With gritted teeth and fists balled tight, Naereah lunged toward Annalise. She clawed at the air, desperate to scrape, gouge, and score the Seer's unblemished complexion. But her efforts were in vain. No matter how desperately she dragged herself forward, the Seer remained forever out of reach. Her vision blurred. Her head grew light. She collapsed, the chain at her collar rattling against the marble of the Temple's inner sanctum. Gripping the cold, hard chain, she heaved with all her might, her bare feet skidding against the smooth marble. It was pathetic; she was pathetic. But still, she would not surrender—she had done enough of that to last too many lifetimes.

'Liar!' she wheezed, her feet giving way as she landed hard on the floor. Rising to her knees, she took hold of the chain once more and continued to pull, her palms throbbing with bone-aching pain. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her limbs trembling under the weight of exhaustion.

'You're making this so much more unpleasant than it has to be,' Annalise sighed, taking a hurried step backward as Naereah clawed for her again.

'Liar!' Naereah croaked once more, the collar tight around her neck choking the word to a rasp. 'I trusted you!' she gasped as she slumped to her knees, her vision clouded by tears.

'You did,' Annalise whispered, her voice almost motherly, crouching to Naereah's level and holding her lightless gaze. 'You should know, this isn't personal.'

'Then why?' Naereah shrieked, her tone raw, breaking with despair. She trembled. Her shoulders slumped, head bowed low as her tears spattered atop the marble tiles. 'Why?'

'Ad maiorem Dea gloriam,' Shar intoned, her voice hushed in solemn reverence, her footsteps muted as she entered the inner sanctum. 'For the greater glory of the goddess,' Shar repeated in the common tongue. 'You should feel honoured.'

'You do it then!' Naereah spat, her tone dripping with venom and despair. 'If it's such an honour, you do it! You be chained like an animal—sacrifice your own damned life!' she cried, tears rolling down her cheeks.

She wiped her eyes dry with her sleeve, then gripped the chain and yanked back, the metal clanging against the ground with each heaving motion.

'We each serve the lady in our own way,' Shar muttered.

'And if you promise not to run, I'll remove the chain,' Annalise added, causing Naereah to cease her struggle and glare into her eyes.

'I swear,' Naereah said quickly, her pitch-black eyes narrowing as she peered into the wily blue of Annalise's gaze.

Annalise waved her palm. With a hollow clank, the collar unlatched, the iron snare falling to the ground like a severed shackle. For a moment, all held still. Naereah exchanged a restless glance with her captors.

Then she moved.

On her hands and feet, she scrambled toward the exit—an ivory, arched opening leading to tunnels branching through the temple. She pushed herself to her feet, the passage's turn within reach—then the world tilted. Her feet left the ground, her body weightless and flailing, legs kicking into nothing.

'No!' Naereah wailed, her scream closer to a pike-pierced swine than any sound from sapient lips. 'Let me go!' she howled as she was wrenched back, her body dragging toward the chain, the iron collar clamping tight across her throat.

'There, now we're both liars, aren't we?' Annalise said, her tone rich with playful satisfaction, as though triumphant in a contest of childhood play.

But it was no game to Naereah. Having just gained the will to defy her slavers, she would not—could not—let it be for nothing.

He wouldn't give up! she thought, the memory of Havoc's battle against the Abominable Spirit's overwhelming might replaying in her mind.

'He would, actually,' the Seer replied to Naereah's unspoken resolve. 'When there's no hope—no moves left to play, he wouldn't needlessly struggle.' Annalise crouched slightly, her treacherous, ocean-blue eyes locking onto Naereah's as she smiled sweetly. 'Sweetie, that's where you are. You have no moves left. Don't make this more painful than it has to be.'

'Just tell me why—why me? Why did you choose me for this?' Naereah sobbed, her gaze cast downward, her eyes swimming, drowned in fresh tears pattering the ground like rain—grey clouds abound.

'Why not?' Shar spat. 'Why shouldn't it be you? Would you have preferred to die with the others? Or maybe like the nobles you helped kill?' She stooped down, gripping Naereah's face between her vice-like fingers, lifting her chin to meet her steely gaze.

'You're a hypocrite,' Shar hissed, forcing Naereah's face to the floor. Cold marble bit into her cheek, white-hot sparks bursting across her vision. 'Everyone else can suffer and die, and that is just the way things are? But when it is your turn, that is when life becomes cruel?' Her grip tightened in Naereah's alabaster hair, her lips pressing close to her ear.

'Life is cruel—unbearably so. It is the strong preying on the weak, the hungry devouring the hungry. In this world, for something to grow, something else must shrink. What is given to one is seized from another.' Shar's breath came heavy, her voice cracking with barely restrained sorrow.

'It cannot go on like this. That is why we do what we must. That is why—frightened and alone—this is where you'll end.' She released her grip on Naereah's hair, seized her shoulders, and hauled her upright. 'But take heart; from your field of suffering, the hope of a gentler world will bloom.'

Annalise stepped forward, her palm clasping Shar's shoulder as she drew her to her feet.

'That's enough,' Annalise whispered as she moved toward Naereah, stooping low to embrace her.

'No!' Naereah murmured as she struggled against the Seer's embrace. 'Get—get off me,' she said weakly, her voice muffled by the silken fabric of Annalise's dress as the Seer pressed her face into her bosom.

'Shush now,' Annalise sighed, her tone gentle and warm even as Naereah continued to struggle. 'It'll all be over soon—just a bad dream, forgotten in the morning. When the day-sun rises, you'll be at peace—forever at peace.'

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Beaten and broken, Naereah sank to the floor, her body trembling as she held back heavy sobs. Her world collapsed around her, hope smothered under its weight. Helpless, she lay still—lacking, as she always had, the strength to resist.

Then she rose.

Her trembling stilled as she wiped her face clean, her dark eyes locking onto the Seer's.

'He'll come for me,' her voice barely a whisper, she balled her hand into a fist, and inhaled deeply. 'He'll come for me, and you won't be able to stop him—nothing will stop him. He is my promised hero!'

'Sweetie, please. I made all that up—' Annalise started, her words cut short by the silencing swipe of Naereah's hand.

'No!' she bawled. 'I've watched him overcome monsters, and slaughter devils. He'll cut down whatever stands in his way. He's going to save me—and you're in his way. Unstoppable; inevitable Havoc! I only hope you're ready.'

Annalise clicked her tongue, exhaling sharply as she flicked her hands to her sides.

'I don't know why you have so much faith in the boy, but I'll heed your warning,' the Seer sighed. 'You heard her, make sure you're ready.'

At the Seer's words, Shar unsheathed the blade at her hip, and Myra stepped out from the shadows. Atop a ledge overhanding the circular chamber, she drew back the string of her bow, a bolt of lightning sparking across the arrow-rest.

'It's time,' Annalise proclaimed.

Blood-painted runes surrounded Naereah, ancient glyphs pulsing with an unnatural glow. As Annalise paced the circle, the Dungeon-Script flared to life, their scarlet radiance bleeding into the chamber's walls, drenching the sanctum in crimson light.

She sat cross-legged within the circle. From an emerald haze, reminiscent of the crimson smog of Naereah's storage Remnant, Annalise extracted a transparent orb. Within its glassy prison, a barbed, fleshy vine writhed. It slithered against its invisible barrier as though seeking escape.

The mist thickened, revealing Fragments and potions orbiting Annalise in a slow, mesmerizing dance. Finally, she unsealed a scroll. With a flick of her wrist, the paper unravelled from its cylindrical casing and hovered before her eyes, ancient script etching itself across the surface.

'Once I begin, nothing can stop it—not until it's done,' Annalise warned. 'Do not allow disturbances. There'll be no second chances—at least, not any more.'

With her instructions given, the Seer began to chant. The potions circling her simmered, boiling within their vials. Thick tendrils of coloured mist coiled above, weaving into a luminous ring.

****

Havoc felt it before he saw it—a profane iniquity clinging to the stale temple air, choking his breaths, and surging dread through his veins with each staggered beat of his heart. Still, he pressed on. His boots fell heavy upon the white marble, the passage stretching endlessly ahead. Torches flared to life in the walls as he passed, the Temple itself illuminating his path.

'They're close!' Anton growled, keeping pace at his side, Franklin trailing just behind. 'She will undo this great wrong—no matter the price.' His breath came heavy, his arms swinging wildly.

Believe what you want—just stay out of my way.

Havoc quickened his stride, his pulse hammering as the passage's end came into view—bathed in a crimson glow.

A golden light flashed in his periphery. Without hesitation, he dove aside—forked lightning crackling against the ground where he had stood moments before.

The Thirsty Strike was already in his grip. He slashed the air, a severing wave cleaving toward an overhanging ledge, carving through marble pillars like butter beneath a heated blade.

Stone rained down as Havoc rolled to his feet. No sooner had he stood than Shar descended upon him, her curved blade flashing for his throat. He barely raised his guard in time. Steel met steel, the force of her strike reverberating through his bones.

'Impressive,' she murmured, landing gracefully as her attack was rebuffed. 'I had hoped to end this in a single blow, but—'

Before she could finish, Havoc surged forward, the winds howling around him as his Anchor took hold of her power. Shar clicked her tongue in irritation, meeting his charge without hesitation—her blade moving like liquid silver, effortlessly turning aside his whirling strikes.

****

Anton stared, mouth agape, as Havoc and Shar blurred across the vast sanctum—two opposing storms clashing with whirlwinds of steel and killing intent. They leapt from ground to ledge, ceiling to wall, gravity reduced to nothing more than a suggestion.

The sanctum trembled. Steel clashed against steel, a shrill symphony of battle echoing through the chamber. Marble pillars shattered like glass, their ruins exploding into jagged debris as blades carved through stone.

'Do not interfere,' Myra warned, her voice cutting through the chaos like a blade.

Anton barely turned before he saw it—lightning crackling from her bowstring, a golden bolt aimed squarely at his chest.

'I don't want to fight,' Anton said, his tone gentle but unyielding. 'Put your weapon down.'

'I don't want to fight either,' Myra replied, her voice a mirror of his resolve. 'But I will not stray from the Seer's design.'

His jaw tightened. 'You're outmatched, and you're outnumbered. Surrender—just surrender!'

A sudden roar of air.

Anton threw himself backward as Shar crashed between them—ripped from the sky by the crushing force of Havoc's kick to her gut.

She staggered upright, legs trembling beneath her. A growl rumbled from her throat. She spat blood onto the floor, then whipped her blade above her head—just in time.

Steel met steel.

Havoc came down like a hammer, his sword cleaving toward her skull as he hurled himself from the ceiling. Shar's arms shook beneath the impact, but she held firm.

'I'm taking the girl!' Havoc snarled.

Shar pushed back with a vicious swipe, forcing him to drop to the ground in a crouch.

Chained within the heart of a swirling storm of radiant colour, Naereah screamed, but no sound escaped. The air rippled like water as she pounded against the unseen barrier, her body wracked with desperate fury.

'Without the Seer, you can't hope to stand against us,' Anton growled. 'You shouldn't even want to—you should be on our side. We just want to save lives.'

'Enough, you babbling fool!' Franklin hissed, stepping forward, breaking from Anton's side. He came to a halt beside Myra and Shar, his glare searing into Anton.

'That I've had to endure your self-righteous delusions for days on end!' He spat the words, his lips curling in disgust. He paused. Then, slowly, his scorn deepened into something colder. 'They're dead. Nothing can change that. And I wouldn't have it any other way.'

His fingers twitched. His breath came steady. Then, his lips curved into a slow smile.

'Their deaths brought me to the queen,' he murmured. 'And I will serve her with yours.'

Within the swirling radiance, Annalise turned her head slightly, a smile dancing at her lips. She continued to chant, her voice silent, yet woven into the air.

Franklin's gaze gleamed as he locked onto Anton.

'You mentioned something about being outnumbered,' he mused, his tone slick with arrogance. 'You have no idea just how right you are.'

A mirror shimmered into his grip. With a slow, deliberate motion, he raised it toward Shar. As the glass caught her reflection, her image burned into its surface—seared into its very essence. Then, violently, he smashed the mirror against the floor.

Shards sprayed across the sanctum, but they did not scatter. Instead, they shimmered, twisting, pulling toward one another in a rippling mass. The fragments melted together, the glow intensifying—until another Shar stood beside the first, identical in every way.

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