back of Erevan's mind. He recognized it immediately. Stability dropping. His chest tightened as the shard inside him throbbed.
[System Alert: Stability reduced. Current: 42%]
Erevan exhaled with a faint chuckle. "See? Even the system agrees with you. You two should start a fan club."
Kaelith rolled her eyes, adjusting the bandage. "One more reckless link like that, and you'll be a memory. I hope you realize that."
Vega's glitching features softened as they spoke, almost human despite the flickering. "No… he'll be more than that. He'll be the first of us who proved the system wrong."
Erevan blinked, caught off guard by the weight in those words. "That's a lot of pressure," he muttered, voice quieter than he intended.
Vega tilted their head slightly, their glitching features stabilizing for a brief instant. "You carry it anyway. I can see it."
Erevan leaned back against the rough bark of the tree, letting the firelight wash over him. He felt the exhaustion in his bones, the residual ache of battle, and the hum of Vega's unstable code resonating through his own. He could feel it in his chest, in the beat of his shard, the way the air itself seemed to warp around them. It was beautiful and terrifying all at once.
Before he could respond, the ground beneath them trembled. A low, unnatural hum threaded through the air, resonating in Erevan's teeth. The shadows along the edges of the clearing seemed to grow darker, stretching in ways that defied the firelight. They were long, clawed shapes, moving against the natural flow of light, like ink bleeding across a page.
Kaelith's bow was nocked before the shadows had fully formed. Her stance was tense, ready, unflinching. "Not again," she muttered, voice tight.
Vega froze mid-step, glitching violently. "No… these aren't Nullifiers," they whispered, voice trembling with both fear and awe.
The shadows peeled themselves from the ground, coalescing into half-formed, semi-real figures that looked like echoes of the Nullifiers they had destroyed. Their forms were smeared and fluid, as if drawn with charcoal on water, eyes glowing a dull, ominous crimson. The air around them seemed to pulse with a strange hunger, a palpable desire for the shard inside Erevan.
Erevan's stomach tightened. He felt the shard in his chest thrum violently, every pulse like a warning drumbeat. The words of Kaelith rang in his mind. They won't stop until you're gone.
He clenched his jaw, gripping Pathbreaker tightly, feeling the weight of both the shard and responsibility pressing down on him. He could sense Vega's unstable energy nearby, trembling, flickering, as if the shadows were reaching for both of them.
Erevan exhaled slowly, letting his mind focus despite the panic rising in his chest. He wasn't just fighting for himself. He was fighting for Vega, for Kaelith, for the fragile spark of resistance they were building.
The first Shade lunged at him with a screech that rattled his teeth. He swung Pathbreaker instinctively, cutting through the smoky form, but it passed through harmlessly, leaving only a streak of static across his chest. The shard in his chest throbbed in protest, sending a painful jolt up his arm.
Erevan staggered back, gritting his teeth. "Okay… they literally eat me. This is… great."
Kaelith loosed an arrow with deadly precision, but it passed straight through the Shade, unaffected. Her eyes narrowed. "Not physical."
Vega's hands ignited with glyph-fire, glowing runes swirling around them as they prepared to strike. "Then we'll fight shadow with code," they said, voice firmer now, flickering stabilizing just slightly.
Sir Quacksalot, never one to be subtle, flapped into the air with a determined squeak, diving at a Shade and biting its leg with all the chaotic bravery of a creature who did not care about consequences. The shadow shrieked, a sound that was neither human nor duck, and collapsed momentarily under the disruption.
Erevan barked a laugh, dodging another swipe of claws. "Did… did my duck just bite a ghost?"
The firelight flickered, casting their elongated shadows across the clearing. Every pulse of Erevan's shard made the Shades grow stronger, feeding on the instability, shaping their smoky forms into sharper, crueler shapes.
Kaelith shouted, tension in every word. "They're locked to you! They won't stop until you're gone!"
Erevan's grin was tight, dangerous, though he could feel the shard burning within him. "Then I guess I'll give them a meal they can't choke down," he muttered, drawing the unstable pulse deep into himself, feeling the raw energy thrumming, threatening to tear him apart.
A wave of raw glitch energy exploded from Erevan, searing through the Shades, unraveling their smoky forms. Their shrieks echoed into the night as they disintegrated, devoured by the pulse of his shard.
Erevan collapsed to one knee, chest heaving, vision swimming, shard throb slowing but leaving his body raw and trembling. Kaelith grabbed his shoulders instantly, eyes burning with a mixture of fury and relief. "You absolute fool! You're killing yourself!"
Erevan coughed, grinning weakly despite the exhaustion. "Technically, I'm killing shadow monsters. Big difference."
Vega approached slowly, body trembling with static, but eyes wide with awe. "No one else could have done that. You're more than just an anomaly. You're… a catalyst."
Erevan blinked. "Catalyst? Sounds like a fancy word for walking bug report."
Kaelith shook her head, exasperated but faintly smiling. "Or maybe it means you're the first step. The one that forces the rest of us to act."
Above them, the shadows along the treeline didn't vanish. They lingered, twitching, watching. Somewhere, deep in the code, the faint echo of Kyros's laughter rippled again, a reminder that this fight was far from over.
The Shadows had risen fully from the dirt, half-formed specters of the Nullifiers they had just destroyed. Their smoky, shifting forms twisted unnaturally, eyes glowing crimson with hunger. Every pulse from Erevan's shard seemed to feed them, shaping their shadows into sharper, more dangerous forms. The ground beneath them seemed to ripple, as though the battlefield itself had become alive with predatory intent.
Erevan pushed himself to his feet, gripping Pathbreaker tightly. Each breath scorched his lungs, each movement sending pain from his shard radiating through his chest. His mind raced, calculating the danger with razor-sharp precision even as fear climbed his spine. He could feel Vega trembling behind him, glyph-fire flickering like a fragile heartbeat, and Kaelith's arrows ready but futile against intangible foes.
He glanced down at Sir Quacksalot, who waddled forward with terrifying resolve, feathers bristling like a tiny storm. "You're on your own, little feathered assassin," Erevan muttered under his breath, smirking despite the tension.
The first Shade lunged. Its claws slashed through the air, missing Erevan by mere inches. Sparks hissed off Pathbreaker as he swung in a wide arc, cutting through its smoky form. The shadow shrieked, twisting into a new shape mid-air. Each strike he landed tore at the shard inside him, a white-hot ache that radiated through his chest. The instability clawed at his mind, whispers of failure threading through his thoughts.
This is insane. You can't survive this, he thought, but the look on Vega's flickering face silenced the doubt. The Codebearer was struggling, yes, but their eyes held trust and desperation. Erevan couldn't falter—not now.
Vega stepped forward, glyphs igniting across their hands. They lashed out, strands of blazing code whipping through the shadows. The Shades screamed in distortion, disintegrating partially before reassembling, feeding off their instability. "Fight them with me," Vega urged, voice trembling but firm.
Sir Quacksalot, never one to wait, leapt at a Shade mid-flight, biting into its leg. The shadow let out a distorted, echoing quack, writhing violently before collapsing into harmless static for a moment. Erevan barked a laugh. "That duck is officially scarier than half of these things!"
Kaelith shouted, loosing arrow after arrow. "Don't even encourage him!"
But the Shadows didn't hesitate. Each pulse from Erevan's shard made them stronger, more coherent, more dangerous. Their smoky claws slashed at his chest, leaving streaks of static that burned his flesh. He staggered back, gritting his teeth. "Okay… literally eating me alive now. Perfect."
Erevan felt the shard inside him scream, thrumming violently as if urging him to do something impossible. The pain was staggering, every heartbeat sending shivers of raw energy through his limbs. Then, a thought crystallized: he could overload it. Burn the instability outward. Destroy the Shades with the raw, unfiltered chaos of his shard.
This will hurt. Might kill me. But it's either me or them.
He braced himself, gripping Pathbreaker, feeling the shard pulse beneath his ribs like a living thing. The world seemed to slow, each shadowed claw, each flickering glyph, frozen in a heartbeat of anticipation. Then he let the shard roar.
A wave of raw, chaotic glitch energy exploded from Erevan, searing outward in every direction. Shadows shrieked as their smoky forms unraveled, feeding on his instability only to be consumed by it. The smell of ozone and burned code filled his nostrils, burning his lungs with each ragged breath. The air shimmered with energy, scorching the ground, twisting fire and shadow into a chaotic dance of destruction.
Vega's glyph-fire flared, stabilized, and rose into a coherent storm of blazing runes that sliced through any remaining Shade, annihilating them with precise, burning arcs. Kaelith's final arrow struck with deadly accuracy, hitting a residual shadow that lingered too long, making it dissipate with a hiss like steam over metal.
Erevan stumbled to one knee, chest heaving, vision swimming, shards of pain still lancing through his body. His shard hummed faintly, worn and raw. Sir Quacksalot perched on his shoulder, quacking triumphantly as if claiming responsibility for the victory. Erevan managed a weak laugh. "Yeah, MVP. Don't let it go to your head."
Kaelith grabbed him firmly, shaking him slightly, eyes blazing with relief and frustration. "You absolute lunatic! You're killing yourself for everyone else!"
Erevan coughed, a thin smear of blood tracing along his jaw. "Technically, I'm killing shadows. There's a difference."
Vega approached slowly, still flickering with residual instability, eyes wide and glowing with awe. "No one else could have done that. You're more than an anomaly, Erevan. You're… a catalyst."
Erevan blinked, chest still burning. "Catalyst? Sounds like a fancy word for walking bug report."
Kaelith let out a short laugh, though her face remained tight with tension. "Maybe it means you're the first step. The one who forces the rest of us to act. Without you, we're all just waiting to be erased."
Erevan let himself lean back against the charred tree, shards of pain and adrenaline leaving his body trembling and raw. His chest heaved, but beneath it all, a small, stubborn spark of hope lingered. They had survived. They had fought back.
The firelight flickered over three figures, battered, burnt, and alive. Sir Quacksalot quacked once more, flaring his wings, a tiny guardian perched atop the shoulder of chaos. Vega's glitching form stabilized slightly, a faint smile flickering across their features. Kaelith finally allowed herself a small, weary smile, tension easing from her shoulders just enough to breathe.
Even in victory, the battlefield was scarred, the shadows of the Nullifiers' echoes twitching faintly at the edge of perception. The rift might be closed, but the system's gaze was far from broken. Erevan could feel it, a faint hum through the code in his chest, a reminder that survival was only temporary, and the real fight—the one that would demand everything they had—was still ahead.
Somewhere deep within the code, a faint, chilling ripple traveled like laughter. Kyros. He was still out there, still watching.
Erevan let the thought linger, shard throbbing painfully. He glanced at Vega and Kaelith, both alive, both defiant. "Fine," he muttered, voice hoarse, "guess we're officially recruiting. Let's just hope the next anomaly isn't allergic to ducks."
Sir Quacksalot flapped his wings as if in agreement, quacking his approval with dramatic ferocity, and for a heartbeat, even in the shadow of danger, the world felt slightly, impossibly theirs.