He lunges.
The blade whistles toward my ribs, but I twist aside just in time, the air parting where steel should have been. He’s fast—too fast—his movements unnaturally smooth, stolen power carrying him forward.
“Dad, stop!” I shout, but he doesn’t hear me.
He swings again. I block with my forearm and leap back, the pain detonating with the impact.
I don’t have time for this. Not now. Not when the fire could collapse at any minute, not when my friends are moments from facing the Siphon without me.
He’s on me in a blink.
The blade slices across my bicep. Heat. Blood. I hiss through my teeth and slam my palm into the earth, releasing a burst of light. The ground fractures, flaring as it blasts him backwards.
He lands in a roll. Unfazed. Years of training evident in his movements.
He charges at me, but I don’t hesitate.
I sprint toward him. His eyes catch mine—amused, almost curious at my defiance. He lunges first, a ball of light flickering at his fingertips, but before he can claim the advantage, I seize it. The energy bends to my will, tearing free from his grasp and dancing obediently in my palm.
His eyes widen as we collide.
Then, I drive my hand into his chest and release the golden orbs.
Light detonates outward, flooding the fractures where the Siphon coils through his mind. The stench of burning flesh makes my stomach twist, but I don’t stop. I can’t. Not until the Siphon releases its hold.
Black slime crawls from his eyes and ears, streaking down his face as he screams. Darkness spills from his pupils in oily tendrils, unravelling, evaporating—ripped apart like smoke in a raging wind.
His knees hit the dirt, but I catch him before he can fall completely, arms wrapping around him as his weight collapses into me. His eyes lift to mine—dazed, pained, butpresent.
“It’s okay,” I whisper, my voice breaking as I tend to his burnt skin, regenerating his flesh. “You’re safe.”
He leans into my touch, exhausted, and for a moment, I want nothing more than to stay. To hold him. To pretend the world isn’t ending in fire behind me.
But he follows my gaze to the inferno.
“Go,” he says softly. Firmly. Like my dad again.
I swallow hard and nod once.
Then I turn and run—leaving him behind, trusting he’ll still be there when this is over.
The fire stares back at me, licking hungrily at the air like a starved beast.
‘You will watch the world burn.’
The words curl through my mind like smoke as my reflection burns molten orange. The heat sinks into my bones until it feels as if the fire breathes with me.
Not today.
As if the fire itself obeys, a column of shadow rises from the blaze—solid, thick, and shaped like a step. My hand touches it, and it’s firm beneath my palm, like charred wood that refuses to burn. I step onto it, and another forms ahead of me, then another. Soon I’m sprinting upward, higher and higher above the roaring flames, each shadow-tendril unfurling beneath my feet the moment I need it.
The fire rages below, but my footing is certain.
When I reach the edge, the sight below knocks the breath from me—my friends are fighting for their lives.
The creature is relentless.
Fire washes over its inky black skin, but it does nothing—the flames curl around it and vanish, as if swallowed whole. Lightdoesn’t shimmer or reflect; it dies against the Siphon’s form, leaving only an impossibly dark silhouette.
