The silence was the most terrifying thing. It wasn't the silence of peace; it was the suffocating, dense quiet that follows a world-ending scream.

The Lich, a creature whose existence was dedicated to the supremacy of death, was paralyzed. Its cold blue eyes, usually burning with disdain, were wide and utterly vacant with a terror only a peer could inspire. It was not facing a humble Dungeon Avatar; it was facing an Overlord.

"You stole it," the Lich hissed, the sound dry as dust, the only undead voice still capable of speech. "You consumed a fragment of the Master's authority. You have signed your own death contract."

Reed, standing tall over the prone body of the Death Knight, didn't reply verbally. He didn't need to. The Shadow Mana he had consumed was an invasive consciousness, communicating with the brute force of pure, absolute dominance.

It pulsed outward from his chest, an invisible wave that pressed down on the entire Foundry. The remaining skeletons outside the breach were not merely still; they were pressed into the cold earth, crushed beneath a gravitational field of dark magic.

The corruption was intoxicating. Reed felt an omnipotent surge—a cold, divine clarity that made the concerns of mana, traps, and physical survival seem petty. He felt the frozen body of Terra beneath his feet; the Shadow Mana offered to reanimate the golem, not with fire, but with pure, necrotic cold. He could turn his tank against its own Core. He could harvest the soul of the downed Paladin and make her a Warlord.

This was not defense. This was conquest.

And it was killing him.

Inside his Core, a tiny, frantic flicker of blue light—his original Dungeon Mana—was being drowned in a tidal wave of oily blackness.

[WARNING: CORE INSTABILITY] Necrotic Essence Saturation: 98%. System Integrity: Critical. Core Breach in T-Minus 60 Seconds. Result: Catastrophic Self-Destruct or Total Corruption (Becoming a Free Necromancer).

The Lich, sensing the momentary pause, seized its chance. It lashed out with its staff, firing a final, desperate burst of shadow-fire. It wasn't an attack to wound; it was an attack to distract.

The Lich turned to flee, attempting to initiate its complex teleportation spell.

"NO!"

The raw, primal scream tore from Reed's throat. It was not a command from the Shadow Mana; it was a desperate cry from his soul.

He couldn't risk the Lich escaping and revealing his weakness to Malakor. He couldn't risk becoming a mindless puppet of the dark. He needed control. He needed his Anchor.

With the last remnants of his will, Reed reached deep into the stone wall behind him, where he knew his desperate ally was waiting.

"ELARA!" he roared, the word a fusion of sound and psychic lightning. "PROTOCOL ZERO! NOW!"

The answer was immediate, visceral, and terrifying.

From the rock, the pressure of the Shadow Mana was violently countered by an equal and opposite force. The air screamed as Elara burst free.

She wasn't a wispy ghost; she was a whirlwind of frantic, silver light and raw, agonizing emotion. Her translucent form was driven by a single, focused imperative: Protect the Core. Protect him.

She didn't phase into him gently as before. She slammed into his chest like a silver bullet.

FSSSSSSSS.

The air crackled. The Foundry was bathed in a blinding, agonizing flash of energy.

The blackness of the Necrotic Essence met the silver purity of the Spirit Essence. The two high-tier mana types fought for control of Reed's physical vessel, creating a spiritual maelstrom. Reed arched his back again, screaming silently as the energies tore at his body. He felt his veins freeze and then boil simultaneously.

[PROTOCOL ZERO: SOUL SYNC INITIATED] Dual-Core Processing: Stable (12% Efficiency). Mana Type: Shadow-Flame Hybrid. Result: NECROTIC ESSENCE STABILIZED.

The crushing feeling of absolute dominance was suddenly tempered by an intense, melancholic wave of protectiveness—Elara's own soul signature. The violet light in Reed's eyes stabilized. It was no longer the wild, consuming purple of the Shadow Rot, but a controlled, shimmering Violet-Fire, cold to the touch but burning with supernatural intensity.

Reed staggered, but he was no longer collapsing. He was standing, powered by a terrifying, fused magic.

"Grika! Maira!" Reed's voice was his own, urgent, but with a deep, resonant quality that demanded instant obedience. "I need the heat. I need Terra back online!"

"We're frozen, Boss!" Grika shrieked from under her console.

"We don't have time for the console!" Reed commanded. He felt Elara's cold panic guiding him. The power is in the floor. The power is the Core.

Reed walked, steady now, toward the black, frozen obsidian that encased the magma channels. He slammed both hands down onto the icy rock.

The Shadow-Flame Hybrid Mana surged from his palms. It was the perfect counter. It contained the crushing dominance of the Necrotic Core, but the spiritual purity of Elara prevented the energy from simply corrupting the stone.

"I command the heat to return!"

The resulting energy explosion was localized but devastating. A wave of Violet-Fire erupted along the channels. It didn't melt the ice; it incinerated it, forcing the molten rock beneath to flash-boil in an agonizing scream of steam and energy.

The Foundry roared back to life.

The Shadow-Flame rushed down the channels, heading straight for the core of Terra.

The massive Magma Golem remained frozen, but the energy hammered at her icy shell.

CRACK. CRACK. CRACK.

The ice cracked and vaporized. The stone plating of Terra's chest began to glow again, from a faint pink to a bright, defiant orange. Her eyes flared to life.

"RESTART… SUCCESSFUL," Terra boomed, her voice raw with mechanical fury. "HEAT. I HAVE HEAT."

The Lich watched its strategic masterpiece—the crippling freeze of the Foundry—unravel in seconds. It panicked.

"No! This is blasphemy! Unholy… Light! Unholy… FUSION!"

Reed didn't give the Lich time to reorganize. He pointed a finger, channeling the full, stabilized might of the Shadow-Flame Hybrid.

"GET OUT OF MY DUNGEON."

The command was so absolute, so laced with the stolen dominance of the Necrotic Core, that the Lich's spirit-form simply fractured. It was torn from the room, shooting backward out of the breach and up the Great Spiral Ramp, leaving a shimmering trail of dark mana residue.

The threat was gone.

The immense pressure lifted.

Reed sagged, his energy reserves hitting absolute zero. Elara's presence in his mind instantly evaporated, returning to the walls, leaving behind only an icy aftershock of profound emptiness.

He collapsed to the cold floor, utterly spent.

[MANA RESERVE: 0.0 / 150]

[PROTOCOL ZERO: TERMINATED]

Avatar Status: Extreme Exhaustion.

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