Cerberus and Holdo exchanged a single glance, a silent understanding passing between them in the split second before chaos erupted.

The brown-haired archer was the first to move, blood still flowing out of the wound on her head.

Her body twitched, her head lolling unnaturally to the side before snapping upright.

Her eyes (once a vibrant green) were now entirely white, devoid of any thought or recognition. She was soulless.

Suddenly, like puppets jerked into motion, the rest of the soldiers stood in perfect synchrony, (but it was odd), as though a being that had no understanding of the human body had suddenly taken control.

One by one, they turned toward Cerberus and Holdo, their faces expressionless.

Their weapons, still clutched in stiff fingers, were no longer aimed at the sky, but at the two men who had, moments ago, been their commanders.

Olga rose last.

Her face, usually sharp with defiance, was slack; her breathing steady and unhurried, as if she were sleepwalking.

But when her white eyes locked onto Cerberus, her fingers curled around the hilt of her sword with deadly intent.

"Holdo," Cerberus growled, his grip tightening on his blade.

"I see them," Holdo muttered, his own weapon already drawn.

At that moment, the first soldier lunged (a young spearman), his attack clumsy but relentless.

Cerberus sidestepped, driving the pommel of his sword into the man's temple. The soldier crumpled, but two more were already closing in.

"Clang!"

"We can't kill them!" Holdo barked, parrying a wild swing from another possessed soldier. "They're still ours!"

"Then disable them!" Cerberus snapped, slamming his armored forearm into a charging swordsman's throat.

The man gagged, staggered, but didn't fall.

Olga moved next.

She was faster than the others (more precise), her blade cutting through the air, forcing Cerberus to duck.

Fortunately, Cerberus was faster. He caught her wrist and twisted it hard enough to make her drop the weapon, but she didn't react:

No grunt of pain, no flicker of awareness, just that hollow, empty stare.

"Olga damn it, snap out of it!" Cerberus snarled, shoving her back. But she didn't respond; she just came at him again, fists swinging.

Holdo was faring no better. The soldiers pressed in, unrelenting, their bodies moving with a single-minded purpose. One grabbed him from behind; another locked his arms—

"Cerberus!" Holdo growled.

And Cerberus spun, slamming his elbow into Olga's ribs. He then pivoted to drive his boot into the chest of a soldier lunging at Holdo. The man flew back, but three more took his place.

"They'll keep coming, I hate to say this but we'll have to start killing them," Holdo gritted out, wrenching free.

Cerberus' eyes darted to the sky; he noted that the cloud-being had reformed. It hovered above them like a patient predator, its countless eyes gleaming with something almost like amusement.

"The real problem's still up there," Cerberus muttered.

"And we can't reach it," Holdo shot back, barely dodging a dagger swipe, a soft look flashing through his eyes as he struck.

"Argh!"

A sharp cry cut through the din (the soldier had been impaled), Holdo's blade punching clean through his armor.

The wounded man gasped, but his eyes cleared slightly as he slowly slumped, a look of sorrow in his eyes.

Holdo redrew his blade and looked away, swallowing hard, his fists tightening.

"Swoosh!"

As soon as life drained from that man's eyes something happened: the being above shuddered, wheezing slightly.

'Did we just hurt it?' Cerberus thought as he cut through another soldier, his gaze unwavering.

He wanted to yell, to tell Holdo to kill another one, but when he sneaked a glance at Olga, his eyes softened slightly. He then thought of the repercussions.

'These men are dead either way, a wound to the head, no.. no there has to be a way to undo this,' Cerberus thought grimly, gravely wounding another soldier with a brutal stomp.

Olga had long since risen again, her form swiftly catching up to Holdo, who parried her strike with narrowed eyes.

"Cerberus, we have to start killing the infected soldiers! Even the wounded are getting up!" he yelled, his eyes narrowed at Olga's blank face.

"Pull back. I'll take care of her," Cerberus responded, his expression heavy.

"Fragor!" Holdo chanted in response to his partner's words, flames blasting under his feet as his figure shot back.

"Clang!" Cerberus slipped in, blocking Olga's robotic strike and pushing her back with force. She was open.

"Strike!" Holdo yelled. But the man didn't strike; rather, he just stepped back and met her blade again.

The rest of the soldiers were easy to push back. Olga, on the other hand, was physically stronger due to her higher level, making her tricky to handle.

'He's hesitant. Why wouldn't he be? But we have a duty,' Holdo thought as he fought, striking down another soldier. He watched as the thing above him trembled. 'So killing our fellow soldiers does indeed weaken it.'

Looking at Cerberus's battle, Holdo shook his head. 'I could have just ended her myself if I thought what he was doing was wrong? I-I... of course I do. But I also understand... Do I? I'm here killing my own men.'

Suddenly, while thinking, Holdo caught sight of four infected soldiers running deeper into their camp, so he turned to Cerberus. "They're heading for the High Scioness."

'What?' Cerberus thought, blocking another strike as he spotted the men. At that moment, a horrid thought crossed his mind. "Wait, Holdo! How do we know the slaves back at camp weren't infected as well?"

Holdo's breath stilled at those words, his eyes narrowed. "We have to get to the High Scioness!"

"Schreeeeee!"

A deafening screech suddenly broke out from the sky above, one so potent that Holdo could feel a ringing in his ears.

In that moment, the cloud-being convulsed, its form twisting like a wounded serpent before lurching downward in a torrent of black mist, streaking toward Olga's motionless body.

Cerberus saw it coming, his eyes widening slightly as he discovered who it was heading for. "Olga!" He screamed but it was too late.

The black mist slammed into her, the force pushing Cerberus back.

Like a torrent, it poured into her eyes, her nose, her mouth (forcing itself inside like a parasite).

Olga's body jerked, her back arching violently as the last wisps of the entity vanished within her.

Then, stillness. And for a heartbeat, nothing moved. Cerberus watched, Holdo waited.

Then Olga's head snapped up and the first thing they noticed was that her eyes were no longer white.

They were black, (pits of swirling darkness), deeper than the void above them, but something was different; she did not seem mindless, nor did she seem robotic.

She seemed alive, but her expression wasn't angry or aloof like the Olga they knew; it had a certain glee to it, a certain smile.

Olga's smiling lips parted, and the voice that emerged was wrong, a chorus of whispers, layered over her own.

"Hello, Cerberus, how are you?"

As soon as she spoke, Cerberus didn't hesitate; rather, he moved, his sword flashing toward her exposed neck (not to kill), but to incapacitate.

"Whoosh!"

Olga dodged and caught his wrist before the blade landed, her grip so firm that Cerberus felt his bones creak.

"Argh," the man grunted before, but Olga did not care; rather, she threw him.

"Bang!"

He crashed into the dirt, rolling just in time to see Holdo's fire spell erupt toward her, only for Olga's other hand to conjure up a shield of mist and when the attack connected, the flames dissipated harmlessly against the ground.

Holdo's eyes widened at this sight, his heart pounding. "We have to run!"

"I'd rather you not, I'm just getting used to my new form." The thing wearing Olga's skin smiled, and the expression was too wide, too many teeth. "She is a good vessel don't you think Holdo, well she certainly didn't like you so you have to go-"

It said as it moved faster than before, faster than possible for someone at Olga's level.

"Clang!"

Holdo barely raised his sword in time. The impact sent him skidding back, boots carving furrows in the earth.

Cerberus was already up, striking from behind, but Olga's body twisted mid-motion, her elbow slamming into his ribs with enough force to crack armor.

"Bam!"

He felt it, the air leaving his lungs in a rush, that unreasonable force sending him stumbling back, his vision swimming, then he felt something close around his throat, Olga's fingers.

"You resist." Its voice said with a hiss, raising his form into the air, choking him as it continued. "But flesh… wait!"

The being suddenly spoke, orbs widened in surprise. "I can't tighten my grip."

With those words, it smirked as though partly amused by the situation. "It would seem that this vessel cared for you much more than she let on."

"What are you talking about," Cerberus grunted, his voice gruff.

"You forgot that I have all her memories, meaning that I know what your bet is," she sang, her tone light as she added, yelled even. "Why don't we trigger it, I LOVE YOU CERBERUS—Ahhhh—"

"Fragor!"

"Accendere!"

Holdo's spell detonated at point-blank range, flames engulfing Olga's side drawing a shriek, the sound inhuman.

With this gap Cerberus wrenched free, gasping, his pupils dilating as an abysmal voice unrelated to Olga whispered in his mind. 'You have four hours!'

Olga staggered backwards there was no blood, no burns, just smoke curling off raw, disfigured skin.

Holdo paled. "That should have incinerated her," he muttered.

"You will die," Olga's head tilted, black eyes locking onto them. "I will kill you two."

At those words, Cerberus spat blood, his grip tightening on his sword. "We can't win this, he muttered dryly.

Holdo didn't argue. "Then we grab the High Scioness and run," he suggested.

Simultaneously, another screech tore from Olga's throat not pain, but rage as she lunged again.

But Cerberus and Holdo had already moved.

-------------

Meanwhile, within the camp, within the endless black drizzle, Sophia stood, drenched again, her form hidden behind the soldier meant to protect her.

The armored soldier stood strong, his sword pointed at the salves who, while still bound, fought to break from their restraints.

Normally, the offender would just be punished by a whipping, and the rest of the slaves would quiet down, but this time it was different.

Their eyes were pure white with no black in them, their faces expressionless as they struggled violently, even to the point of self-harm.

'Is it because of these things?' he thought, opening his palms to reveal two things that looked like seeds, but the things moved.

The man had caught both these seeds when they had been flying towards both his and Sophia's temples saving them from the grueling fate of becoming...

In that moment, the guard heard footsteps and turned his head only to see about four armed men rushing towards their location, eyes white and soulless.

'I don't know what's happening, but I can't let those men near the High Scioness, they are Wizards after all. Also, the slaves are tied, she'll be fine,' The soldier thought before turning to Sophia.

"High Scioness, please stay here, I have to take care of something," he said, his voice grim.

Hearing those words Sophia felt her heart skip. "But—"

"Here, take my sword. They are normal humans," the guard handed her his sword before speeding off, green flames erupting at the bottom of his feet as he chanted. "Second page of the Military Flame Control script: Fragor!"

And just like that, he was gone.

Turning back to the slaves at hand Sophia gulped as she watched them struggle like animals.

'They can't break free,' she told herself, but still remained outside the tent, not daring to go in, lest one of them but at her leg.

Unfortunately, Sophia had gravely underestimated what humans were capable of when the notion of self-preservation was eradicated.

Someone, one of the slaves broke free, somehow, his wrists and ankles heavily bruised, his neck bleeding from the bonds as he rose.

"Ohh no," Sophia muttered as she stepped back, watching, her hands firmly holding her two swords.

"Sit down," She warned the burly man, but he only moved to the side of the tent, gripping a metal rake used for labor.

This was the slave tents where they kept not only the slaves but slave equipment.

At the same time, she watched as three more slaves broke loose, some even freeing their friends, all picking up what they could find.

Yet in all this, she did not run. 'I'm a Witch, I am High Scioness Sophia Von Vortigern, child of Archduke Von Vortigern of the Archaemus domain. It would be a disgrace for me to flee from humans!'

'Argh!'

Two slaves, a dark skinned, burly man, along with a white skinned youth, suddenly rushed towards Sophia, rake in hand.

But she was ready, 'I have been taught this before,' she pondered, holding a steady stance as she blocked the first rake, pushing the man back.

"Perry!" She muttered.

The other slave followed, striking immediately, but their movements were slow in Sophia's eyes even though they would be considered peak athletes on earth.

"Perry!" She muttered again as she blocked before striking, the slave's weapon. "Strike!" She muttered.

Suddenly, all the slaves came up to her at once, and she was suddenly overwhelmed.

"Clang!"

"Clang!"

"Clang!"

She blocked what she could and dodged what she couldn't, her heart beating in her chest, until-

"Ting!"

Her weapon was hindered between the forks of the rake, and in that instant, a whip from another female slave struck her shoulders.

"Ahh!" She screamed, her eyes widening as a burly slave brought down a machete upon her. She could not defend herself, so she closed her eyes, her body shrinking in fear.

"Clang!"

A collision, a sound she had not expected, filled her eyes. Despite the stinging pain in her shoulder, she could feel someone holding her firmly by the wrist.

A familiar, almost chilling pleasant voice whispering in her ear. "You mustn't let this register on an emotional level."

That scent, it was the same one that had saved her in the Misty Marsh.

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