"CONTACT!"

The cry had come from Malak, who's Drytchling squad were ready and poised at the edge of their camp, limbs splitting and sharpening into bladed tips as they faced down the shadow that was approaching from their rear.

Meanwhile, Tara and Klax readied themselves. They'd slain Greycloak before. One more wouldn't even make them break a sweat.

But Lamphrey's entire demoanor seemed to change. In the last few moments, her eyes had widened, she'd taken an intake of breath, and whispered something which the Hopla barely heard:

"…so that is the result. That is His choice."

Fauna cradled her head in her hands. Though most of her wounds weren't severe, she was looking as though she was about to leave this world behind.

"Listen," she muttered to Fauna. "Whatever may come, know that I did everything I did for the world that the Archon – that Ethan - has a chance to make."

The Hopla Magi shook her head at the Oneiromancer's cryptic words.

"For once just tell me what you're talking about!"

Behind, a pair of silver eyes glowed in the dark. Eyes that appraised them as prey. The Drytchling's readied their [Thorn Storm] payloads.

"All of it, was for all of you," Lamphrey groaned as she tried to stand. "Remember…that."

The Drytchlings launched their payload, each one thrusting out their arms like cannons which then spit out a bombardment of thorns. The eyes of the invader disappeared as the projectiles hissed through the air and presumably cut through him.

But Fauna was not even paying attention to this fight.

Instead, something was happening in her mind.

She only now realized what the strange feeling was she'd felt before. As Lamhrey's arm had gripped hers, she'd assumed that the Magi was simply attempting to show that she was indeed a creature with emotions just like the rest of them.

But now the Hopla saw the tell-tale signs of Oneiromancy magic hat had bobbed and weaved between he hairs on her arms.

Lamphrey had been draining her of the tiny reserves of magical Essence she had left.

Because there was one more spell the Tialax needed to cast.

A silver blade came spinning out from the darkness behind the team. Malak ordered his Drytchlings to erect a barrier of thorns but the entire defending party gasped as the blade merely circumvented the grasping plants like it had a mind of its own.

They knew what that meant. [Blade Magnetism]. A skill which the Archon had taken from a very specific Greycloak.

A Greycloak to had only ever taught it to a single pupil.

"I am sorry," Lamphrey murmured. "This is not what I saw. But it is what I have chosen."

Fauna shifted focus. Right now, it seemed that the entire world was encased in molasses. Everything seemed to slow, and the Hopla's eyes narrowed to tunnel vision as she turned and saw the target the attacker's blade was headed for.

Mara the Hopla stood rigid in shock as Tara and Klax tried to grab the thing only to have it spin out of their reach.

And before Fauna could try anything, Lamphrey grabbed her arm and dug her nails into her soft, furry flesh.

"Because the future is not for us, Fauna the Hopla."

Mara's minotaur defenders rushed to stop the blade. Once again, it simply twirled out of the way of their massive hands.

"MARA!"

At Fauna's scream the little Hopla child didn't move. Her ees widened as she saw her death approaching.

But like the whisper of a ghost in her ear, Fauna did not hear the child cry out.

Instead, she heard Lamphrey's final words. Words spoken only for her:

"The future is for them."

It all became so clear in the moment Lamphrey then let go of Fauna's arm and did what she had planned to do since first she walked back down the steps to Sanctum.

It all become so clear – Lamphrey's fascination with Mara since they'd been reunited. Her intense stares at the girl which Fauna had assumed was simply professional curiosity. And her downtrodden, almost passive nature ever since they'd joined the battle.

She'd said that she'd done everything for the good of the future.

And now, Fauna knew exactly what she meant.

The blade arced towards Mara, who already knew that there was no way she could avoid its deadly trajectory. Still, she fell to the ground in a duck, trying to draw upon what tiny reserves to magic she had to summon up even a light firebolt to knock the weapon away.

But only a few light sparks flew from her fingers.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Tara and Klax tried to rush to her defense. The Drytchlings under Malak tried to reach her through [Root March].

But none of them were fast enough to cover the ground.

Two seconds passed. The blade did one final spin in the air and then – it connected.

The impact echoed through the entire cavern. But no scream issued from the throat of the Hybrid whose heart was pierced by the blade.

Fauna looked down to see that Lamphrey had gone, replaced by noneother than Mara.

Which meant…

"LAMPHREY!"

The Tialax stood where Mara once had, managing to deactivate her [Mindshift] skill in the few seconds after the blade found its mark – though not the mark its owner had intended.

She did not cast her eyes down to see the sword that had embedded itself into her heart, piercing through her already charred scales and cutting off the small remains of oxygen she had. Instead, she looked upon the staring faces of the hybrid warriors all around her, sweeping the room to eventually rest her eyes on the forms of Fauna and Mara at the edge of their camp.

And then, with another sad smile, she slumped to the ground and let the pain wash over her.

The response from the team was not immediate. Everyone simply stared in disbelief until a silent, primal rage took over.- rage directed at the young boy who had appeared from out of the darkness with laughter on his lips.

"I – I – I did it!" the Greycloak yelped with manic joy, punching one fist in the air in victory. "I killed one of the Archons lieutenants! I slew a bastard hybrid! I – Sir Jory of the Greycloaks – I have –"

The boy didn't get a chance to continue his celebration. His voice was cut off by the howl of Klax as the Lycae leaped, claws aimed at the boy's throat. Jory just managed to [Blink] a few feet away, summon his blade right back to his hand, and meet Tara's duel knives as she launched herself at him, too.

The boy then cried out in pain as a thick stalk of thorns speared his right shoulder, causing his weapon-arm to go limp and his sword to tumble away into the darkness from whence he'd emerged.

While all this was happening, Fauna and Mara had barely even moved. They stared, mute, at the spot where Lamphrey lay, her purple blood pooling beneath her.

"Mi-Miss Lamphrey…" Mara finally sputtered, trying to crawl towards the fallen Tialax, trying to awaken any residual traces of healing magic she had left in her.

Fauna, however, stopped her. The Tialax's eyes were glazed over. Her heart, visible through her broken ribcage, had stopped beating moments ago.

She was gone.

"Little SHIT!" Tara yelped as she sliced through the Jory's cheek, giving him a deep gash that coated her knife in angel blood. "This time, we're gonna put you down for good!"

The Minxit raised her blades, twirled them before the boy's incredulous face, and then felt a sensation of air flashing behind her.

She turned just in time to block his returning blade, and managed to parry its strike and send it flying right into Klax's hand.

"FIEND!" the boy cried. "How dare you touch a Greycloak's weap-"

In the next instant Klax gripped the hilt and blade of the sword and tore it apart, throwing both pieces of it aside as he marched towards the boy.

"Y-you! Damn y-"

Tara shoved a blade in his mouth to shut him up. Meanwhile, the Drytchlings summoned another prison of thorns to restrain the child, keeping him locked in place for the Minxit to finish him off.

"Faun!" she yelled back before she did the deed. "Is – is she -?"

Fauna, by this time having crawled over to Lamphrey's body, barely even moved in response. She just gave a simple, tiny nod as she placed her hand on the fallen Magi's scaled hand.

And that was all Tara needed to see.

"Think you're a bigshot, do ya?" she hissed in the face of the boy as Klax came forward. He did not try and restrain her.

Jory grumbled something. In response, Tara shoved the blade deeper down his throat.

"Speak up," she hissed. "Cat got yer tongue? I can't hear ya."

"Stop."

That word was spoken by Fauna in the moment just before Tara was ready to split Jory's skull apart.

Everyone turned at the Hopla's tone. It was not sharp, or angry, or dejected. It was the tone of a warrior who was ready for all the suffering she'd seen to end.

"Faun, he – he deserves to die!" Tara yelped back, keeping her blade locked in the lad's mouth.

Fauna didn't have anything to say to that. In truth, she wasn't really thinking anymore. She simply cradled Lamphrey's soulless body in her hands as she cast her eyes over the team – seeing their broken home behind them.

And that word – stop – was all she could think to say.

She closed her eyes as Klax arrived at her side, placing his hand upon her shoulder. And strangely enough, it seemed more like he needed to be by her side more than she needed to be by his.

Tara turned back to her prey, ready to slice him open in spite of her comrade's plea.

But even her hand wavered. Because despite the desire for retribution that was welling up in her heart, even she was beginning to realize just how pointless all this death was.

"…there has to be something after," she whispered.

And there will be.

Tara blinked as a voice – powerful and primal – coursed through her mind. Beneath her, the child Greycloak's eyes widened, and the Minxit thought that the silver blood flowing down his mouth lost its glowing hue. It became dull, just like his eyes did.

She retracted her blade and found that the rest of the team were similarly entranced. Then, as one, they turned towards the seemingly impenetrable rock face.

With a series of cracks and booms that echoed through all of Sanctum, the lights between the stones died away and the entire wall was destroyed. No debris was sent their way, not a single stone tumbled down to crush them. Indeed, it was as though the rock face was simply deleted from existence.

And when it disappeared, the Hybrids saw what had become of their city.

It was still in ruins – everything they'd built was a shambles of stone and melted metal. But the darkness that had been there home was gone. The entire ceiling – the earth that had kept them safe from the outside – had been torn away by the sheer power of the Archon and Lightborn's battle. Now, the city was exposed to the surface world.

Up there, the Hybrids who'd managed to flee the destruction of their home looked down upon it from above. Children clung to their mothers tightly, their eyes fixed on the sight that they saw down there in the smoke of their once-homes.

But they did not cling in fear, or in anger.

Because what they saw was the form of the three-headed Archon emerging from the great hole he'd blasted in the center of their city. He flew up past them to Argwyll's skies, on a set of wings that burned with the strength of the sun itself, and the roar he launched from his throats was felt deep in the bones of all of them – young and old, furry and hairless, scarred and healed alike.

Down in the blasted remains of their home, Fauna clutched Lamphrey's inert body tightly and whispered to her of what was transpiring in the waking world.

"You said you wished you could have seen the new world we'd make," she told her. "Because you knew you wouldn't be here for it. But at the very least, you can see it's dawn, sis."

The Archon glided through the clouds of cheering Hybrids towards the city again, and stopped only as he approached his waiting team – those who had been with him since the start.

And only then did they see that he was carrying something in his mouth.

"N-no," young Jory whispered from behind. "NO! IT'S NOT POSSIBLE!"

The Hybrids ignored the boy. Their attention was fixed on the movement of their Archon as he took one step towards him and spat out his prey.

Artorious the Lightborn, Angel of Kaedmon, rolled across the floor, gasping for breath. A quick Appraisal told the Hybrids everything they needed to know:

Artorious, Angel of Kaedmon

LVL 0

Skills: NULL

It told them everything, but still they looked to Ethan to confirm it.

"This battle is over," he said. "We have won."

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