"Uncle Wolf…" Tessa's voice cracks, barely a whisper. Then it rises, raw and shaking. "I knew it… It's him—IT'S HIM!"

She takes a step forward, claws digging into the soil, fur bristling with fire that flares and dies in unsteady bursts. Her tail lashes wildly, eyes locked on the ghostly wolf like the rest of the world has fallen away.

The spectral wolf turns its head toward her, and for a moment—just a moment—the glow in its eyes flickers softer, like a memory surfacing. Then it fades back to that mournful, empty light.

I hover closer, spines trembling. "Tessa—hey—wait. What do you mean by him?"

Her breathing is ragged. "That howl. The way he stands. The scar on his left flank… that's him. That's my uncle. From my pack."

Morven steps beside me, gaze sharp. "Your uncle is dead, correct?"

"Yeah," she says, voice breaking. "He was. Until now."

I turn toward Morven, pulse kicking up in my chest. "Damnit, what do we do, Morv? We can't just attack Tessa's uncle like he's last week's trash monster."

Morven's eyes narrow, his expression unreadable. "And we definitely don't want to end up on Velith's bad side either."

Tessa steps forward, still trembling but trying to hold herself together. "It's fine…" Her voice shakes, but there's a strange steadiness behind it. "I—I understand. My uncle's wreaking havoc in this zone, and he doesn't look like himself right now."

I blink, caught off guard. "Tessa… that's surprisingly accepting?"

She exhales slowly, forcing her breathing to even out. "I already… kind of accepted that my pack isn't here anymore. Besides, I learned what hesitation costs. I need to decide quickly." Her eyes harden, the faint glow of fire lighting in them again. "But that doesn't mean I wouldn't try to slap some sense back into Uncle Wolf."

A grin creeps into my voice. "That's the Tessa I know. You being negative would be the end of the world."

She gives a short laugh, shaky but real. "Yeah… right."

Morven cuts in, ever the voice of reality. "As much as I'd hate to ruin this sentimental moment, we've got a situation. Like Tessa said, we shouldn't assume it's entirely mindless." He points forward, toward the spectral wolf's chest. "That thing embedded in its chest—does it look familiar to you?"

I narrow my senses, tracing its faint pulse of energy, and my spines bristle. "Shit. Is that your fragment, Morv?"

"Yes," he says flatly. "And by the looks of it, it's embedded deep. Wouldn't be the first time."

Thalyss swears, thorns rattling. "Damnit, really? That damn senile geezer of a tree never mentioned this shit."

Syralis folds her arms, her petals tightening with unease. "Big Sister Velith was right… that isn't natural. You think they are responsible for this?"

Thalyss glares toward the ghostly wolf, her vines tensing. "Yeah, no shit. Either way, we've got to take this damn mutt down first."

Morven folds his arms, calm but firm. "There are ways to take it down without putting it down entirely—"

Thalyss cuts in, voice sharp enough to slice through him. "Nah-uh. You don't get to decide here. That little shit killed many of us—too many. And I'm not about to sit back and let you ruin the only chance we've got to end it." She jabs a thorned finger toward him. "So yeah—stay in your own lane, outsiders."

Morven opens his mouth again, steady but insistent. "But we can—"

Thalyss exhales hard, cutting him off again. "Do whatever you want, but I'm taking that piece of shit down." She turns toward Syralis. "Let's go, Syralis."

Syralis hesitates for half a heartbeat, then nods once at us—a quiet, almost apologetic gesture—before following.

Thalyss burrows into the earth, crimson petals and thorned vines vanishing beneath the soil, the ground rippling toward the spectral wolf. Syralis sinks after her, light pink petals dimming into the dirt.

"Geez," I mutter, watching the trail of disturbed earth. "She's rude. We've gotta go before—"

Morven extends an arm, stopping me. "Be patient. This might be a good chance to analyze Tessa's uncle before we engage."

Tessa's claws dig into the soil, her voice trembling with barely contained tension. "What if they get hurt—"

Morven doesn't look at her. "Don't worry. They won't go down so easily.

Thalyss bursts from the soil in a rush of petals and dust, her vines lashing out. They shoot toward the wolf—but the moment they strike, they pass through its body like smoke.

The spectral wolf flickers, vanishing to the side before reappearing solid—its jaws clamping down on one of her trailing vines. He yanks hard.

Thalyss lets out a sharp grunt as the force lifts her off the ground, flinging her into the air. Before she can recover, the wolf releases a hollow, echoing bark—a shockwave of ghostly energy that ripples outward like a pressure wave.

Thalyss reacts in an instant, folding her petals around herself into a hardened shield. The shockwave slams into her midair, shattering loose thorns and petals, before she crashes down with a heavy thud that shakes the soil.

She unravels slowly, standing, but her balance is off—petals torn, her movement sluggish and uneven.

"Thalyss!" Syralis rushes forward, her roots gliding through the dirt. She kneels beside her sister, placing a glowing hand against Thalyss's arm. "Stay still—don't move!"

Thalyss exhales hard, spitting out a bit of crimson sap. "I'm fine—damn thing just hit harder than it looks."

I glance to the side. Morven stands perfectly still, eyes locked on the scene with a focus so sharp it's unsettling. His expression is calm, but the way his fingers twitch—subtle, deliberate—tells me he's analyzing every move, every flicker of that wolf's form.

Beside him, Tessa's the opposite—tense, restless, claws digging into the soil as her tail lashes. Her ears are flat, her breathing fast. Every time the wolf shifts, she flinches like she's fighting the urge to charge in.

"Easy," I murmur, trying to keep my voice steady. "Let them hold for now."

Tessa doesn't answer, eyes glued to the spectral figure. "I can't… I can't just watch him like that."

Morven's voice is low, even. "You must. For now." He doesn't look at her, but the weight in his tone leaves no room for argument.

Still, I can feel the heat rising off her. One more push, and she's going to snap.

"What do you make of it, Morven?" I ask quietly, watching the spectral wolf circle Thalyss.

Morven narrows his eyes, the faint glow in them pulsing. "I don't know. I can't deduce anything concrete. The fact that he's smarter—and stronger—than a typical spectral wolf is all we have. Too little data, too many variables."

I turn my gaze back to the battlefield. Thalyss has already pushed herself upright again, shaking off Syralis's hand. Her petals flutter once before she charges back in, fury in every step.

Syralis steps forward beside her, spreading her hands. A rush of petals—soft pink like cherry blossoms—erupts from her body, spiraling into a glittering storm. They twist around the spectral wolf, wrapping it in a blinding swirl of color.

The wolf snarls, disoriented, its form flickering wildly.

Thalyss takes the chance—sliding from the flank, she shoots out a volley of crimson thorns, each one glinting wet with sap. They slice through the air in quick succession, followed by thicker vines that whip out from the soil, dripping with the same red resin.

The wolf ignores the thorns, letting them pass through its half-ethereal body, but it doesn't see the trap. The vines follow right behind, flickering for a moment—then solidifying mid-phase. They smash into the wolf's side and coil tight, binding around its spectral frame.

The creature jerks and thrashes, snarling as the vines pulse and constrict.

The wolf jerks violently, and before Thalyss can tighten the snare further, shadows peel away from its body—spectral wolves, ghostly echoes clawing their way free from its form. They scatter like smoke given shape, each one lunging for her vines.

They tear into the bindings, snapping and biting, their fangs sinking into the living thorns. Thalyss snarls, twisting her arm. "Oh no you don't—"

Before they can pull her down, her vines constrict. The sap coating them flares with a sudden, violent hiss. A burst of heat—then fire. The red sap combusts, racing along the vines in a flash that engulfs the wolf and its spectral copies.

The flames sear across the clearing, and for a moment the false daylight glows orange. Tessa's uncle recoils, his transparent fur flickering and charring. The phantom wolves shriek, their bodies unraveling into ash and wisped smoke before fading entirely.

The attack hits hard—but it comes at a price. Thalyss's vines blacken at the tips, her hold weakening. The main body of the wolf thrashes, ripping free from her grasp with a guttural, spectral growl.

Thalyss recovers fast. She flicks another vine outward, snatching one of the retreating phantom stragglers midair. Her body splits open again—petals and thorns parting from head to torso—and she drags the struggling spirit in, shoving it inside before sealing herself shut once more.

When she turns back, breathing ragged but steady, Tessa's uncle shakes himself, burning remnants drifting from his form. He's hurt—flickering more than before—but still standing, still radiating that suffocating, mournful light.

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All his phantom doubles, though—they're gone. Burned away.

I watch the flames die down, scorched petals drifting through the air, and can't help blurting, "Man… a plant monster with fire magic? Isn't that kind of counterproductive?"

Morven doesn't take his eyes off the fight. "Combustible saps," he says evenly. "Not unheard of. But the combustion itself probably wasn't what she was aiming for."

I tilt my shell toward him. "Oh yeah? Then what was she aiming for?"

"Pressure," he replies. "She superheated the sap to increase the force in her vines. The fire's a side effect… though admittedly, a dramatic one."

Tessa exhales shakily beside me, eyes still fixed on her uncle. "Dramatic's one word for it."

I glance at the chaos ahead—Thalyss and Syralis holding their ground, barely, their petals dimming with exhaustion. "It seems like they've got it… Don't you think?"

Morven's eyes narrow, voice calm but edged. "I wouldn't be so sure. I've yet to see any reaction from the fragment itself." He pauses, watching the wolf shake off another barrage of thorns. "Besides, both of them are at their limit. We should help them."

"Right," I say, straightening in the air. "So what's the plan?"

Morven finally looks at me, glassy eyes flickering faintly violet. "Nur, you assist the sisters. Focus on restraining the wolf—whatever it takes to keep him grounded. Once he's pinned, I'll move in and extract the embedded gem."

Tessa steps forward, fire licking at her claws. "And what about me?"

"You're our strike option," Morven answers smoothly. "Make sure he stays down. If he's anything like what you think he is, he might sense something familiar in you—use it."

Tessa swallows hard, then nods. "Got it."

"Good," Morven says, his tone sharpening as he turns back toward the wolf. "Now let's go."

I float toward Thalyss, who's still locked in her dance with Tessa's uncle—vines lashing, petals torn, every strike met with a spectral blur.

She glances my way mid-swing, smirking despite the exhaustion in her movements. "Huh, finally done being a cuck?"

"Geez," I shoot back, spines flaring as I charge mana. "Is that something you say to someone helping you? Did your sister just skip the whole 'manners' lesson or what?"

Without waiting for a comeback, I unleash a barrage of arcane spines. They streak through the air in a flurry of blue light, hammering into the spectral wolf's side. Each impact forces its form to stutter and solidify for half a breath—enough to keep its movements staggered.

Thalyss whistles, half amused, half impressed, even as she lashes another vine to capitalize on the opening. "Well, at least you're mouthy and useful."

Thalyss's vines snap tight, coiling around the wolf's limbs and throat, thorns digging deep into that half-formed body. The beast thrashes, snarling in distorted tones that echo like metal scraping through fog—but she holds fast.

"Got you now, you undead mutt!" Thalyss growls, digging her roots into the ground for leverage.

The moment she locks it down, I surge forward, psychic energy flaring outward. My shell hums as I pour everything into it—a pulse of pure telekinetic force slamming down on the wolf like a falling boulder.

"NOW!" I scream through the link, the thought tearing out of me like a blade.

Morven moves instantly. He dashes forward, his steps a blur of silver and shadow. His hand slams onto the fragment embedded in the wolf's chest, and the air convulses.

Energy surges up his arm—violent, chaotic, laced with the same spectral resonance as the wolf itself. His teeth grit, tendons straining as violet light bursts from the point of contact, tearing through his veins like fire under glass.

"Almost—there—!" he grits out, the ground trembling beneath us as the fragment resists, pulsing with a heartbeat that doesn't belong to anyone living.

Meanwhile, in the chaos—while Morven strains against the fragment's energy—Tessa stands frozen in the wolf's line of sight. The air around her burns faintly.

Her voice comes out small, trembling. "Hey… Uncle Wolf. It's me. Remember? The pup?"

The spectral wolf's gaze locks onto her. Its glowing eyes waver, flickering between cold blue and dim gold. Its stance falters, claws scraping against the earth like it's fighting something deep inside itself.

Tessa takes a hesitant step closer, her tail low, ears pressed flat. "Everyone's gone," she says, voice cracking. "Papa Wolf, Mama Wolf, Brother Wolf, Big Sister… and Bigger Sister Wolf. Everyone's gone. But it wasn't for nothing."

Her breath catches, but she doesn't stop. "I'm here. I'm still alive. So please…"

The spectral wolf shifts again, the glow of its eyes trembling like candlelight in a storm. Its body quivers, and for one fragile heartbeat, it stops struggling against Thalyss's vines.

Morven's voice cuts through the chaos, strained but steady, every word shaking with effort. "Almost there—keep it up, all of you!"

Tessa's claws dig into the dirt as she inches closer, tears streaking her muzzle. "Please… don't resist," she pleads, voice breaking into a whisper. "It's all going to be over soon. You'll be back in no time, and we'll find whoever did this… together, okay?"

The spectral wolf's body flickers violently, the glow in its eyes shifting again—cold blue giving way to that faint, familiar gold. Its snarls turn to low, guttural whimpers as it fights itself, caught between the instinct to strike and something older, softer—memory.

"Come on…" Tessa murmurs, almost to herself. "Just remember me. Please."

The vines tighten, my telekinetic field straining as the pressure builds. Morven's hand glows brighter, the fragment pulsing beneath his palm like a second heartbeat ready to burst.

The gem begins to loosen. The pulsing light falters, threads of spectral energy snapping one by one under Morven's grip.

He lets out a guttural sound—half a growl, half a laugh—as violet light crawls up his neck. "Yes… yes, it's breaking apart… ahaha, come to me, little echo, come back where you belong…"

"Morv?" I call, but his voice is changing—layered, fractured.

He tilts his head sharply, eyes glowing too bright to look at. "Who… who said that? Not me, not him… someone else." His tone slips between mockery and panic. "A third voice, whispering between our ribs, don't you hear it?"

The air ripples around him, waves of unstable mana distorting everything. The wolf convulses under the telekinetic pressure, a wail ripping through its throat as if the sound came from both monster and man.

Tessa flinches. "Nur, what's happening to him?"

"Hell if I know!" I shout back, fighting to hold the psychic field together.

Morven laughs again—a hollow, echoing sound. "It's fine! I can hear them—one is crying, one is laughing, and one—one is ME! Ah, the symmetry!"

The gem twists, the glow reaching a fever pitch. His hand trembles violently as he pulls, caught between three voices and none of them his own.

Morven's scream tears through the air—raw, fractured, echoing in three different tones at once. "We're almost there—we're there! The thread—it's almost—"

He freezes.

Then his eyes widen, veins of violet light cracking across his face. "Wait. No… no, no, no—" His voice splinters into manic laughter that isn't entirely his. "The laugh—it's stronger!"

The gem pulses violently, a surge of light bursting from it like a heartbeat gone wrong. I feel it through the psychic field—a wave of mockery, a presence that doesn't belong here.

Morven claws at the air with his free hand, as if trying to tear something unseen off him. "It's laughing! Hah—hah—hah—oh gods, it's—" His voice twists into something guttural, too deep.

Tessa stumbles back, eyes wide. "Nur, what the hell is happening to him?!"

The spectral wolf's eyes flare white, its body convulsing in sync with Morven's tremors, bound by vines that now smolder from the sheer heat of mana bleeding out.

Morven's hand still grips the fragment, but it's no longer clear who's in control—his voice rising between agony and hysterical joy. "It's talking—no—it's remembering! Hahahaha—oh, I see now—I see everything, everything we were!"

The light builds, too bright, too loud, too alive. The laugh in it doesn't sound human.

The gem flares—brighter than anything I've seen. Its violet hue burns into red, veins of molten light spider-webbing across the wolf's chest.

"Morv!" I shout, but before I can reach him, the fragment snaps—a sharp, cracking sound that feels like reality tearing—and slams itself back into the wolf's body.

Then suddenly.

Morven's hand jerks away as if burned. His eyes clear in an instant; the madness vanishes, replaced by sudden, cold awareness.

"Oh shit," he breathes, stumbling back.

"Run."

I barely register the words before it happens—A low hum swells through the air, pressure building. Then—BOOM.

A violent shockwave erupts outward, ripping through the clearing. The ground fractures, trees bend and split, and the air itself screams.

I'm thrown back mid-hover, my shell rattling from the impact. Thalyss and Syralis vanish behind a wall of petals, Tessa barely digging her claws in before the wind tears past her.

Through the blinding haze, I see Tessa's uncle standing tall again—eyes burning red, the gem pulsing in his chest like a second heart gone berserk.

I reach out with my senses—what's left of them through the ringing static—and catch faint life signals scattered across the devastation.

Morven's presence is distant, flickering, but steady enough. He's alive—barely. The shockwave must've hit him point-blank. He's out cold, but not gone.

Tessa's closer, half-crouched beside me, her breathing ragged. She tries to push herself up, legs trembling under her. "Damn it…" she mutters, her voice rough. "That… thing hits like a god."

Farther off, the Alraune sisters are huddled behind what's left of a petal barrier. The wall is shredded, petals turned black at the edges, but it held—barely. Syralis is propping up Thalyss, whose expression is half fury, half shock.

As for me—every nerve in my cocoon hums wrong. My psychic field flickers like a dying candle. The air feels heavy, like gravity itself is pressing inward. The pain isn't sharp; it's hollow, throbbing through my core, a kind of deep vibration that doesn't stop.

I try to hover and nearly collapse again. My "voice" comes out quieter than I mean it to. "What… the hell was that?"

Tessa turns to me, panting, eyes wide and fearful. "Nur… it's him. He's… changing."

The wolf—no, the thing—stands in the center of the shattered clearing, its body twisting. The red light in its chest pulses violently, spilling out like cracks in glass. Every pulse shakes the air, every beat warping the mana around it.

And all I can think, through the numb pain and the noise in my head, is that the worst might not even have started yet.

The wolf takes one step forward—heavy, deliberate—and draws in a deep, shuddering breath. The sound alone makes the air ripple, mana vibrating so hard it hurts to hear.

Tessa's ears shoot up. "Oh no. He's gonna use that."

Before I can stop her, she forces herself up, stumbling at first, then running forward on shaky legs. Her chest rises and falls as she inhales, the air around her starting to shimmer with heat.

"Tessa, wait—"

She ignores me, eyes locked on the spectral giant ahead.

The wolf's chest expands. So does hers.

Then both of them throw their heads back and—

AWOOOOOOOOOOOO!

The two howls collide midair—one bursting with molten heat, the other a freezing, soul-ripping resonance that makes my psychic field scream.

The shockwaves meet with a soundless impact, the entire clearing caught between opposing forces. Heat flares, burning the air red; spectral energy crashes against it, draining the world of color. The ground between them craters, soil and petals lifted into a storm of dust and firelight.

I can feel both howls clawing through me—one burning, one pulling, like my soul's being stretched thin between them.

And somehow, impossibly, they're in perfect sync—same pitch, same rhythm.

A duet of life and death.

At first, it looks like a stalemate—two forces locked in perfect opposition. But I can feel it in the pressure bleeding through the air: Tessa's side is fading. Her howl wavers, the heat thinning, the ground beneath her claws cracking as she strains to keep it going.

The shockwave starts creeping toward us, inch by inch, swallowing the space between. My shell vibrates from the sheer force. "She's losing it," I mutter, panic rising.

Then, movement—two shapes rushing past me.

Thalyss and Syralis.

"What the hell are you two doing?"

"The things we Alraune do best," they say in eerie unison, taking position on either side of Tessa.

Their petals flare open, glowing from within.

And then they scream.

It's not a voice—it's a shriek, raw and ugly, vibrating the air into something physical. The sound tears through the clearing like a blade of resonance, ripping through both howls at once.

The moment their voices hit full pitch, the air implodes.

A violent explosion rips outward, all sound vanishing for a second before everything crashes back at once—heat, wind, and ghostlight colliding, then canceling out.

The howls stop. The spectral surge dies. The world falls silent, shivering in the aftershock.

And for a few breaths, all I can hear is the ringing in my head—followed by the faint, pained laughter of Thalyss, her voice hoarse. "Heh… We're loud when we wanna be."

Tessa's uncle stands there, unmoving in the haze—the embers of the clash still drifting through the air. For a moment, I think he's frozen in place, like the explosion burned the soul right out of him.

Then the gem on his chest begins to change.

The furious red dulls, pulsing slower, fainter—until it fades into a cold, empty white. The light spreads through his body, washing out the flickers of spectral fire until there's nothing left but pale, hollow glow.

He lifts his head, and I see it—his eyes no longer burn. They're just… empty. White voids, like something inside him finally remembered what it lost.

Tessa takes a hesitant step forward. "Uncle…?"

The wolf twitches, a faint shiver running through his body. Then, without a sound, he turns.

And runs.

Not a charge, not an attack—just pure instinct. He bolts into the treeline, his form flickering like ash in the wind, each stride carrying him farther until the forest swallows him completely.

The only thing left behind is the faint echo of his paws hitting the earth—and the silence he leaves behind feels heavier than the explosion.

End of Chapter 68

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