The three children watched in awe as the drowned planted the human-faced fish in neat rows. The fish, their front fins jutting outward, slowly grew and transformed—turning into more drowned. Pale, pearl eyes regarded the three children in silent curiosity.
"When is the party?" the new drowned asked, waiting for an answer that didn't come.
Marisol, Jaime, and Jimena—having finished their bitter cacao drinks—could only gawk at the strange scene, unsure what to say.
"They still need to complete the trials," said the first drowned, the one who had roasted the beans and given them the drinks. He now sipped from his own cup with calm leisure. "We'll have plenty of time to prepare."
The three children nodded quietly, watching as more human-faced fish were planted in the soft, damp soil.
"I see. Well, we'll probably run out of fertilizer before then anyway," another drowned muttered with a shrug. "The hummingbirds and axolotls can handle the rest with the remaining fish."
"Alright then, chosen ones," said the pleasant farmer drowned who had first greeted them. He stood, stretching, and helped them to their feet. "You've had enough rest. Best get going—Xochitonal is waiting."
He led them toward the lake, accompanied by a small group of drowned.
Xolo, Cimi, and Axochi—who had vanished at some point to the children's confusion—finally returned. Xolo stepped in front of Jimena with a sharp bark. Her wicked smile told Marisol all she needed to know about what they were planning next.
Jaime absently rubbed Cimi's head as the little creature chattered. The cacao had loosened their minds, softening the limits of what they could comprehend. Jaime's goofy grin, however, made Marisol wonder if it might cause problems later.
After a brief exchange of barks between Xolo and Jimena, the girl turned to them, her eyes blazing with violet fire.
"Let's make a Xoloitzcuintli," she said, spreading her arms wide to show how massive it would be.
Marisol smiled and stepped forward. The drowned took several steps back, giving them room and offering quiet blessings as they waved farewell.
The three children huddled together, letting their guides lead the way. Xolo erupted in violet flame; obsidian poured forth from a core deep within their hearts—the space once occupied by burden now transformed into something divine.
A great sphere of obsidian surrounded Xolo, shaping itself into a colossal head with eyes of violet fire. Jimena followed, an inferno blazing around her before being sealed in obsidian. It pulsed with power—becoming the heart of the great construct.
Marisol and Jaime formed the legs, guided by their companions. Six minds worked as one—a strenuous effort, executed in calm unity.
The giant obsidian Xoloitzcuintli rose, each step thunderous, its heart beating like a violet furnace.
After the obsidian construct took shape, Axochi—who had returned wordlessly—curled inside Marisol chest. The small obsidian dome flaring with energy. A whirlpool formed around Marisol, spiraling faster until it surged to envelop the obsidian heart of the construct. Steam hissed as water quenched the rising heat, then exhaled through the construct's obsidian mouth and snout.
Like a living being of black glass and flame, the obsidian Xoloitzcuintli stirred—its body shifting with instinctive motion.
At first, the back legs Jaime had shaped wobbled with every uncertain step. But then Cimi shrieked—a high, chittering sound that sent a pulse through the construct. The legs steadied at once.
Marisol chuckled softly but refocused as they stepped deeper into the lake. The giant obsidian Xoloitzcuintli moved with surprising grace through the water, guided by Marisol's steady power. The sacred lake lent her strength now that Axochi was fully awake.
She centered her thoughts, breathing in rhythm with the flow of the current. Their bond deepened, and she allowed herself to fade into the background, letting Axochi take the reins of her body. The water responded immediately, parting and carrying them forward.
Axolotls hummed softly as they passed, their song resonating like ripples through the deep. Human-faced fish waved their fins as they splashed over the gentle waves. The song of Chalchaxochimalli thrummed faintly in the water—its rhythm pulsing through the jade veins that cooled the construct's violet fire. Steam burst from the Xoloitzcuintli's snout in steady exhalations.
They moved swiftly—leaving the shore behind in the blink of an eye.
Near the lake's center, they saw it: an enormous iguana sprawled across a rocky island. Its massive body overflowed the stone, part of it submerged in the sacred waters.
A strange weariness washed over the children at the sight. They had come so far, through wonders and terrors alike—journeys that felt like years, though blurred in memory into mere weeks.
Then the creature opened its eyes. Twin orbs of jade-green light pierced through the mist. It roared—a sound older than words, one whispered only in the stories of the eldest elders. Tales of ancient beasts that had once guarded the underworld's gates.
The air vibrated with power. The wind carried the murmured tones of gods, singing the creature's name.
Xochitonal rose. Its scales shimmered with blue-green light, each movement dripping with divine weight. Its claws crushed stone to sand. Then, with a thunderous lunge, it dove into the lake—its massive body slicing through the water like a serpent reborn.
In an instant, its speed doubled.
A maw full of razor-sharp teeth opened wide—rushing toward the obsidian Xoloitzcuintli.
With terrifying force, Xochitonal struck like a thunderbolt. Its claws raked against the obsidian Xoloitzcuintli's sides, the sound a piercing shriek of glass under strain. Then its jaws snapped shut around the construct's neck—black glass cracked beneath the sheer force of its bite.
Jimena flared with power. Marisol followed a heartbeat later. Steam exploded outward, followed by a roaring pillar of violet flame that burst from the Xolo's obsidian maw.
Hissing, Xochitonal released its grip and dove beneath the surface, its massive body vanishing into the depths. The lake boiled in its wake. From below, it struck again—biting, tearing, testing the construct's strength.
The children urged their creation forward, their minds and hearts aligned. They needed ground—solid footing—to stand a chance.
When the rocky island came into view, Xochitonal struck once more. Its jaws clamped onto the Xolo's rear leg, dragging it backward with monstrous strength. Jaime's eyes flared gold as he pushed back with everything he had. The rear legs of the construct glowed like molten sunlight—then kicked.
The blow landed squarely against the iguana's snout, shattering teeth and sending ripples through the lake. The obsidian Xolo surged forward, using the momentum to leap onto the rocky island.
Xochitonal circled below, a shadow of jade and blue beneath the waves. Its eyes glimmered from the depths—watching, waiting. Too clever to strike head-on.
Jimena would not wait either. Her aura ignited, violet and furious. Jaime's golden power intertwined with Marisol's cool, steady flow. The obsidian Xolo's heart pulsed with divine rhythm as they lunged again—this time toward the circling predator.
The water erupted as Xochitonal rose, roaring in fury at the unexpected attack. Its claws raked across the construct's flanks—sparks screeched off obsidian, but the shell held.
A second blast of fire spewed from the Xolo's jaws—this one pure, blinding heat. It struck Xochitonal square in the back, scorching from spine to tail-tip. The beast shrieked, twisting violently, snapping at anything it could reach in blind agony.
Its jaws clamped around the Xolo's front leg, and the two titans wrestled—water, steam, and flame colliding in chaotic fury.
Finally, another roar of fire burst forth, driving Xochitonal back. Wounded and furious, the ancient beast fled beneath the lake's surface, vanishing into the deep with a final echoing bellow.
Inside the construct, the three children gasped for air. Their energy had been wrung dry—every drop of divine power poured into the fight. Violet fire flickered wildly, threatening to consume the construct from within.
Only the sacred waters of the lake saved them. Cool waves flowed over the obsidian shell, soothing its surface, keeping Jimena from burning herself alive in her own inferno.
The lake exhaled steam—quiet now. The children's hands trembled, but they were still alive.
For the first time since the fight began, the silence felt heavier than the roar.
They pressed on, hastily repairing the shattered front paw of the obsidian Xoloitzcuintli. Steam veiled them in a thick mist, the air trembling from the construct's overheated core. The obsidian shell hissed with each movement, violet fire seeping through cracks that glowed like veins of magma.
Marisol tried to push her energy forward, but agony struck through her chest—sharp, piercing. Axochi struggled to hold her body's mind together, his gentle song dim. She sank inward, folding into herself as her strength failed. Axochi took the reins, guiding her sleeping mind. Their heartbeats merged into one—slow, steady, and rhythmic as the tide.
Jaime and Cimi fared better. Golden power surged through the Xolo's rear legs, kicking against the current with immense force. Each strike sent ripples through the sacred waters as the construct lunged forward—its obsidian body streaking toward the far side of the lake.
Ahead, the surface churned. The flow of the water pulled toward something vast, unseen. The closer they drew, the louder it became—until they saw it.
A massive waterfall.
The entire lake poured toward it, a roaring descent into darkness. The sound shook their bones. Yet the true terror came not from the fall—but from what lurked beneath.
A shadow stirred. Enormous. Ancient.
Before they could react, it rose—a colossal form surging from the depths, teeth flashing like obsidian knives. Xochitonal struck again, claws and jaws tearing into the weakened construct with primal fury.
The impact was devastating. Obsidian splintered. Steam burst outward as the violet core flared and dimmed. The construct's form twisted under the assault, its limbs snapping like black glass under the waves.
Jimena screamed, pouring every last ember of her power into holding the construct together. Jaime followed, his golden energy wrapping around the crumbling frame.
They were losing.
With one final strike, Xochitonal's jaws clamped down—ripping the obsidian xoloitzcuintli apart. The mangled remains of the construct were cast into the torrent, carried helplessly toward the roaring edge of the falls.
And yet—through the chaos, through the pain—Jaime's light refused to fade.
The obsidian heart still beat.
Its shattered form held together by threads of gold.