“Oh my God,” Velra breathed.
“It’s okay, little death, I can see to that. I promise.”
He nodded. “Okay… that’s… really good.” He swung his head again and then called out to someone.“I’m in the pool! I told you to respect my privacy! Do we need to rehash the other day? All right, good. Ten more minutes. Fuck, Ruxnoth. Then go. Now.”
To say his words, of which we could only determine his side with the nature of the connection, sent a rolling shock through the entire room, really didn’t begin to do it justice.
Sylas, Remnant, and Cassius smirked, then Remnant addressed Winter, “You’ve countered his puppet mastery?”
Winter blinked and returned his attention to us. “Don’t worry, he can’t sense this. None of them can. I’m using my illusionary conjuring ability to mask it all—thanks for that by the way, Dad. It’s really coming in handy. And as for your question, Grandpa, let’s just say I’ve positioned myself as untouchable.”
“That’s quite the accomplishment,” Ambrose commented, looking concerned.
Yes, for good reason.
Winter achieving such a thing… he would have needed to conduct some deep psychological manipulation, likely employ heavy-handed threats. And that wasn’t our gentle sweetheart.Curses,this entire situation was… altering him.
I just… we had to hope it was temporary, that he was resorting to doing what he had to in order to keep his head above water down there all alone in the den of a madman.
Winter didn’t speak to it, and informed us instead, “Sanctus is powered by something they refer to as a Fuel Core. Once I bond with it, that’s where you’re gonna need to send your magic, Ambrose. But not just send it. The bonding involves lifeforce, not just magic. You’ll need to temporarily reroute the Fuel Core’s intent of fueling the realm to eating itself.”
“No,” Sylas rumbled.
“Dad—”
“You bond to it with all that in play and you’ll die. Ambrose will need to drain you entirely so Sanctus can be fully “eaten” magically.”
“Death boy abomination here. I’ll resurrect immediately.”
Sylas pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s not just about death itself… it will be excruciating.”
“And deeply traumatizing,” Velra added.
“A small price to bring this fucking thing down, don’t you think?” Winter countered.
“Win—” Lazriel started.
“Look, trauma has already occurred. That’s just done. It’s done, okay? So I’m finishing this either way.”
“He just wants it to be over,” Ketheron spoke quietly to us. Then he called out to Winter, “Tiny god, Ambrose will need you to send out a pulse when you’ve bonded to the Core. Do you remember how to latch onto his magical signature?”
“It had to be him who brought Dad back. I’ll go through my necromantic link to him, and pick up on the residue of Ambrose’s that will still be in his system—for a few more days, right?”
“I death-tethered him, so yes,” Sylas told him. “That normally wouldn’t be the case, Win, due to my immunity,” he warned, clearly worried that Winter had overlooked that.
“Right, yeah, sorry.” He rubbed his eyes. “I’ve got it… just holding this communication steady is mentally taxing.”
“Are you unharmed, though? Physically?” Remnant asked gently. “You’ll need to be at full power to bond to this Fuel Core that’s normally upheld by a True Celestial.”
“I’m no longer harmed, let’s just put it that way and leave it at that for now. Back at full strength.”
I grimaced, Evira mirroring my reaction, and Zayn grasping my hand to temper his.
“Dad, you’re gonna death-tether the necromancers?” Winter asked.
“You have my word.”
“Thank you.”
