The Golden Palace's inner halls were silent, but Ravenous's footsteps echoed as though the stone itself wanted to mock him. He moved slowly, each step heavier than the last.
The corridors twisted like veins of metal; walls fused with veins of hardened gold. In some places, the shine reflected his figure back at him—a tall man in dark armor, face shadowed, carrying himself with the mechanical stillness of a puppet.
But the reflections didn't match him.
In the walls, the figure's eyes glowed violet. Its outline shimmered and warped, as though some gravitational force bent it. When Ravenous leaned closer, the reflection smirked—Zorath's smirk.
He stumbled back, clutching his head.
Ravenous (whispering): "Not mine… not me…"
But the memories bled through anyway. He saw cities collapsing under invisible weight. Oceans dragged upward into void. Screams fading in the silence of crushed air. And above it all, Zorath Veil is laughing, his Event Horizon swallowing the world.
Ravenous pressed his forehead to the golden wall. His breath came raggedly.
Ravenous: "I… I am loyal to Midas. I am nothing but a servant. Nothing but… his creation."
The wall whispered back, though no mouth moved.
Reflection (Zorath's voice): "No servant… you are me. And I am endless." Ravenous screamed, striking the wall with his fist. The golden vase cracked under his blow, splintering into jagged shards. But the laughter in his skull didn't stop.
For the first time since his birth, Ravenous felt the terror of becoming someone else.
Outside…
The Dead Lands shimmered in the sunlight. Henry and Elara moved cautiously through a half-buried street, their boots crunching on sand that glittered like powdered coins.
Elara: "This place feels too quiet."
Henry: "Quiet doesn't mean safe."
He was right. The silence fractured when a sharp crack split the air—a gunshot. The sand at Henry's feet jumped.
From the shadows of collapsed buildings, a band of figures emerged. Tomb raiders, draped in patchwork cloaks and armored vests scavenged from half a dozen wars. Each carried battered firearms, their barrels glinting with scavenged mods.
Raider Leader: "What do we have here? Travelers stupid enough to wander into our gold mine."
They raised their guns, circling.
Henry clenched his fists, sparks of heavenly blue rippling along his knuckles.
Henry: "Not the best day to pick a fight."
The raiders laughed. Muzzles flashed.
Henry blurred into motion, his body bursting into blue light. With Shooting Star, he zipped forward, the bullets whistling harmlessly through after-images of his glowing form. His fist caught one raider in the chest, launching the man into the sand in a burst of dust.
But more gunfire erupted, the circle tightening.
Elara stepped forward. For a moment, fear flickered in her eyes—then she raised her hand. Green light shimmered at her fingertips, unstable but fierce, like the heart of a newborn star.
Elara: "I won't… lose control this time."
She thrust her palm outward. A shockwave of emerald energy blasted through the sand, sending two raiders flying. Their weapons clattered across the ground, melted and twisted by the raw force.
Henry turned, stunned.
Henry: "Elara—"
Elara cut him off, her voice trembling but firm.
Elara: "Focus, Henry! I can handle it."
Another volley of bullets screamed toward them. Elara's green aura surged, forming a shimmering shield of condensed light. The bullets disintegrated on impact, fragments raining like sparks.
Henry dashed out from behind her, fists blazing. He weaved between the raiders, each strike glowing with heavenly force, sending enemies sprawling.
But the leader was smarter. He pulled a grenade from his belt and lobbed it straight at Elara.
Her eyes widened—for an instant, panic flared. The grenade struck the ground at her feet.
Henry shouted, "Elara!"
She clenched her fists, screaming, and the green aura exploded around her in a dome of blinding light. The grenade detonated, but the flames were swallowed by the energy, bending inward until they fizzled out.
When the glow faded, Elara stood in the center, chest heaving, but alive.
Henry's jaw slackened.
Henry: "You… you controlled it."
Elara's eyes burned with determination.
Elara: "I told you. I'm not weak anymore."
The raiders faltered. Their leader cursed, rallying them to fire again—but Henry and Elara moved in perfect unison.
Henry burst through the hail of bullets, fists crackling with blue light, striking down the gunners one by one. Elara's aura shimmered around him, deflecting shots he couldn't dodge. With each wave of her hand, weapons melted, sandglass storms rose, and men fell screaming.
Within minutes, the tomb raiders lay scattered across the ruins, groaning or unconscious. The leader crawled backward, eyes wide, until Henry's shadow fell over him.
Henry: "You picked the wrong graveyard."
Elara lowered her hand. Her aura flickered, then dimmed. She was pale, sweat streaking her forehead, but her eyes were steady. She stood over the leader now. Her body slightly bursting with emerald green energy.
Henry: "Let him live. We're not here for them."
Elara hesitated, then nodded. She turned away.
The raider leader gasped, scrambling to his feet, clutching his broken gun as he fled into the sandstorm that began to rise.
Henry glanced at Elara, still half in awe of what she had just done.
Henry: "You really are changing."
Elara looked away, the ghost of a smile brushing her lips.
Elara: "I have to. Or none of us will survive."
Inside the Palace…
In the chambers deep below, Ravenous finally dropped to his knees. Sweat dripped down his face. His shadow writhed unnaturally against the walls, bending into monstrous shapes.
He pressed a hand to his chest. His voice cracked.
Ravenous: "I… am Ravenous. Not Zorath. Not a god. A servant. Only a servant…"
The laughter in his head grew louder, shaking his skull.
Reflection (Zorath's voice): "Servant's break. Gods endure. And you, little copy… are already breaking."
Ravenous's scream echoed through the palace. For the first time, his loyalty to Midas wavered—not out of defiance, but out of fear that he was becoming something his master never intended.
And in the dead streets of the Golden City, Henry and Elara walked forward, unaware that their fight against the raiders was only the faintest test before the true jaws of Midas's trap would close around them.