The assault began in whispers.
Mira's illusions bloomed first—ghostly raiders cresting the eastern ridge, twenty strong, roaring challenges into the bone fields. Violet fire arced through the air, bursting against totems in strobing crimson light.
SFX: FWOOOM—CRACK—
Fang horns answered immediately.
SFX: BWAAAH—BWAAAH—
Boots thundered as the main guard force—fifteen berserkers and three shamans—poured toward the decoy, axes raised, rage-wards blazing. The eastern approach erupted into chaos.
The western flank fell quiet.
Levi moved.
Shadows swallowed the trio as they slipped into the bone trenches, deeper than any veil Mira could weave alone. The air reeked of marrow and rust. Skulls crunched underfoot—but softly, smothered by Levi's will.
They scaled the spire's base beneath secondary distortions: heat-haze ripples that bent light and sound. Two sentries dozed at the lower gate, tusk-helms tilted low.
They never woke.
SFX: THIK—SHRK—
Levi's spear took the first through the eye slit—silent, surgical. Aria's dagger slid into the second's throat before a breath escaped. Blood soaked into bone.
Quick harvests—measured. Essence sipped, not torn. Enough to steady his core without waking the wards.
Inside, the spiral ramp rose—carved from the spire's blackened bone-core, wide enough for three. Red lanterns swayed from chains of vertebrae.
SFX: CREAK… CREAK…
Distant roars echoed from the eastern fight. Mira's phantoms were holding.
For now.
A lone shaman waited on the fifth landing, channeling rage into banners stitched from skin. Aria pulsed her dagger.
SFX: HUM—CRACK—
The script shattered.
Levi shadow-stepped behind him and harvested before the body hit stone. Richer essence flooded in—shamanic fury threading through him like hot iron.
Then—
Six elites rounded the ramp below.
Bigger. Broader. Tusks capped in blood-iron.
They froze at the sight of corpses.
One bellowed.
SFX: ROOOAAARR—
The spire woke.
Horns blared inside now. Boots thundered from above and below. Mira cursed, abandoning subtlety as combat illusions exploded outward—dozens of Levis, Arias, and Miras flickering into existence.
Levi stepped forward.
The spiral turned into a slaughterhouse.
Axes scraped walls, spraying bone shards. There was barely room to breathe. Levi's fused skills unfolded like dark wings—
SFX: WHOOM—CLANG—RIP—
Shadow-step blinked him through the press.
Iron-veil turned aside a tusk-thrust meant to gut him.
Blade-dance multiplied his strikes—haft spinning, edge biting deep.
He harvested mid-fight now.
Shadows lanced into wounded berserkers, drinking essence while they still roared. One elite drove him back, axe crashing against his guard.
Pain flared across his ribs.
Shallow. Real.
Kargan surged.
Blood.
Take.
Levi let it in.
He swept low, took the legs, rose inside the guard—and tore the soul free.
SFX: RIIIP—SCREAM—
Crimson threads unraveled in the air. The body collapsed like a felled tree.
The others hesitated.
A heartbeat.
Enough.
Mira's bolts punched through two more. Aria crippled a third with precise tendon cuts. Levi finished the rest—efficient, merciless. Essence flooded him in waves. Wounds knit almost instantly.
Then—
Something broke inside him.
These weren't just enemies.
They were Kargan's.
Armor rune-marks identical. Roars with the same cadence. The same brutal pride.
Memories slammed into Levi's mind.
An arena of bone and fire.
Kargan—masked, towering—laughing as he crushed rivals.
Clansmen chanting his name.
Then—
A tent at the edge of camp.
A girl-child with white hair like frozen flame, tugging at greaves too big for her hands.
"Papa, tell the story again. The drake one."
Her laugh—clear, fearless.
Levi staggered.
The spear clattered against the wall.
The laughter echoed—braided with Kargan's pride and grief.
She had died in a Protocol raid cycles later.
The rage had never cooled.
Aria caught his arm. "Levi?"
He steadied himself. Gently pulled free. "I'm fine."
The memory lingered like smoke.
More horns below.
SFX: BWAAAH—BWAAAH—
Time was thinning.
They ran.
Three levels fell in brutal bursts. Mira's illusions bought seconds. Aria shattered wards. Levi reaped.
At last—
The shrine.
Open to the updraft. Ringed by skull altars. Banners snapping violently.
And at the center—
The mask.
Dragon-skull forged from obsidian alloy, runes drinking crimson light. Great horns swept back, cruel and regal. Fangs sharp enough to draw blood from breath. From crown and sides spilled a mane of white, ethereal flame—alive, roaring without sound.
Kargan no longer whispered.
He demanded.
Mine.
Wear me.
Complete.
Two guardians charged.
Levi met them alone.
The fight was brief. Ritualistic.
He let the first strike graze him—pain sharpening focus—then dismantled them with precision born of mastery and rising lust. Harvests came swift and total.
Silence fell.
Wind howled.
Levi stepped to the pedestal.
His hand closed around the mask.
Cold.
Then warm.
Recognition.
Runes flared violet-black as Kargan's fragmented soul resonated. Levi lifted it.
The mask settled onto his face as if it had waited centuries.
Vision sharpened. Contrast deepened. White flame spilled down his back—weightless, alive.
Power surged.
Not just strength.
Presence.
Kargan's voice settled—not roar, not whisper.
We are whole.
Levi turned.
Aria stared—awed, uneasy. The mask framed his already perfect features in demonic majesty, eyes burning like slits of hellfire.
Mira let out a low whistle. "You look like the end of something."
Levi flexed his hand. Shadows answered thicker. The spear hummed harmony.
Below—
SFX: BOOTS—METAL—ROARS—
"Time to leave," Levi said.
His voice was deeper now. Layered. Two wills braided as one.
They fled south as planned. Levi struck a support pillar on the descent—
SFX: CRACK—ROAR—
The spire screamed. Upper levels sheared away in a thunder of bone and dust.
They vanished into the border dark as horns wailed behind them.
The Black Fangs had lost a relic.
Levi had gained a face.
And deep in the Abyss—
Something ancient stirred.
Hungry.
Aware.