Power detonates through my veins. The fire doesn’t rise or flicker anymore. Itmarches.
Flames twist and condense, taking shape—dozens of them—human silhouettes forged entirely of fire, standing at my command, blazing with purpose and wrath. An army born in a heartbeat.
For one stunned moment, I can only stare.
So can the Siphon.
The circle tightens around it, heat crashing inward. In a single, panicked motion, the Siphon releases my friends, hurling them aside as the fire closes in. I sprint to them while my burning army tears into the creature, hacking it down as it shrinks, thrashes,weakens.
I grab Nala’s hand, hauling her upright. Ryder and River stagger to their feet beside us, coughing, almost scorched but alive.
Hope sparks—dangerous and fragile, but there.
The fire cages the Siphon, walls of flame pressing close, relentless. For a breathless second, it looks like we’ve done it, defeated it.
Then I hear it.
Laughter.
Low and amused.
I turn slowly, dread crawling up my spine.
“Another mistake,” the Siphon says softly. “Power.”
With what looks like one breath, he inhales, and the army vanishes in a single, horrifying pull, snuffed out as if it never existed. Fire collapses into nothing but scorched earth. The ring around us dims, weakened, trembling.
“Delicious,” the Siphon murmurs.
If it had a mouth, I know it would be licking its lips.
My stomach drops.
We retreat instinctively, shoulders pressed together, exhaustion dragging at our limbs as the Siphon advances, larger and stronger than before.
There’s no fire left to hide behind.
No strength left to bluff with.
No way out.
We are completely, utterly screwed.
Just then.
Ziek crashes into the ring through the remnants of the fire, his men not far behind.
He hits hard, plunging his spear straight through the Siphon’s core, pinning him to the ground in a violent burst of primal action. He looks at me once, over his shoulder, and nods—calm, composed, lethal. Like this was always how it would go.
Ryder runs to get his sword from the sleeping fire, but he doesn’t get it in time. I look around for a weapon… anything. But there’s nothing around.
“Ziek—wait!” I scream, my throat aching.
Too late.
The Siphon’s fingers elongate, liquefying into black, grasping tendrils that snap around Ziek’s head. He doesn’t even have time to cry out. The creature drinks him dry—life, power,everything—draining him like a straw.
It swells, doubling in size as if it took more than just Ziek’s energy… it took his vengence too.
