Chapter 41 - For The One He Cannot Name [Part 2]

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The earth stopped screaming.

Seele found herself flat on her stomach, scythe clutched in both hands, dirt grinding between her teeth. The tremor that had just torn through Everwinter Hill faded to nothing more than a distant rumble, like thunder retreating beyond the horizon.

She pushed herself up on her elbows. Bits of frozen soil tumbled from her hair.

Around her, the others were doing the same—March sprawled a few meters away, Gepard on one knee with his hand braced against the ground, Natasha crouched low with her cannon-launcher held tight against her chest. Serval had her guitar clutched like a shield, and Bronya...

Bronya was staring up at the sky with something that might have been hope written across her face.

Seele followed her gaze.

The Engine of Creation stood frozen mid-strike, its massive fist suspended, ready to tear the Underworld asunder. But the blow had never landed.

An azure tempest erupted from below. The ethereal dragon, Dan Heng's power made manifest, met the Engine's descending fist with a roar that was felt more than heard. Marble-like armor shattered. The seventy-meter construct's arm, the one poised to obliterate the Underworld, disintegrated into a cloud of dust and sparking machinery.

But the dragon's ascent didn't stop.

Its serpentine body, glowing with the light of a hundred drowned stars, continued upward and pierced straight through the Engine's chest.

A gaping, smoking hole now tore through the war machine's torso. The construct shuddered violently. Its glowing red eyes, which had burned with so much malevolence moments before, flickered once, twice, and then went dark. The hulking frame sagged, its remaining arm falling limp, a puppet with its strings cut. The Engine of Creation was dead.

Seele couldn't help it.

She laughed.

The sound came out hoarse and ragged, torn from somewhere deep in her chest where fear had been living rent-free since the Long Night of Solace began. She laughed because the damn plan had actually worked. That insane, suicidal, absolutely batshit plan that the man had proposed—the one where they punched a hole through the Underworld's ceiling directly beneath the Engine's position, using Dan Heng's dragon as a living battering ram to strike from an angle Cocolia couldn't predict.

It had been such an insane idea that it could only have come from an insane man.

But Oleg had signed off on it after hours of geological calculations. The old miners had triple-checked every stress point and load-bearing pillar. And Seele, who had spent her entire life in the Underworld knowing exactly how fragile their stone sky really was had the Overworld decided to do something about, had decided to throw caution to the wind and just believe.

Believe that maybe, just maybe, they could pull off something impossible.

The proof—a seventy-meter monument to their impossible victory—slumped silently in the sky above them, a dead titan.

"CAPTAIN GEPARD!"

Natasha's scream cut through Seele's moment of vindication.

The captain was already moving. His right fist blazed with blue light, bright enough to make Seele squint. He raised it high above his head, and Seele felt the air around them shift, the temperature plummeting so fast her breath turned to frost.

"In the name of Landau," Gepard roared, his voice carrying across the frozen wasteland, "we shall never fall!"

The pillar of ice erupted from the ground where Dan Heng's dragon had broken through. It shot upward with the sound of a cannon blast, a massive column of crystalline blue that sealed the breach in the earth. The pillar solidified in less than a second, its surface smooth as glass, reflecting the dim light of Jarilo-VI's perpetual twilight.

But that wasn't all.

Seele felt it before she saw it—layers of protection wrapping around them like invisible blankets. Gepard's Preservation manifesting as barriers, thin sheets of shimmering force that overlapped and reinforced one another. March added her own shields to the mix, ice crystals forming geometric patterns in the air. Even Xander contributed his own golden barrier to the defense.

The combined weight of their protection pressed against Seele's skin. It felt like standing in the eye of a storm, insulated from the chaos raging just beyond reach.

It invigorated her.

The thing responsible for so many years of suffering—for the Underworld's starvation, for the children who died in the mines, for every life crushed beneath the weight of Belobog's slow extinction—that thing floated right in front of her. And she had a chance to let loose and rip it a new one.

If not with her scythe, then with her own two hands.

The dragon, its purpose served, began to dissipate. Its ethereal form unraveled into streams of water that fell like a soft rain upon the dead machine and the frozen ground. Dan Heng's power was spent. Above them, the deactivated Engine of Creation stood silent, a hulking monument to their defiance. Cocolia had lost her greatest weapon, and now her attention—and all her fury—was focused entirely on them.

She descended.

The corrupted Supreme Guardian floated down from the sky, her transformed body a nightmare of crystalline structures and cosmic patterns. Where her face should have been, there was only a void-skull wreathed in nebulae, her eyes burning with golden light rimmed in red. The Lance of Preservation—now corrupted beyond recognition—hovered at her side, responding to her will without needing to be held.

"WHY?" The word tore from Cocolia's throat in a discordant chorus of voices—adult and child, male and female, all speaking as one. The void-skull tilted, its burning gaze fixed not on them, but on the pillar of ice Gepard had summoned.

"That was cloudhymn magic. The power of the Dragon's scions." The statement was not a question but a furious accusation, the voices overlapping in disbelief. "A child of the Permanence... here? In this frozen wasteland? This world is a tomb of ice, sealed by the Preservation! It has no place for your endless cycles of rebirth!"

Her burning gaze ripped away from the ice pillar and snapped to Xander, the fury in the chorus of voices intensifying, focusing on him as the root of this cosmic transgression.

"YOU!" Cocolia shrieked, the overlapping voices turning into a cacophony of rage. "This is your doing! Your arrival has torn a hole in this world's solitude! You dragged this... this dragon into our tomb! YOU ARE A PLAGUE! An open wound drawing cosmic filth from across the stars!" The void-skull seemed to lean forward, its burning eyes somehow narrowing with contempt. "Explain yourself, abomination! How many more impossibilities follow in your wake?"

Someone chuckled.

Seele's head whipped around.

March 7th stood with her bow in hand, an arrow already nocked, and the expression on her face was pure defiance. The girl who loved taking pictures and making friends, who saw wonder in every new world—that girl was gone. In her place stood someone who had watched her companion's heart stop fifty-five times and come back each time through sheer stubbornness.

"Afraid?" March asked, her voice carrying across the frozen ground.

The simplicity of it was beautiful.

Everything went monochrome.

Seele's breath caught. The world drained of color, every surface turning to shades of gray and white. Cocolia moved—no, she teleported, reality itself bending around her corrupted form. The lance streaked toward March's neck like a guillotine blade. Chronosurge. The same technique Xander used, now wielded by the Stellaron that had learned it from him.

Seele's quantum abilities were the only reason she could barely track the movement. One instant Cocolia was floating ten meters away. The next, she was there, right in front of March, the lance already cutting through the space where the girl's head had been.

But Xander was faster.

Golden light erupted as he activated his own Chronosurge, materializing between them with his Neuromorphic Armament shifted into a massive shield. The lance struck with the sound of a bell being rung inside a cathedral, a deep GONG that made Seele's teeth rattle.

Color rushed back into the world.

The impact drove Xander back three steps, his boots carving furrows through the permafrost. Embers poured off his body in waves, and cracks spiderwebbed across his golden barrier. His jaw clenched, veins standing out on his neck from the strain.

March immediately manifested a shield around him—geometric patterns of ice that wrapped his torso like armor. Gepard added his own barrier a split second later, blue light reinforcing the ice.

"Keep them coming!" Xander barked, voice tight with pain.

Cocolia stumbled backward, her attack deflected. But she didn't retreat. The void-skull's burning eyes locked onto Xander with predatory focus.

The world went gray again.

Fuck. Seele barely had time to register the shift before Cocolia was moving, her form blurring through colorless reality. She came at Xander from three angles simultaneously—no, not three angles, three different attacks, each one a branching possibility that existed in the space between seconds.

Xander's eyes blazed gold. His Chronosurge flared to match hers.

He parried the first strike—lance against shield, another deafening GONG. Twisted to deflect the second—his shield reforming into a blade that caught Cocolia's weapon mid-thrust. Dodged the third by phasing, his body flickering through space to avoid the killing blow entirely.

Color returned.

Xander staggered, blood running from his nose. The shields March and Gepard had placed on him were cracked, barely holding together.

"Again!" he shouted.

March was already moving, her hands glowing with cyan light as she formed fresh barriers. Gepard slammed his fist into the ground, and pillars of ice erupted around Xander, creating layered defenses.

Bronya moved.

Seele heard the SLAM before she understood what was happening. Bronya drove the stock of her rifle into the ground, and power surged through Seele's body like lightning in her veins. Speed. Strength. The world sharpened around her, every detail suddenly crisp and clear. Her muscles sang with borrowed power, and she knew—Bronya had just used her abilities to enhance every "soldier" in her command.

Seele didn't waste the gift.

She activated her quantum leap and moved.

The world fractured into afterimages as she crossed the distance between herself and Cocolia. Blue and purple light trailed in her wake, quantum butterflies manifesting and dissolving with each step. She came at Cocolia from behind, her scythe already swinging in a wide arc aimed at the corrupted woman's spine.

The blade connected.

But only just.

Cocolia twisted at the last instant, and instead of cleaving her in half, Seele's scythe carved a deep gash across her back, crystalline fragments scattering like broken glass. The Stellaron-corrupted body hissed and steamed where Seele had struck, dark energy leaking from the wound like blood made of night.

Seele leaped back immediately, trusting her instincts.

Good thing she did.

Monochrome reality snapped into place.

Cocolia's form blurred. She spun with impossible speed, the corrupted lance extending toward where Seele had just been standing. The attack would have bisected her at the waist.

But Xander was there.

He appeared in a flash of gold, his shield catching the lance mid-swing. The impact sent shockwaves rippling through the air. Xander's feet skidded backward, boots leaving molten tracks in the permafrost. His shield arm trembled violently.

The barriers March and Gepard had placed on him shattered like glass.

Color returned with a rush.

"SHIELDS!" Xander roared, desperation cutting through his voice.

March and Gepard responded instantly. Ice and blue light converged on Xander, wrapping him in fresh layers of protection. But Seele could see the cost written on their faces—sweat beading on March's forehead despite the freezing air, Gepard's hands shaking as he channeled more power.

The sky above Cocolia lit up with electricity. Serval stood with her guitar raised high, her fingers flying across the strings in a riff that made the air itself vibrate. Thunder answered her call. Lightning rained down in jagged bolts that struck Cocolia from a dozen angles at once, each impact illuminating her twisted form in stark relief.

Cocolia screamed.

The sound was inhuman—a chorus of agony that set Seele's teeth on edge.

But Serval wasn't finished. She transitioned into a new rhythm, and the lightning followed, adapting to her tempo. Strike. Strike. Strike. Each bolt perfectly timed to the beat she hammered out on her instrument.

Natasha joined the assault. The doctor's cannon-launcher thumped once, twice, three times. Grenades arced through the air, trailing smoke, and detonated against Cocolia's barriers in bursts of plasma and fire. The explosions merged with Serval's lightning, creating a hellish cocktail of elemental fury.

Then March fired.

The arrow she loosed wasn't made of ice. Seele caught the glint of something metallic, something Xander must have given her. The projectile struck Cocolia dead center, and for a heartbeat, nothing happened.

Then it combusted.

Fire erupted around Cocolia, not natural flames but something hotter, something that ate through her crystalline armor like acid through flesh. The plasma from Natasha's grenades fed the fire. Serval's electricity added to it, turning the entire area around the corrupted Supreme Guardian into a maelstrom of destruction.

Seele shielded her eyes against the glare.

The world went monochrome.

No—

Cocolia emerged from the flames like a vengeful spirit, her form barely visible through the gray haze. She moved with terrifying purpose, the corrupted lance leading her charge straight toward Serval.

The musician didn't see it coming. She was still focused on her guitar, fingers dancing across strings, completely exposed.

Xander's Chronosurge screamed to life.

He crossed the distance in a blink, his body leaving trails of golden embers through colorless reality. His shield manifested just as Cocolia's lance was about to pierce Serval's heart.

GONG.

The impact was catastrophic. The sound alone made Seele's ears ring. Xander's shield didn't just crack—it exploded, fragments of golden light scattering like shrapnel. The force of the blow sent him flying backward, his body tumbling through the air before crashing into the frozen ground ten meters away.

Color returned.

March screamed something Seele couldn't hear over the ringing in her ears. Both she and Gepard were already running toward Xander, their hands glowing as they prepared to layer him with every defensive technique they possessed.

Xander pushed himself up on one elbow, blood pouring from his nose and mouth. His entire body was shaking, wreathed in smoke and embers. "I'm... I'm good," he managed to gasp out. "Just... keep the shields coming..."

The barriers went up around him immediately—ice from March, blue light from Gepard, layer upon layer of protection that made him look like he was trapped in a crystalline cocoon.

Silence reigned for a heartbeat.

Two.

The barrage had ended. Smoke rose from the scorched ground where Cocolia had been standing, thick and black, obscuring everything.

Seele dared to hope. Just for a second. Maybe the volley had been effective. Maybe Cocolia was, at the very least, incapacitated. Maybe they'd actually—

Two massive shapes erupted from the smoke.

Ice spears. No, not spears—totems. Each one was easily four meters tall and half a meter wide, their surfaces covered in strange runes that glowed with the same sickly light as Cocolia's eyes. They slammed into the ground with enough force to crack the permafrost, one appearing directly to Seele's left, the other to her right.

She threw herself backward, her quantum abilities activating on pure instinct. The totem where her head had been a split second ago hummed with building power.

Across from her, Xander dove in the opposite direction, rolling to his feet with his shield manifested once more—though Seele could see how much smaller it was now, how the golden light flickered and sputtered.

"GEPARD! MARCH!" Xander's voice was hoarse, strained. "Everyone else, get behind them! NOW!"

Seele didn't question it. She sprinted toward where Gepard was already positioning himself, his shield raised. March moved to flank him, her own barriers flickering to life. Bronya grabbed Serval's arm and hauled the musician behind cover. Natasha was already there, reloading her cannon with practiced efficiency.

The totems began to buzz.

The sound burrowed into Seele's skull, a high-pitched whine that made her want to claw at her ears. The runes along the ice spears blazed bright enough to blind, and then—

They pulsed.

Icy wind exploded from the totems in twin torrents of frozen death. The wind didn't just blow—it consumed. Seele watched as chunks of earth were ripped free and shredded into dust. The permafrost shattered into fragments smaller than sand. The wind tore at their combined shields with the force of a thousand blades, each gust strong enough to flay skin from bone.

Gepard's barrier held. Barely.

Cracks spiderwebbed across the crystalline surface of his shield. March poured more power into her own defenses, ice forming and reforming as fast as the wind could destroy it. Xander stood at the edge of their protective barrier, his own flames flickering weakly, adding what little strength he had left to their combined defense.

The wind screamed.

Seele pressed herself flat against the barrier, making herself as small as possible. If not for the combined strength of Xander's, March's, and Gepard's shields, those winds would have done more than blow them away. They would have ripped them to shreds while they tumbled through the air, painting the frozen wasteland red.

The world flashed gray.

Shit—

Cocolia appeared inside their defensive perimeter.

She'd used Chronosurge to bypass their shields entirely, materializing in the space between Gepard and March with her lance already thrusting toward Bronya's exposed back.

Xander moved.

His Chronosurge activated with a sound like reality tearing. He appeared between Cocolia and Bronya, his shield raised, his body already positioned to intercept.

GONG.

The lance struck his shield dead center. Xander's feet dug trenches through the frozen earth as he was driven backward. The barriers March and Gepard had placed on him earlier were already gone—shattered from previous impacts. His own shield was cracking, golden light leaking from dozens of fractures.

Color returned.

"NOW!" Xander screamed through gritted teeth.

Gepard's fist blazed with blue light. He drove it into the ground, and a pillar of ice erupted directly beneath Cocolia, launching her upward and away from the group. March followed up immediately, her bow singing as she loosed three arrows in rapid succession, each one trailing cyan light.

Cocolia twisted in mid-air, batting away two of the arrows. The third struck her shoulder, detonating in a burst of ice that sent crystalline shards flying.

She landed on her feet twenty meters away, her burning eyes fixed on Xander.

"Persistent," the Stellaron's chorus hissed through her throat. "But flesh has limits. Your body is already breaking. I can see it. How many more times can you move through broken time before your bones turn to dust?"

Xander didn't answer. He was too busy coughing up blood.

March and Gepard moved to his sides immediately, their hands already glowing as they prepared to layer him with fresh shields. But Seele could see the exhaustion written on their faces. March's hands were shaking. Gepard's breathing came in ragged gasps.

They were genuinely making the strongest shields they could come up with and the madwoman was just shattering them each single time.

They couldn't keep this up forever.

"HOLD!"

Xander's scream cut through the chaos.

March and Gepard both leaped to the left, repositioning themselves directly in front of where Serval and Natasha crouched. A split second later, a volley of ice spears—smaller than the totems but just as deadly—slammed into the space they'd just vacated. Each one was the size and weight of a steel beam, and they struck the newly-formed shield with enough force to send hairline fractures racing across its surface.

The impact drove both March and Gepard to one knee.

But that wasn't the real attack.

The world went gray.

Cocolia's form blurred through monochrome reality, her lance leading her charge. She came at them from above this time, descending like a meteor with her weapon aimed at March's skull.

Xander's Chronosurge activated.

He appeared in the air between them, his shield manifested horizontally to catch the descending blow. The lance struck with enough force to create a shockwave that flattened the snow in a perfect circle around the impact point.

GONG.

Xander's shield shattered completely. The lance pierced through the fragments and caught him in the shoulder, driving deep into flesh and bone. Blood sprayed through colorless air.

Color rushed back.

Xander and Cocolia both fell. Xander hit the ground hard, the lance still embedded in his shoulder. Cocolia landed gracefully, her hand already reaching for her weapon to wrench it free and strike again.

"GET OFF HIM!" March screamed.

Ice erupted from the ground beneath Cocolia's feet, forming a cage that enclosed her completely. Gepard added his own power to the prison, blue light reinforcing the bars until they glowed like captured starlight.

Cocolia's laughter echoed from within the cage. "Futile."

She simply left.

Chronosurge activated, and she vanished from inside the ice prison, reappearing ten meters away without so much as disturbing the bars.

Natasha was already at Xander's side, her hands glowing with healing energy. She grabbed the lance and pulled, wrenching it free in one smooth motion. Xander's scream was cut off as Natasha's palm pressed against the wound, sealing it with emergency first aid.

"You're burning through your body," Natasha said, her voice clinical despite the fear in her eyes. "One more clash like that and you're done. Your skeleton won't hold together."

"Noted," Xander gasped. Then, louder: "March! Gepard! I need every shield you've got!"

They didn't hesitate. Both of them poured their remaining strength into creating barriers around Xander—ice and blue light forming a cocoon so dense Seele could barely see him through it.

The totems began to glow again, preparing for another round of deadly wind. And in the center of it all, rising from the scorched ground like a phoenix from ashes, Cocolia's form became visible once more.

Her body was damaged. Chunks of crystalline armor had been blown away, revealing the nebulae patterns beneath. Dark energy leaked from dozens of wounds, and one of her arms hung at an unnatural angle.

But even as Seele watched, the wounds began to close.

The crystalline structures reformed. The arm straightened. The dark energy stopped leaking and started to glow with renewed power. Within seconds, Cocolia looked as fresh as if the combined assault had never happened.

"Seele! Bronya!" Xander's voice cut through her shock, muffled by the layers of shields around him. "The spears! Take them down!"

He didn't wait for a response. The shields around him dissolved as he activated Chronosurge and launched himself at Cocolia. The shockwave from his acceleration made Seele stumble even at this distance. The two figures met in a blur of gold and corrupted light—

Everything went monochrome.

Seele's quantum abilities let her perceive what happened next in horrifying detail.

Xander and Cocolia clashed in the space between seconds. His shield against her lance. Once. Twice. Three times. Four. Each impact sent ripples through colorless reality, each exchange happening faster than human eyes could follow.

GONG GONG GONG GONG GONG—

The sound blurred into a single sustained note, a bell being rung by a madman. Xander's shield cracked further with each parry. Cocolia's lance chipped his defenses away piece by piece, golden fragments scattering through gray air.

On the fifth clash, Xander's shield shattered completely.

Cocolia's lance drove forward, aimed at his heart.

Xander twisted, taking the blow on his ribs instead of through his chest. The lance punched through his side, exiting out his back in a spray of blood that looked black in the colorless world.

Color returned.

Both combatants staggered apart. Cocolia stumbled backward, her lance withdrawn. Xander collapsed to one knee, his hand pressed against the hole in his side.

"XANDER!" March's scream was raw with terror.

But Seele had her orders.

She called on her power and felt the familiar tingle of quantum energy responding. A sea of butterflies rose from the ground around her feet, each one a fragment of possibility made manifest. Blue and purple light danced across her skin.

Beside her, Bronya slammed her rifle into the ground.

The thump resonated through Seele's bones. Bronya's ability—that strange, reality-bending technique she had explained when they were preparing for this fight, but that Seele didn't really fully understand—activated with a sound like gears clicking into place.

Funny thing Bronya was capable of doing: the repeating of an event or action from anyone she viewed as a soldier under her wing and command. It was the most bizarre thing Seele had ever seen or heard when Bronya explained it to her—something about marking moments in time and then forcing reality to play them back, like rewinding a recording but only for specific people.

But Seele had learned not to question it. She just had to trust.

She leaped.

The first ice totem was already beginning to discharge its lethal wind. Seele crossed the distance in a heartbeat, her quantum abilities carrying her forward in a streak of purple light. She swung her scythe with every ounce of enhanced strength Bronya had given her.

The blade connected with the ice spear and sang.

The totem shattered. Fragments exploded outward, each piece dissolving into mist before it could hit the ground. The runes flickered and died, the deadly wind dissipating into nothing more than a cold breeze.

One down.

Seele spun toward the second totem, already raising her scythe for another strike.

Too late.

The second spear was already glowing, its runes blazing bright, the buzz reaching a fever pitch. In another second, it would unleash its payload, and Seele was still too far away to reach it.

Cocolia smiled. The void-skull that served as her face somehow managed to convey satisfaction.

"Too late," the Stellaron chorused through her ruined throat.

Or so she thought.

Reality hiccupped.

One moment, Seele was ten meters away from the second totem. The next, she stood directly beside it, her scythe already in motion. Her body moved without her conscious input, following a script written two seconds in the past. She felt like a passenger in her own skin, watching herself swing the blade in a perfect mirror of the strike she'd just executed on the first totem.

Bronya's ability.

The action had happened once in reality. Now it happened twice.

Seele's scythe cleaved through the second ice spear as if the last few seconds had simply rewound and played out again with a different target. The totem exploded into mist and forgotten frost.

The sight was enough to make even the Stellaron pause.

Cocolia's burning eyes went wide—as wide as a void-skull's eyes could go. Shock registered across her twisted features, and for just an instant, her attention wavered.

Just an instant.

But it was enough.

Everything went gray.

Xander accelerated through Chronosurge and moved, materializing behind Cocolia with his pistol already drawn. He fired. Once, twice, three times, four—the shots came so fast they sounded like a single sustained burst through monochrome reality. Each bullet struck Cocolia in the back, punching through her crystalline armor.

Color returned.

The bullets detonated inside her body. Dark electricity erupted from the wounds, arcing across her form in jagged bolts. She convulsed, her scream cutting off mid-breath as her nervous system—or whatever the Stellaron used in place of one—overloaded.

But the wounds began to heal immediately. Flesh knitting back together, crystalline structures reforming. The dark energy erupting from the wounds sizzled, but the chorus of voices that followed was worse—a sound of chilling, discordant amusement. "A familiar desperation," the Stellaron crooned. "First, fists in a dark alley. Now, bullets on a frozen field. You only know how to mimic the violence that broke you. Is this all you are, abomination? An echo of filth?"

"Not quite," Xander said, his voice weak.

He leaped backward, putting distance between himself and Cocolia, just as the sky above her lit up.

Thunder and electricity slammed into her from directly overhead. Serval's guitar riff had changed again, transitioning into something faster, more aggressive. The lightning came down in sheets, each bolt thicker than a man's arm, and they struck Cocolia in a relentless barrage that turned the ground beneath her feet into molten glass.

Cocolia's screams were drowned out by the sound of Serval's guitar.

The musician's face was a mask of concentration, her fingers flying across the strings so fast they blurred. Sweat dripped down her temples despite the freezing air. But she didn't slow down. If anything, she increased the tempo, and the lightning responded, growing fiercer with every note.

Xander collapsed to his knees, blood pouring from his mouth. The hole in his side was still bleeding despite Natasha's earlier treatment. March and Gepard were at his sides immediately, their hands glowing as they poured energy and fresh shields into him.

"Stay with us," March whispered, tears streaming down her face. "Please, just stay with us."

Bronya stepped forward.

Tears streaked down her face, carving clean lines through the dirt and ash that coated her skin. But her hands were steady as she raised her rifle and took aim at the woman who had once been her mother. Righteous fury burned in her eyes, bright enough to rival the lightning above.

She pulled the trigger.

The rifle cracked, and the bullet struck Cocolia in the chest, punching through already-weakened armor. Cocolia staggered, one hand clutching at the wound.

Then Bronya slammed the rifle stock into the ground.

Once.

Seele was already moving before the echo of the first impact faded. She knew what was coming. Bronya's ability had marked her, had written her next action into the fabric of reality, ready to be played back at the commander's signal.

She leaped.

Her scythe sang through the air, and Cocolia—still reeling from the gunshot, still being battered by Serval's lightning—didn't see the attack coming until it was too late.

The blade caught her right arm just below the shoulder.

Seele put every ounce of strength into the strike. The scythe's edge bit deep, carving through crystalline armor and corrupted flesh and cosmic horror all in one clean motion. The arm came off, severed completely, and tumbled through the air trailing streamers of dark energy.

Cocolia's scream could have shattered mountains.

Seele didn't stop to admire her handiwork. She felt more than saw Xander grabbing her by the collar with his good arm and yanking, hauling her backward with the last of his enhanced strength as another volley of grenades courtesy of Natasha arced through the air. They detonated against Cocolia's damaged form in a series of WHUMP WHUMP WHUMP explosions that merged with Serval's thunder into a single sustained roar of destruction.

Seele hit the ground hard, rolled, came up in a crouch.

The severed arm dissolved into mist before it could hit the ground. And above them, reality began to tear.

Ice lances appeared in the air. Not one or two or even ten. Dozens of them. Maybe a hundred. They materialized in a perfect circle around the battlefield, each one as long as Seele was tall, their points aimed inward at the group.

Cocolia stood at the center of the circle, her right arm—somehow, somehow!—already regenerating, her burning eyes fixed on them with undiluted hatred.

The ice lances began to rotate.

Slowly at first. Then faster. They spun like the teeth of a massive saw, the air itself screaming as they picked up speed. The circle tightened, collapsing inward, transforming into a dome of frozen death that surrounded them completely.

A wall of ice lances. A dome of doom.

Then they launched.

Every single lance fired at once, converging on their position from all directions. The sound was like an avalanche given voice, a sustained ROAR that drowned out everything else.

"SHIELDS!" Gepard bellowed.

He and March moved in perfect synchronization, their powers manifesting simultaneously. Gepard's ice erupted from the ground, forming a dome that enclosed the entire group. March's barriers layered over it, adding geometric patterns of frozen reinforcement. The two techniques merged, becoming something stronger than either could create alone.

The first wave of ice lances struck.

The dome shuddered. Cracks appeared and were immediately sealed by fresh ice. Another wave hit. Then another. The barrage was relentless, each lance slamming into their defenses with the force of a battering ram. Seele could hear Gepard grunting with effort, feel March's strain through the way the air inside their shelter grew colder with each second.

Outside, the lances kept coming. They struck in an endless percussion, a drumbeat of annihilation that refused to stop.

Inside the dome, Natasha moved to Xander.

The man was on his knees, his body radiating heat like a furnace. Steam rose from his skin where sweat evaporated instantly. His breathing came in ragged gasps, and his eyes—those golden eyes—had begun to flicker, the light inside them dimming and flaring erratically. Blood soaked through his coat from multiple wounds that Natasha's healing could barely keep up with, only managing thanks to the Stellaron powering him from within.

"Fuck," he managed to force out through gritted teeth. "That thing is really pushing me to overuse this."

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The dome shuddered again. Another lance struck, and Seele felt the impact through her boots, through her bones.

Bronya's voice cut through the percussion of death battering their shelter. "I don't understand. Why are you struggling so much with this?" She didn't look at Xander while she spoke—her attention stayed fixed on the cracks spreading across the ice above them. "The Preservation should be compensating for the strain. Your body should be able to withstand this."

Xander opened his mouth to answer.

March dropped to her knees beside him first. Her hands glowed with soft blue light as she pressed them against his shoulders, ice crystals forming where her fingers touched his skin. Steam hissed where cold met the furnace-heat radiating from his body.

"It doesn't work that way." March's voice was tight, controlled. The girl who loved taking pictures had been replaced by someone who understood exactly how bodies broke and how little time they had left. "I'm a Pathstrider of Preservation too. The Path helps hold everything together—keeps the pieces from flying apart—but the damage is still there." She winced as another impact shook the dome. "It just stops you from completely breaking down."

Seele watched Xander's jaw clench. Sweat dripped from his chin, evaporating before it could hit the ground.

March's hands moved to his temples, more ice forming, more steam rising. "His body is experiencing every single second of Chronosurge. Every time he accelerates, every time his heart tries to keep pace with speeds it was never designed for—the Preservation prevents him from falling apart, but it doesn't stop him from feeling it."

Gepard grunted from his position maintaining the dome. "What about Cocolia? She's been using Chronosurge just as much."

"Belobog's Stellaron is fundamentally different." Xander's voice came out rough, like he'd swallowed gravel. "It's a seed of Destruction. Pure Nanook energy. When it uses Chronosurge through Cocolia's body, it forces me to match those speeds or I die." He sucked in a breath through his teeth. "Her body takes damage too—corruption, cellular breakdown, all sorts of things—but the Stellaron heals it as fast as it happens."

The dome cracked. Really cracked this time. A fracture the width of Seele's fist split the ice directly above Gepard's head.

"Hold on," the captain rasped.

Fresh ice poured into the gap. March's barriers reinforced it. But Seele could see the strain on both their faces, the way their hands shook with the effort of maintaining something that refused to stay maintained.

Serval stepped forward, her guitar still crackling with residual electricity. "Then why are we still fighting?" The question came out sharp, almost angry. "If we just hunker down and wait, you said Cocolia's body will eventually give out, right? We have shields. The three of you working together have been able to stop everything she's thrown at us so far." She gestured at the dome above them. "And she doesn't have the Engine of Creation anymore. Dan Heng destroyed it. She can't use it to finish what she started."

Silence.

Xander's breathing had started to even out. The steam rising from his shoulders thinned as March's cooling technique did its work. When he spoke, his voice carried a weight that made Seele's stomach drop.

"The Stellaron doesn't need the Engine to accomplish its goal."

Outside, the barrage continued. Lance after lance, an endless drumbeat.

"The Engine was just the most convenient option," Xander said. "The most efficient tool Cocolia had access to through her position as Supreme Guardian. Now that it's gone?" He lifted his head, and the golden light in his eyes pulsed once, twice. "The Stellaron will find another way. Another tool. Another method of destruction."

Bronya's rifle lowered slightly. "What exactly are you saying?"

"I'm saying that if we give it time—if we just wait and let it think, let it adapt—we've already lost." Another impact. The dome shuddered. "The Stellaron will shift its strategy. It might trigger a seismic event directly. It might corrupt the Fragmentum in ways we haven't seen before and can't predict. Or—" He coughed, and blood flecked his lips. "—it might do something we haven't even thought of yet."

Natasha moved to his side, her hands already glowing with Abundance healing. She pressed two fingers to his wrist, checking his pulse.

"The only reason it hasn't tried that something else already," Xander continued, "is because we keep forcing it to regenerate Cocolia's body. Every time we attack, every wound we manage to inflict—the Stellaron has to prioritize healing over anything else. We're keeping it reactive instead of proactive."

Seele's scythe felt heavy in her hands. She looked at the dome above them, at the cracks spreading like spiderwebs across its surface, and understood what he was saying.

They were damned if they kept fighting. Damned if they didn't.

"But if you keep this up—" Serval started.

"Doc." Xander cut her off, his eyes finding Natasha. "Give it to me straight. How bad is the damage?"

The doctor's face could have been carved from stone. She withdrew her hands from his wrist and placed them flat against his chest, right where Cocolia had carved that massive gash across his torso earlier. Golden light pulsed beneath his skin, responding to her Abundance techniques, but sluggishly. Like oil trying to mix with water.

"If you think I'm about to tell you that you're cleared for combat," Natasha said, her voice completely flat, "then you're severely mistaken."

The dome cracked again. Louder this time. A chunk of ice the size of Seele's head broke free and tumbled inward before dissolving into mist.

Natasha didn't flinch. "But given our current circumstances—" She pressed harder against his chest, and Xander's breath hitched. "—I can't stop you. You'll just have to grit your teeth and bear it. I don't have anesthetics strong enough for what you're about to put yourself through."

A smile tugged at the corner of Xander's mouth. It looked wrong on a face streaked with blood and ash, but there it was anyway. "Wouldn't be the first time."

Bronya stepped closer. "Can you still use the technique you showed us in the mine?" Her eyes held something between hope and desperation. "When we fought Svarog's automatons. That move where you—"

"Chronosurge: Rend." Xander nodded once, sharp. "Yes, I can still use it. But it'll burn through what's left of my stamina much faster than normal Chronosurge. Three, maybe four times faster." He flexed his hand, and embers drifted from his fingertips. "If I use that technique, my body will give out. Not 'might.' It will."

Another impact. Another crack spreading across the dome's surface.

"But our last coordinated attack was effective," Bronya said, her words coming quick and urgent. "The combined assault—Serval's lightning, Natasha's grenades, Seele's scythe strike, your bullets—we hurt it badly. If we can create one more opening like that, one more chance to coordinate a full attack..." She trailed off.

The math hung in the air between them, unspoken but understood by everyone. One more opening might be enough to finish this fight. Or it might not be. But staying on the defensive guaranteed that the Stellaron would eventually adapt and find its something else, and then nothing they did would matter anymore.

The silence was uncomfortable. More than uncomfortable.

"Commander, I don't think—" Xander started.

March grabbed his shoulder, her grip firm. "You need to trust us." The words came out fierce, carrying an edge of command that didn't match her usual cheerful demeanor. "You're not fighting this alone. You've never been fighting alone, even when you kept acting like you were."

The dome shuddered violently. This time, a whole section near the top buckled inward, and Gepard actually staggered, his knees threatening to buckle under the strain. March's face went pale, but she immediately poured more power into her barriers, her jaw set with the kind of determination that could crack diamonds.

She shot Xander a look that was equal parts reassurance and barely-controlled panic. "Also, you don't really get to refuse right now because this dome is about to collapse!"

Seele almost laughed at the absurdity of the timing. Almost. The sound died in her throat before it could escape.

Xander closed his eyes. His breathing evened out, slowed down, became something deliberate and measured. When he opened them again, the golden light blazed steady and sure.

"Alright. Let's do this."

His Neuromorphic Armament materialized in his hand—not a shield this time, but a sword. The blade gleamed with inner fire, embers trailing from its edge like blood dripping from a fresh wound.

The dome shuddered again, more violently.

"Everyone hold your positions," Xander said, his voice cutting through the chaos.

Seele felt every muscle in her body tense. Around her, the others did the same. Bronya raised her rifle. Serval's fingers found their positions on her guitar strings. Natasha's cannon settled into the crook of her arm, ready.

Outside, the barrage intensified. The percussion of ice lances striking their shelter became a sustained roar, and the dome—

"It's failing!" Gepard's voice cracked with strain. "We have maybe ten seconds before it gives out completely!"

March's barriers shattered all at once. The geometric patterns of ice that had been reinforcing Gepard's technique dissolved into glittering dust, and March actually cried out in pain, the feedback from the broken Preservation hitting her like a physical blow.

"Keep holding!" Xander's command cut through everything else.

Seele's heart hammered against her ribs. She started counting seconds in her head. One. Two. The dome buckled further, more cracks spreading. Three. Four. Chunks of ice began raining down on them from the interior. Five. Six.

Gepard's shield started cracking from the inside out, fractures spreading like lightning across glass.

Seven. Eight.

"HOLD IT!"

Nine—

The dome shattered.

Reality turned monochrome.

Seele's perception stretched, dilated, caught in the wake of Xander's Chronosurge activation. She watched—could only watch—as hundreds of ice lances punched through where the dome had been. Each one moved in slow motion through the colorless world, their wicked points aimed at soft flesh and vital organs.

One lance headed straight for Bronya's throat.

Another for Serval's heart.

Three more converged on Gepard's exposed back.

Xander moved.

No, that wasn't right. He didn't move. He existed in multiple places simultaneously, his form blurring into afterimages that left trails of golden fire through the gray world. His sword sang—a high, crystalline note that cut through the silence like a bell.

The first lance shattered. Then the second. Third. Fourth. He carved through them with surgical precision, each strike placed exactly where it needed to be to deflect the killing blow or destroy the projectile entirely.

Fifty lances destroyed. A hundred. More.

Seele could see the strain on his face even through the time dilation. Blood vessels burst in his eyes, turning the whites red. His lips pulled back from his teeth in a grimace of pure agony. But he didn't stop. Couldn't stop.

Behind the first wave, a second volley materialized.

Seele's quantum-enhanced perception caught it even in the frozen moment—Cocolia's backup plan. Ice lances formed in the space where their broken dome had been, positioned to strike the instant the first wave was dealt with.

Xander saw it too.

His eyes widened. Just a fraction. Just enough for Seele to know he understood what that second volley would cost him.

He activated Rend anyway.

The world screamed.

Everything within a specific radius turned monochrome even to Seele's already-altered perception—layers of gray upon gray, reality folding in on itself. For barely a second, the world didn't just slow. It stopped.

Then Xander's sword became a storm.

Seele lost count of the strikes. His movements transcended anything her eyes could track, even with quantum butterflies dancing around her vision trying to parse what was happening. The second volley of lances—easily a hundred strong, maybe more—didn't just shatter. They disintegrated. Reduced to powder so fine it might as well have never existed.

Color rushed back into the world like a tidal wave.

Xander collapsed.

He hit the ground face-first, his sword clattering from nerveless fingers and dissolving back into light. Blood poured from his nose, his ears, the corners of his eyes. His chest heaved with ragged breaths that sounded wet and broken, like something inside had torn loose.

But even as he fell, his hand moved. Trembling. Barely able to lift itself from the frozen earth.

Golden light pulsed weakly from his palm.

Shields of Preservation erupted around the group. Not barriers like Gepard made, not the geometric patterns March favored. These were translucent walls—solid and thrumming with power, radiating heat that pushed back against Jarilo-VI's bitter cold. They formed a perfect circle around everyone except Cocolia, each one positioned to deflect attacks from multiple angles.

Then Xander went completely still.

Seele's heart lurched into her throat. For a terrible second, she thought—

Natasha was already moving. The doctor dropped beside him with practiced efficiency, her hands glowing bright with Abundance energy as she pressed them against his neck to find a pulse.

"He's alive," she said after a moment that felt like an eternity. The relief in her voice was brief, professional, quickly locked away. "Unconscious. Probably better that way, considering what his body just went through."

"Then we need to finish this now." Gepard's voice came from behind Seele. She turned to find the captain back on his feet, his face set with grim determination despite the exhaustion written in every line of his body.

Bronya stepped forward, her rifle coming up. Tears still tracked down her face from the strain of watching Xander nearly kill himself to protect them, but her hands were steady. "Seele. Can you still move?"

Could she?

Seele did a quick internal check. Her quantum abilities still hummed in her veins, ready and waiting to be called upon. Her scythe felt light in her hands, almost eager.

"Yeah," she said. "I can move."

"Good." Bronya slammed the stock of her rifle into the ground with a resounding thump, and power flooded through Seele's body like liquid lightning.

This time it felt different from before. Not just enhanced speed and strength—this was something more fundamental. Seele felt her perception sharpen to a razor's edge, felt her muscles responding to commands before she'd even finished forming the thought, felt the quantum energy swirling around her singing in harmony with Bronya's technique.

Around her, the others experienced the same transformation. Gepard's eyes blazed with renewed vigor despite his injuries. Serval's guitar crackled with electricity that arced between the strings in visible sparks. March's hands glowed with ice so intensely cold the air around them crystallized into frost. Natasha's cannon hummed as it charged with more power than Seele had ever seen it hold.

"Now," Bronya said, and there was steel in her voice—the iron will of someone who'd decided that enough was enough, "we show that thing what happens when it threatens our home."

Seele didn't wait for speeches or battle cries.

She activated her quantum leap and launched herself at Cocolia. Blue and purple butterflies exploded in her wake, each one a fragment of possibility, a path through space she might have taken but didn't. The corrupted Supreme Guardian was still recovering from Xander's devastating Rend assault, her body smoking with damage, crystalline armor cracked and leaking dark energy.

Seele gave her no time to finish healing.

Her scythe carved a diagonal slash across Cocolia's chest, the blade biting deep through weakened armor. Dark energy sprayed from the wound like arterial blood, and Cocolia's scream—that horrible chorus of overlapping voices—cut off abruptly as Seele's momentum carried her past and away.

She didn't stop. Couldn't stop. Bronya's enhancement merged with her quantum abilities, creating something greater than either power alone. Seele fell into the rhythm of it, her body moving almost on instinct.

She struck from behind. From the left. From above. Each attack placed with precision born from years of fighting in the Underworld, each wound carved to maximize damage and minimize the Stellaron's ability to regenerate.

Then March joined the assault.

The pink-haired girl moved with a grace that seemed impossible for someone usually so cheerful and clumsy. Ice arrows flew from her bow in a continuous stream, each one finding gaps in Cocolia's damaged armor, each one detonating on impact with enough force to stagger the corrupted woman backward.

But March wasn't finished.

She raised her hand toward the sky, and the temperature around them plummeted so fast that Seele's next breath came out as a solid cloud of frost. Ice erupted from the ground directly beneath Cocolia's feet, climbing up her legs with impossible speed, encasing her torso, wrapping around her arms until the corrupted Supreme Guardian was buried in a prison that glittered like a malformed diamond.

March's face contorted with effort as she poured more power into the technique, and the ice thickened—layer upon layer building on itself until Cocolia was entombed in something that looked more like a glacier than a cage.

Gepard moved before the ice had finished forming completely.

The captain materialized beside the frozen prison with his fist already blazing with blue Preservation light. He drove it into the ice with a roar that seemed to come from somewhere deep in his chest, from years of holding the line against impossible odds. The impact created a shockwave that rippled through the frozen structure, visible cracks spreading from the point of contact.

But Gepard wasn't trying to shatter March's prison.

He was shaping it.

The cracks became channels—deliberate pathways carved through the ice with surgical precision. And down those channels, his Preservation energy flowed, mixing with March's technique, creating something hybrid. Something that burned with cold fire and froze with searing heat simultaneously.

Cocolia's prison transformed into a furnace of contradictions.

Serval's guitar screamed into the frozen air.

The musician had been building her technique while the others created their opening, her fingers dancing across strings in patterns so complex and rapid that Seele couldn't follow them even with her enhanced perception. Lightning answered Serval's call—not scattered bolts like before, but a storm. It coalesced above Cocolia's frozen prison, a roiling mass of electrical fury that turned the perpetual twilight of Jarilo-VI into temporary noon.

Serval brought her hand down across the strings in one final, devastating chord.

The lightning fell.

It struck the top of the ice prison and immediately followed the channels Gepard had carved, flooding every pathway with raw electrical power. The prison lit up from within like a lamp, bright enough to leave afterimages burned into Seele's vision even when she looked away. Inside the crystalline cage, Cocolia's scream rose above the thunder—wordless agony given voice by a chorus of the damned.

Natasha's cannon thumped with a sound that Seele felt in her bones.

The grenade arced through the air in a perfect trajectory, trailing smoke as it flew, and punched straight through the weakened top of the ice prison. For a single heartbeat, nothing happened.

Then the grenade detonated inside Cocolia's cage.

The explosion came from within rather than without. Superheated plasma erupted outward, finding every crack and flaw in the ice prison and exploiting them. The plasma mixed with Serval's lingering lightning, feeding on the electrical charge, growing hotter and more violent with each passing second. The prison didn't just crack—it shattered from the inside out, chunks of ice spinning away in all directions as the forces contained within finally broke free.

Cocolia stumbled out of the wreckage.

Her body was damaged beyond anything they'd managed to inflict before. One arm hung completely limp, the crystalline structure that had replaced her flesh shattered and leaking dark energy like blood. Her chest had a crater where Natasha's grenade had detonated, exposing the swirling nebulae patterns beneath her corrupted armor. Dark energy poured from dozens of smaller wounds across her body, and her burning eyes—those horrible golden eyes rimmed with red—flickered weakly like candles struggling against a strong wind.

Bronya stepped forward with her rifle already raised.

The commander's face was a mask of conflicting emotions—daughter warring with soldier, love fighting against duty. Seele could see the internal struggle playing out across Bronya's features, see the way her hands trembled ever so slightly as she took aim at the woman who had raised her.

For a moment, Seele thought Bronya might hesitate. Might falter.

Duty won.

"For Belobog," Bronya whispered, her voice barely audible over the wind.

She pulled the trigger.

The bullet struck Cocolia directly between the eyes, punching through the void-skull that served as her face. The corrupted Supreme Guardian's head snapped backward violently. She teetered on unsteady legs, her arms windmilling as her body tried desperately to recover a balance it would never find again.

Bronya slammed her rifle stock into the frozen ground.

Once. Twice. Three times in rapid succession.

Reality stuttered around them.

Seele felt herself moving without any conscious decision, her body following a script that had been written into the fabric of reality seconds before. She appeared beside Cocolia with her scythe already in motion, the blade singing through the air. It caught the corrupted woman under the ribs and ripped upward with terrible force, carving a canyon through her torso that leaked dark energy like a river.

Seele leaped backward immediately, trusting Bronya's ability.

Gepard appeared in the space she'd just vacated, his fist blazing with concentrated Preservation energy. He drove it directly into the wound Seele had opened, and power detonated inside Cocolia's body with enough force to create a visible shockwave. The corrupted woman convulsed violently, her back arching at an angle that should have shattered her spine.

Gepard leaped away.

March appeared with her bow already drawn, an arrow of pure crystallized ice nocked and ready. She fired point-blank into Cocolia's chest. The arrow punched clean through corrupted flesh and armor, emerging from her back in a spray of dark energy and trailing streamers of cosmic horror.

March leaped away.

Natasha appeared with her cannon already charged and humming with barely-contained power. She pressed the barrel directly against Cocolia's stomach without hesitation and fired. The grenade detonated on contact, plasma and fire erupting from the wound in a geyser that lit up the entire frozen wasteland like a second sun.

Natasha leaped away.

Serval appeared with her guitar held like a club in both hands, electricity crackling along every inch of the instrument's body. She swung with her full strength, and the impact caught Cocolia across the side of her void-skull temple. Bones—or whatever the Stellaron had replaced them with—cracked audibly even over the sound of wind and dying fire.

Serval leaped away.

Bronya appeared one final time, her rifle already aimed directly at Cocolia's heart. "This ends now, Mother."

She pulled the trigger.

The bullet struck true, punching through the center of Cocolia's chest where a human heart would have been. Dark energy poured from the wound—not spurting or leaking, but flooding out in rivers that seemed far too vast to have been contained in a single body. The Stellaron's corruption spilled onto the snow beneath Cocolia's feet, staining the white ground black.

Cocolia staggered backward, her arms dropping limply to her sides. The burning light in her eyes flickered, dimmed, struggled to maintain itself against the overwhelming damage.

Serval didn't give her even a moment to recover.

The musician's fingers found the strings of her guitar again, and this time the melody that poured forth was different from anything she'd played before. Not aggressive. Not violent or furious. Something older than war. Something that carried the weight of centuries and sorrows.

The lightning that answered her call came down gently this time.

It wrapped around Cocolia like a cocoon, like a shroud, enveloping her damaged form in electrical grace rather than fury. And for one brief instant—so quick Seele almost missed it—she thought she saw something flicker beneath all that corruption. A ghost of humanity. A shadow of the woman who had once ruled Belobog with wisdom and strength and genuine love for her people.

Then Natasha's cannon roared one final time.

Three grenades fired in rapid succession, each one following the path of the last. They struck Cocolia's already-devastated form and detonated in a chain reaction, each explosion feeding energy into the next, building on itself exponentially. Plasma mixed with lingering electricity mixed with melting ice mixed with residual Preservation energy, and the resulting conflagration consumed everything in a sphere easily ten meters wide.

The light was blinding—bright enough that Seele had to throw up her hand to shield her eyes or risk permanent damage.

When the light finally faded and she could see again, smoke rose from scorched earth where Cocolia had been standing. Thick black smoke that smelled of ozone and burnt metal and something else Seele couldn't identify.

For a long moment, there was only the sound of wind across frozen ground and the soft crackle of dying embers.

Silence hung over the battlefield like a held breath.

Seele's grip tightened on her scythe until her knuckles went white. She scanned the smoke desperately, looking for any sign of movement, searching for something that would tell her whether they'd actually won or if this was just another lull before the next storm.

The others maintained their combat stances—weapons raised, bodies coiled and ready to spring into action at the slightest provocation.

The attack didn't come.

Instead, through the settling smoke and ash, they heard something else.

A voice. Faint. Weak. The words were indistinct at first, buried beneath the sound of wind and Gepard's labored breathing and March's quiet sobbing.

But the voice grew louder. More urgent. More desperate.

"Please..." The word drifted across the scorched earth. "Help..."

Bronya's head snapped toward the sound so fast Seele heard her neck crack. The commander's rifle came up automatically, muscle memory overriding conscious thought, but her hands were shaking badly now.

The smoke began to part, pushed aside by wind that seemed almost deliberate.

And Seele saw something that made absolutely no sense whatsoever.

Cocolia stood in the center of the scorched circle where she should have been nothing but ash and memory. But she wasn't the corrupted horror they'd been fighting—not the crystalline nightmare with a void-skull for a face and burning cosmic eyes.

She was just... Cocolia.

Human.

Her Supreme Guardian uniform hung in charred tatters, the once-pristine fabric burned and torn beyond recognition, exposing patches of skin that gleamed with a thin coating of ice. Frost clung to her arms, her neck, her face in delicate patterns. But underneath all the damage, underneath the frost and burns and evidence of their devastating assault, she looked normal. Human. Vulnerable.

"Bronya..." The name came out broken, threaded with desperation and pain. "Help me."

Bronya took a step forward without thinking. March's hand shot out and grabbed her arm, fingers digging in hard enough to leave bruises.

"Wait." The pink-haired girl's voice was tight with warning. "This could be—"

"A trap," Gepard finished, moving to position himself between Bronya and Cocolia. His shield materialized despite the obvious strain on his face, despite the way his hands trembled from exhaustion. "Commander, you need to stay back."

But Cocolia wasn't attacking. She wasn't summoning ice lances or activating Chronosurge or doing anything remotely threatening. She just stood there in the center of that scorched circle, her whole body trembling, her breath coming in short gasps that misted in the frozen air.

"I can't—" Her voice cracked, raw and desperate. "I can't hold it off for much longer. Please, you have to help me."

Seele's every instinct was screaming at her. This was wrong. Had to be wrong. People didn't just snap back from that kind of corruption like flipping a switch. The Stellaron had consumed Cocolia, had turned her into something that barely resembled anything human. And now she stood there looking like nothing more than a survivor pulled from wreckage?

Too convenient. Too perfect.

But Bronya was already trying to move forward again. Gepard's hand on her shoulder was the only thing holding her back, and even that was barely working. The commander's eyes were locked on the woman who had raised her, who had taught her everything she knew about leadership and duty.

"Mother?" The word came out small. Uncertain. Nothing like the confident commander who'd been directing their assault moments before.

Cocolia's head lifted slowly, painfully. Her eyes—just normal eyes now, not burning with cosmic fire—found Bronya's face and immediately filled with tears that spilled down her frost-covered cheeks.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, and the words carried across the frozen wasteland with heartbreaking clarity. "I'm so, so sorry for everything."

The apology hung in the cold air between them. Nobody moved. Nobody spoke. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.

Then Cocolia started talking, and the words poured out of her like water from a broken dam, desperate and rushed and raw.

"I was so desperate," she said, her hands clutching at the remains of her uniform, fingers digging into the charred fabric like she needed something to hold onto. "The Eternal Freeze kept getting worse no matter what we tried. The Fragmentum was spreading faster than we could possibly contain it. People were dying, Bronya. So many people." A sob caught in her throat. "I prayed to Qlipoth. Every single night. Every morning. I begged the Aeon for guidance, for help, for anything. But Qlipoth never answered me."

Serval's guitar hung loose in her hands now. She stared at Cocolia with an expression Seele couldn't quite read—something between anger and pity and confusion.

"And then the Stellaron whispered to me," Cocolia continued, her voice rising with panic and regret. "It promised solutions. Promised a way to save everyone, to preserve Belobog and all its people. I thought—" She squeezed her eyes shut, and more tears escaped. "I thought I could control it. I thought I could use its power without letting it consume me. I was so arrogant. So stupid."

Natasha had moved closer to where Xander lay unconscious, positioning herself between him and Cocolia. The doctor's face was carefully neutral, professionally blank, but her hand rested on her cannon.

"By the time I realized what was actually happening to me," Cocolia said, her voice dropping to barely above a whisper, "it was already too late. The Stellaron had invaded my thoughts. It made me see things that weren't real, made me believe things that couldn't possibly be true." She opened her eyes again, and they were wild with fear and confusion. "I don't even know anymore which memories are actually mine and which ones it planted in my head. I can't tell the difference."

Seele watched Bronya's face carefully. Saw the commander struggling to process this, to reconcile the absolute monster they'd just been fighting with the broken, desperate woman standing before them now.

"The Underworld," Cocolia continued, and her voice cracked completely on those words. "I sealed it off. Condemned all those people to slow death by starvation. The Stellaron made me believe they were infected with corruption, that they would spread it to the Overworld if I didn't quarantine them immediately. And I believed it. I actually believed it."

Her hands moved to her face, covering her eyes like she couldn't bear to see them anymore.

"And the people in Qlipoth Fort—Xenia, Yekaterina, all the others who questioned my decisions—I killed them." The confession came out flat, dead. "Their blood is on my hands because the Stellaron showed me visions of them plotting to assassinate you, Bronya. Showed me detailed plans of how they would murder my daughter. And I believed every single false vision it put in my head."

Natasha shifted slightly, moving even closer to Xander's prone form. The doctor's expression hadn't changed, but Seele noticed her grip on the cannon had tightened.

"But then something changed." Cocolia's hands lowered from her face, and she looked directly at Xander's unconscious body. "When he came back. When he landed on Jarilo-VI carrying Qlipoth's blessing, carrying his own Stellaron... something shifted inside me. The Stellaron within him—it resonated with mine somehow. Connected to it in a way I don't have words to explain."

March's eyes widened slightly. She glanced at Xander, then back at Cocolia, clearly working through the implications.

"Through that connection, I felt something change in my own Stellaron," Cocolia continued. "Like his was teaching mine something different. Showing it that there could be more than just endless destruction and corruption. That there was another way." She took a shaky breath. "It wasn't much. Just a crack in the cage it had built around my mind. But it was enough for me to start fighting back. To start pushing against its control."

It made sense, Seele had to admit. The logic was sound. Xander had said he'd tamed his Stellaron somehow, forced it to experience human emotions and thoughts. If that had created some kind of resonance between the two cosmic parasites, some kind of connection that allowed them to influence each other...

But even as the rational part of Seele's brain acknowledged the logic, her gut kept insisting something was fundamentally wrong about this entire situation.

Cocolia turned toward Serval now. The movement was slow and careful, like she was afraid any sudden gesture might shatter whatever fragile peace had settled over the battlefield.

"Serval Landau." Cocolia's voice broke on the name. "What I did to you was unforgivable. Completely unconscionable. You were getting too close to the truth about the Stellaron's existence, and I was terrified—absolutely terrified—that if you discovered what it really was, it would do something even worse to you. Take control of you the way it controlled me. Use your brilliant mind and your influence to hurt Belobog even more."

Serval's jaw clenched. She still didn't respond, didn't say a single word.

"It doesn't excuse what I put you through," Cocolia said quickly. "Nothing excuses it. The isolation, the public disgrace, the way I destroyed your reputation and your career. But I hope—" Her voice cracked again. "I hope that knowing the reason, knowing that I did it because I was trying to protect you in the only way the Stellaron would allow, gives you at least some small measure of peace."

Serval's expression shifted slightly, but she remained silent. Her fingers had stopped moving on her guitar strings.

"I don't have much time left." Cocolia's hands were trembling badly now, and Seele could see frost spreading further up her arms. "I can already feel it clawing at the edges of my consciousness again, trying to regain control. Trying to push me back down into the darkness where I can't interfere." She looked down at her hands like they belonged to someone else. "And I don't deserve anything after what I've done. Not your forgiveness. Not peace. Not even a quick death."

Her gaze found Bronya again, and fresh tears spilled down her face, cutting clean tracks through the frost and ash coating her skin.

"But I can at least die knowing that you will lead our people well," Cocolia said, her voice thick with emotion. "That you're surrounded by wonderful, strong companions who will support you and guide you and keep you safe when I can't anymore. That Belobog has a real future ahead of it, even if I won't be there to see it."

Bronya's rifle lowered. Just a fraction of an inch, but enough that Seele noticed. Enough that it was clear the commander's resolve was cracking.

Gepard noticed too. "Commander, we need to be careful—"

"Mother." Bronya's voice shook despite her obvious efforts to keep it steady. "When the Stellaron was showing you those visions... what exactly did it make you see? What did it show you about me?"

Cocolia's face crumpled like paper. Her whole body seemed to fold in on itself with the weight of whatever memory she was reliving.

"You," she whispered. "Dead. I saw you lying in Alexander's arms with your throat cut open, your eyes staring at nothing, your blood soaking into his coat." Her voice rose, becoming almost hysterical. "It showed me that vision over and over and over again until I couldn't think about anything else, couldn't breathe, couldn't sleep, couldn't do anything except scream and rage and want to burn the entire world down just to make the pain stop."

The words hit Bronya like a physical blow. She actually swayed on her feet, and March had to reach out with her free hand to steady her.

"But you're alive." Cocolia's laugh came out broken and wrong, verging on hysterical. "You're standing right here in front of me, alive and strong and so much better than I ever was. Which means it was all lies. Every single horrible thing it made me believe, every justification it whispered in my ear, every vision it burned into my mind—all of it was nothing but lies designed to break me."

Seele's scythe felt impossibly heavy in her hands. She watched the scene unfold in front of her, watched Bronya's carefully constructed defenses crumbling piece by piece, and tried desperately to identify exactly what was setting off every alarm bell in her head.

Because everything Cocolia was saying made perfect sense. Hit all the right emotional beats. Explained away her atrocities with just enough detail to be completely believable. The logic was sound, the emotions seemed genuine, the story held together without any obvious contradictions.

So why did it feel like she was watching a carefully rehearsed performance?

"Bronya." Cocolia held out one hand toward her daughter. Ice still clung to her fingers, frost spreading slowly up toward her wrist, but the gesture itself was unmistakably human. Unmistakably maternal. "I know I have absolutely no right to ask anything of you after everything I've done. But please... may I hold you? Just one last time before the Stellaron takes control again?"

Bronya looked at Gepard first. Then at March. Then her eyes found Seele's.

Seele wanted to scream no. Wanted to quantum leap forward and physically put herself between Bronya and whatever trap this had to be. But she had no proof. No evidence beyond a gut feeling born from too many years of surviving in the Underworld where blind trust got you killed.

Bronya took a step forward.

"Commander, wait just a moment—" Gepard started, his hand reaching for her arm.

"Stand down, Captain." Bronya's voice carried steel despite the tears streaming freely down her face now. "That's an order."

She walked toward Cocolia slowly, deliberately, her rifle hanging loose and forgotten at her side. Every step looked like it cost her something.

March made a small, distressed sound but didn't try to physically stop her. Seele noticed the pink-haired girl's hands were glowing faintly—ready to throw up a shield at the first sign of danger.

The distance between mother and daughter closed with agonizing slowness. Five meters. Three. One.

Bronya stepped into Cocolia's embrace.

Seele's muscles coiled tight, ready to activate her quantum leap the absolute instant something went wrong. But nothing happened. Cocolia just wrapped both arms around her daughter and held her tightly, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs that seemed to come from somewhere deep in her chest.

"I'm so sorry," Cocolia whispered into Bronya's hair, her voice muffled and broken. "I'm so, so sorry for everything."

Bronya clung to her mother, and for a long moment they looked like nothing more than any parent and child reunited after a terrible separation. Nothing monstrous. Nothing corrupted. Nothing cosmic or otherworldly. Just human.

Then Bronya pulled back slightly, wiping at her eyes with the back of one hand. When she spoke again, her voice had shifted back toward the commander's tone—still emotional but trying to be practical.

"We don't have much time if your control is only temporary," Bronya said. "We need to act quickly." She turned toward March. "Is there a way to extract the Stellaron safely? Can we seal it somehow?"

March's expression shifted immediately to something more focused and professional. "I'll contact Miss Himeko and Mr. Yang right away. They'll know what to do."

She pulled out her communication device, but instead of simply using it to make a call, she raised her free hand toward the empty air. Blue sparks materialized around her fingers, coalescing and forming into a structure that looked like it was made of twisted metal and concentrated light—a space anchor, manifesting right there on the frozen battlefield through sheer force of will.

"As a member of the Astral Express," March explained, her voice tight with concentration as she maintained the anchor, "I can set these up at specific coordinates. The others can use it to reach us directly once they're ready."

"How long will that take?" Bronya's question came out sharp and urgent.

March bit her lip, clearly unhappy with the answer she had to give. "I'm not sure exactly. They're still engaged with that Antimatter Legion armada near the system's edge. It could be just a few minutes if they can break away quickly, or it could take longer if the fighting is still intense."

"Kill me now."

Cocolia's words cut through everything else like a knife.

Bronya whirled around to face her. "What? No. Absolutely not, Mother. We're going to save you—"

"You can't save me, Bronya." Cocolia's voice was eerily calm now. Too calm, like she'd accepted something the rest of them were still fighting against. "I've already said everything I needed to say. Made what peace I could with my actions. The Stellaron is too strong, and my control is too fragile. If I lose this fight and it takes over again, I'll hurt you. I'll hurt all of you. So please, just end this before I become that monster again."

"Absolutely not." Bronya's hands clenched into white-knuckled fists at her sides. "We are getting that thing out of you, and you are going to live. You're going to help us rebuild everything that was broken. You're going to stand trial for your actions if necessary, but you're going to survive this. You're going to—"

"I'm afraid we can't actually do that."

Everyone turned to look at March. The pink-haired girl's face had gone grave, apologetic, like she was delivering news she really wished she didn't have to share.

"Can't do what?" Gepard asked carefully.

"Kill her." March gestured at Cocolia with one hand while maintaining the space anchor with the other. "She's got an active Stellaron inside her right now, and somehow she's managed to gain enough control over it to suppress its influence temporarily. If we kill her while the Stellaron is still active and connected to her, the energy released could destabilize catastrophically."

She paused, and her expression became even more serious.

"I really don't want to find out what happens when a Stellaron suddenly loses its host through violent death. The energy discharge alone could be devastating, and there's no telling what kind of chain reaction it might trigger."

Seele felt her stomach drop. There it was again—that specific phrase that had been bothering her without her being able to articulate why. Somehow she's managed to gain control of it.

Not "she fought back and won." Not "she overcame the corruption through force of will." Just... somehow she'd gained control.

Cocolia nodded slowly, as if this was exactly the answer she'd been expecting. "Then knock me unconscious at least. That way I won't be able to hurt anyone while we wait for your companions to arrive with a real solution."

"No." Bronya's voice was absolutely firm, carrying the full weight of her authority as commander. She turned to Gepard. "Captain. I need you to construct a protective dome around us. Keep it contained and secure until Himeko and Welt can get here."

Gepard let out a long sigh, but he was already moving into position. "As you command, Commander."

He positioned himself at a strategic point and blue light began gathering around his feet. Ice started forming at his will, growing upward in sheets that would eventually enclose them all.

Cocolia watched him work with an expression that might have been gratitude or resignation or both. "Gepard Landau," she said softly. "I'm truly sorry you had to witness my transformation into that... thing. Sorry for the burden I placed on your shoulders when I forced you to accompany me to Everwinter Hill." Her voice dropped even lower. "You tried to stop me from activating the Engine of Creation. You argued against it, warned me of the consequences. And I didn't listen to a single word you said."

Gepard's hands never stopped shaping the ice into the protective dome, but his jaw tightened visibly. He said nothing in response.

Serval, who had been completely silent through all of Cocolia's explanations and apologies, finally turned away. She walked over to where Xander still lay unconscious, where Natasha continued kneeling beside him with her hands glowing with healing energy.

"How is he doing?" Serval's voice was quiet, almost gentle.

Natasha's hands continued their work without pause. "He's stable for now. The Stellaron inside him is working to repair all the damage he inflicted on himself, but he pushed his body far beyond its limits with that Rend technique. He's going to need serious rest and—"

"He's waking up." Natasha's tone shifted abruptly to something more alert. "Everyone, Xander is regaining consciousness."

Seele's head whipped around so fast she felt something pop in her neck. Sure enough, Xander's eyes were fluttering open behind half-closed lids, his face contorting with obvious pain as awareness slowly returned.

And just like that, with perfect clarity, pieces clicked into place in Seele's mind like a lock finally opening.

She remembered a conversation from what felt like years ago but had only been days. Down in the Underworld, in one of their strategy sessions. Xander explaining to Bronya in careful, measured terms exactly why they had to kill Cocolia. Bronya arguing passionately that maybe her mother was still fighting the corruption somewhere deep inside, that maybe they could still reach her and save her.

And Xander's response, delivered with absolute certainty and something that might have been pity:

"Bronya. She isn't me."

Those three words echoed in Seele's head now, louder than March's excited exclamation of "He's actually awake!" Louder than Bronya asking Cocolia more careful questions about the Stellaron's influence and control.

She isn't me.

Xander had explained it to them back then. He had a unique physiology—something Herta herself had confirmed after extensive study. His body had been specifically designed or adapted or something to contain a Stellaron safely. He was stable in ways that defied normal understanding, in ways that shouldn't have been possible for a regular human being.

Cocolia was not Xander.

Cocolia was just a normal human woman who'd been corrupted by a Stellaron.

So how—how—had she suddenly gained enough control to suppress it?

March was speaking into her communicator now, her voice carrying a note of frustration. "Miss Himeko? Mr. Yang? Can either of you hear me?" She waited for several seconds. "Damn it. They're not responding. Probably still too busy fighting to check their communications."

She switched to a different channel. "Pom-Pom? Are you there? Can you hear me?"

A tinny voice responded from the communicator, too quiet and distorted for Seele to make out the actual words.

"Oh thank goodness!" March's relief was palpable. "Listen, I need you to relay an urgent message. Tell Himeko and Welt that we need them at these exact coordinates as soon as they can possibly break away. It's extremely urgent. Life or death."

She lowered the device after a moment and looked at the group. "Pom-Pom says to hold on. They'll pass along the message and get here as quickly as they can manage."

Cocolia made a small sound—something caught between relief and deep regret. "That's unfortunate. I had hoped to meet the rest of the people responsible for saving Belobog before the end."

That phrase.

The people responsible for saving Belobog.

Why did that specific wording feel wrong? Why did it make Seele's teeth clench involuntarily?

"You don't need to worry about that," Bronya said, squeezing her mother's hand gently. "They'll be here soon enough. We'll all stay together until then. I'll stay with you for as long as I possibly can."

Cocolia's expression softened into something that looked like genuine maternal love. She reached up with both hands, cupping Bronya's face with a tenderness that made Seele's chest ache despite all her suspicions and doubts.

"My precious daughter." Cocolia's voice was thick with emotion that sounded completely real. "I'm so deeply sorry for everything the Stellaron forced me to believe. For every vision it showed me, every lie it whispered. It made me see your death so vividly, made me think Alexander had murdered you in cold blood. What kind of torture is that, to make a mother believe her child is gone?"

Fresh tears spilled down her face, mixing with the frost still clinging to her skin.

"But you're here," she continued, her thumbs brushing gently across Bronya's cheeks. "You're alive and strong and so incredibly capable. And I'm so proud of you. So proud of the leader you've become."

Bronya's composure was cracking badly now. She struggled visibly to maintain the commander's mask, to keep her professional bearing intact, but her voice shook when she finally managed to speak.

"I'll do everything in my power to lead our people well," Bronya said, each word carefully controlled. "I'll repair all the damage that was done. I'll restore Belobog to what it should be. I promise you, I'll be the best Supreme Guardian this planet has ever seen."

Cocolia smiled. The expression was radiant and full of love and pride and something else that Seele still couldn't quite identify but made her deeply, deeply uncomfortable.

"You don't have to promise me anything, sweetheart," Cocolia said softly. "I already know with absolute certainty that you'll be better than all of us combined. After all—"

Her thumbs continued their gentle motion across Bronya's cheeks.

"—in the new world that is promised, I know for a fact you'll eclipse every single one of the Rands who came before you."

Three people froze simultaneously.

Seele felt it like ice water being poured directly down her spine—that specific phrase, those exact words cutting through everything else like a blade.

In the new world that is promised.

Beside her, Gepard's hands stopped moving mid-gesture, the protective dome only half-formed above them, forgotten.

And Bronya—Bronya's eyes went wide as comprehension dawned a split second too late.

"New world that is—"

Cocolia's smile never wavered. Never flickered even slightly. It stayed warm and tender and perfectly loving as an ice spear materialized in her hands.

As she drove it straight through her daughter's stomach.

Bronya made a sound—small and surprised, like someone had simply punched her rather than impaled her through the abdomen. Her hands came up slowly, almost dreamlike, touching the crystalline shaft now protruding from her body.

Blood bloomed across her uniform in a spreading stain.

Cocolia's smile widened into something absolutely monstrous.