Prime's body thrashed violently, his form bending under the strain of two wills locked in combat. Ooze poured from his chest and mouth, spreading across the ground like liquid shadow, sprouting arms and jagged blades. The others stood their ground, but even together, the weight of what they faced pressed down like a mountain.
"This isn't Prime anymore," Volcan muttered, fists tightening. "It's something else."
"No," Tidal countered, water swirling at his command. "Prime's still in there. We just have to buy him time."
The monstrous form let out a distorted roar — EXE's voice layered with Prime's own, twisted in agony. Tendrils lashed out, knocking Omega to the ground, scraping deep gouges into the earth. Typhoon dove in, wind screaming behind him, cutting through the ooze — but it only reformed, snapping back like a serpent.
---
Inside Prime's mind, the battlefield stretched infinite — an endless void where even sound seemed to echo too long. EXE loomed, towering and grotesque, his body made of pure white ooze streaked with black lightning. Antlers curved upward like a crown of cruelty, his eyes empty circles filled only with malice.
"Do you feel it, Prime?" EXE's voice rattled the void. "The weakness. The futility. Every strike you make against me only feeds me. You are nothing without me."
Prime stood firm, portals sparking alive in his hands, blades of shifting light. His voice was low but steady. "I don't need you. I never did."
EXE's laughter was jagged and cruel. "Then why am I here? Why did your body welcome me? Because deep down… you wanted power. And I am power."
They clashed. EXE's arms became scythes, striking like thunder, while Prime darted through his own portals, slicing back with precision. Each hit Prime landed tore chunks of ooze away — but the fragments slithered back, reforming EXE bigger, stronger, more unrelenting.
"You cannot cut shadow," EXE hissed. "You cannot kill hunger."
---
Outside, the crew battled for survival. Stream summoned towering waves to pin EXE down, Omega fired imbued arrows into the ooze, while Volcan turned the earth itself into molten chains. Typhoon sliced through the storm he conjured, striking fast enough to split the air.
But still, EXE fought like a storm given flesh. Every strike they landed, the ooze twisted, adapted, retaliated.
"Hold him!" Omega roared, another spear lancing across the battlefield. "Prime's still fighting inside!"
Stream bared his teeth. "Then he'd better win fast — because out here, we're running out of ground to stand on!"
---
Inside, Prime fell hard, EXE's claws ripping across his chest. Ooze wrapped around his limbs like chains, dragging him down.
"You belong to me," EXE growled, pressing a hand against Prime's face. "Stop fighting it. Stop resisting."
For a moment, the void flickered. Prime saw glimpses — his friends outside, bleeding, screaming, refusing to give up even against this nightmare. He saw Omega dragging himself back to his feet despite shattered armor. He saw Stream's water breaking into mist, reshaping again. He saw Volcan bracing the ground itself, Typhoon darting in reckless defiance.
"…They're still fighting," Prime whispered, struggling against the chains.
"And they will die for you," EXE spat.
"No." Prime's voice hardened, quiet but unshakable. "They fight with me. Always."
The chains cracked. Portals flared, brighter than ever. Prime's body in the void surged with light as he broke free, blades in hand once more.
EXE reeled, for the first time stumbling back. His voice warped into a hiss.
"Y̷o̷u̷ ̷c̴a̷n̶'̷t̸ ̵k̷e̶e̵p̸ ̶m̷e̴ ̷l̵o̶c̸k̸e̶d̸ ̴a̷w̸a̴y̵…̶"
Prime's portals closed in around him like a cage of light. "Then I'll chain you here. Until I say otherwise."
---
Outside, the ooze screeched one last time, convulsing, thrashing — then collapsed, retracting into Prime's chest as he fell limp to the ground.
Silence. The crew stood breathing hard, weapons ready, waiting for the next wave.
Prime lay still, face pale, chest rising slow but steady.
Omega stepped forward, eyes narrowing. "…Is it, over?"
Stream glanced at the
black scorch marks the ooze left behind. "...i trust him enough to know that it is over."
Exe sighed with anger "agh.... Then so be it."
The battlefield was silent. Prime's body lay broken in the dirt, chest rising shallow, while the others stood guard in grim silence. They had fought the ooze, chained it back inside him, but they all knew it wasn't gone. It was waiting.
The air shifted. A chill slithered across their skin. Prime's eyes snapped open — but they weren't his eyes. They were hollow circles, outlined in black.
The ooze surged out like a tidal wave, but this time it didn't simply engulf him. It merged. The antlers folded into his form, the lightning streaks etched themselves into his skin, and for the first time, Prime did not resist.
He stood, body glowing white and black in sharp contrast, portals sparking in one hand, ooze forming blades in the other. His voice was layered, distorted, both his and EXE's at once.
"I…" he breathed, steady and controlled.
"…am Primexe."
The others froze. Not Prime. Not EXE. Something new.
The monster's wild malice was gone, replaced by a cold, balanced aura. The ooze no longer dripped like hunger — it coiled, controlled, as if it finally had purpose.
EXE's voice echoed in his head: You are worthy. My rage, your will — one being.
Prime's thoughts answered: Then you are no longer my curse. You are my weapon.
Outside, his stance shifted. He was calm. Too calm. Volcan felt the weight in his chest; Omega raised his hand, unsure whether to prepare a blast or lower it.
"Prime?" Stream asked carefully.
Primexe turned, hollow eyes softening just a fraction. "…Still me." His voice hummed like two tones in harmony. "But more."
He raised a hand. Portals spun into existence with perfect precision, the ooze reshaping into weapons so sharp they hummed against the air. He opened his other palm — light and darkness collided, a surge of raw power that rattled the ground itself.
For the first time, the crew felt not fear… but awe.
They were no longer fighting to keep Prime alive. They were standing before something new. Something terrifying. Something necessary.
The silent one had fused with the screaming terror — and in doing so, he had forged himself into a being neither wholly light nor shadow.
The world would come to know that day as the birth of a force that defied definition.
The birth of Primexe.