The creature tilts its head, sludge dripping from its shoulders. “What, you don’t recognise me? Not even you, Nala?” Its featureless face turns toward her.
“Don’t look at her!” I shout, stepping between them, chopping its arm off, but it regrows just as quickly, sickeningly longer than it was before.
“Maybe it’s this form you don’t recognise. How about now?”
The sludge liquefies, peeling away in slow, repulsive sheets. My breath catches as the shape beneath is revealed—
“…Charlie?” Nala whispers. Shock freezes her features.
Charlie smiles—a warped, broken shadow of the boy we knew—before sludge curled around him like blackened armour.
“After your little circus act at the mountain,” he says, voice soft and venomous, “Nyxos called to me. He saw my potential… asked to use my vessel. I said yes, of course.”
He raises a hand. River gasps. Ryder stiffens. Nala’s breath catches. They freeze mid-motion, eyes wide with horror.
“And do you know what I find really funny… The fact that you caused this.” his words sting. “All of this.”
River and Nala look at me, their brows tightening, as confusion warps their features. “It’s ironic, don’t you think?” A sick grin spreads on his face. “In trying to save everyone, you released the one thing that could damn them all.”
I want to tell them it’s not true, that he’s lying, but I don’t… because it is my fault
“Shut up!” I yell, taking another writhing limb off. It falls with a sick thud, this time not regenerating.
“Come on, Asha, do your worst, I can’t wait to see what mistakes you’ll make this time around… I can’t wait to watch the world burn because of you.” It laughs deep and dry like there’sgravel stuck in its lungs. Its words freeze me momentarily before Ryder swings his sword and takes its head clean off.
“You talk too much.” He says, his blade shimmering in black ink.
Silence follows for a moment, and all you can hear is the roar of the fire and our laboured breaths.
Then the sludge reforms and takes shape again.
My heart stammers. I was naive to think it would be over this quickly.
“Nice swing,” Charlie looks to Ryder. “But I’ll be taking that.”
His tendrils stretch with lightning speed and take Ryder’s blade, throwing it out of the ring, leaving him unarmed.
“My mother’s death,” it says softly, stepping toward me, each sludge-coated foot slapping the earth, “is on your hands.”
I anchor my feet, lifting my chin, and refusing to move. He stops inches from me.
“You took the only person I ever loved,” he murmurs, sweeping his black eyes over my friends, lingering on Ryder. “So now, I’m going to take the peopleyoulove.”
Suddenly, I hear my friends choke, their feet leaving the ground as an invisible force compresses them. Ryder thrashes blindly, cleaving only smoke, and Kareem tumbles down, leaving Nala vulnerable.
It holds them with its power and drifts them closer to the roaring fire. My heart hammers.
“No!” I shout. “Stop!”
I leap after them, clawing for anything—boots, ankles, fabric—but my hands slide uselessly away. They surge faster than thought, racing toward the flames, writhing uselessly.
My mind fractures, whirling through every possible ending. None of them are survivable.
Ryder flinches as fire snaps inches from his face, heat curling his brows, and I’m certain my heart forgets how to beat.
“Enough!” I scream.
The word tears out of me, raw and furious—and something inside me answers.
