TWENTY-TWO
Kaelen
The rubble shifted. It didn't tumble naturally; it disintegrated, the heavy basalt blocks turning to grey dust as if aged a million years in a single second.
Apollo rose from the debris.
He didn't look injured. He lookedwrong. The blow from Thane’s hammer should have shattered his ribs, maybe punctured a lung. Instead, his torso seemed to realign itself with a sickening, wet squelch, the greyish skin rippling like oil on water.
"You broke my rib," Apollo observed, touching his side. His voice was a distortion, a beautiful melody played backward on a broken instrument. He smiled, and black smoke leaked from between his teeth. "I haven't felt a bone break since the Titan War. It’s almost nostalgic."
"He's regenerating," I snarled, the white fire of the ritual roaring around me like a cage. My hands were locked toward the Anvil, pouring the very essence of the Dragon into Aria, but my eyes were fixated on the threat. "The Void. It’s knitting him back together faster than we can break him."
"Then we break him faster," Flynn yelled, appearing from the shadows of the machinery. He was a blur of motion, spinning his daggers, his breathing rhythmic and sharp.
"Defense positions!" I barked the order, the command tearing from my throat. "Thane, Flynn, keep him off us! Elias, hold the lattice! If I stop burning, she hardens. If Elias drops the logic, she melts. We are the battery. You are the shield."
"I am the Wall," Thane rumbled.
He stepped over a pile of scrap metal, positioning himself between the Anvil and the corrupted Sun God. He didn't have his hammer, it was lying near Apollo’s feet, but he didn't need it. He raised his fists, immense blocks of scarred knuckles and divine strength, and slammed his foot onto the ground.
The iron floor rippled. A barrier of jagged earth and torn metal shot up, creating a rampart.
Apollo sighed, a sound of infinite boredom. He raised his hand, pointing a finger blackened by rot at the ceiling.
"Come out and play," he whispered.
The vortex above us pulsed. The black rain turned into a torrent. But it wasn't just rain anymore. The droplets hit the floor and coalesced, bubbling and writhing, forming stumbling shapes. Faceless soldiers. Hounds with too many legs. Birds made of razor-wire and shadow.
The Forge wasn't a workshop anymore. It was a kill box.
"Incoming!" Flynn roared.
The wave of enemies hit us.
Flynn met them first. He didn't fight like a duelist; he fought like a thresher. He dove into the mass of void-creatures, moving so fast he was just a streak of violent intent. I saw a flash of steel, a spray of black ichor, and three shadow-soldiers dissolved into slush.
Don't look,I told myself, forcing my gaze back to the Anvil.Focus on the heat. Focus on her.
Aria lay on the dark iron slab. She was motionless, locked in the paralysis of the transmutation. Her skin was a terrifying landscape of shifting alloys, gold bleedings into star-metal grey, veins of magma-red pulsing just beneath the surface. Her eyes were wide open, fixed on the ceiling, but I could feel her terror radiating through the bond.
She was awake. She felt every second of this.
I am here,I projected into her mind, pushing the fire harder.I am burning for you.
It’s heavy,her thought came back, a faint, metallic whisper.Kaelen... the air is heavy.
"Heat levels specifically at the sternum are fluctuating!" Hephaestus bellowed, swinging his mallet to strike a glowing rivet on her shoulder.CLANG."Dragon! Steady the output! You're wavering!"
"I am trying to not get eaten!" I yelled back.
A shadow-harpy dove at me, screeching. I couldn't move my hands. I couldn't stop the flow.
I turned my head andbreathed.
A jet of dragon fire erupted from my mouth, a plume of black and gold flame that engulfed the creature. It incinerated instantly, turning to ash that tasted of sulfur on my tongue.
"Showoff," Flynn panted, sliding past me on his knees to gut a void-wolf that was chewing on my boot.
