The battlefield was no longer ground and sky but a swirling abyss. Malrik, stripped of all semblance of humanity, towered above them in his storm-born form—an endless writhing of shadow, claws, and gnashing maws, each scream within him echoing with centuries of stolen voices. The night bent around him as though reality itself strained under his weight.
Selene's heart thundered, yet her hand did not tremble as she raised her sword. Every instinct screamed to flee, but there was nowhere to run. The storm had swallowed the world. Only one path remained: forward.
Kieran stood like a wall at her side, his eyes burning with grim determination. His sword dripped with flame, but even his warrior training had not prepared him for a foe like this. "We can't fight him as he is. He's not flesh anymore."
Selene's gaze flicked to Rael, who staggered but refused to fall. His golden light flickered faintly, his chest heaving with exhaustion. Yet when his eyes met hers, she saw fire—unyielding, unbroken.
"We can fight him," Rael said, his voice raw but resolute. "Because he's not infinite. The shadows… they bind him. He feeds on them, but they also chain him." He raised his hand, light sparking in his palm like an ember clinging to life. "If we cut through the shadows, his core will be exposed. That's where we strike."
Malrik's form coiled, tendrils of darkness striking outward like serpents. Selene swung, cleaving one apart before it could impale Rael. The cut hissed with smoke, the pieces writhing before dissolving into ash.
"Then we strike together," she said, steel in her voice.
The storm roared. Malrik's voice echoed, layered and monstrous:
"You think your fragile light can withstand me? I am the abyss. I am every shadow your kind fears when the sun dies."
"Then fear this," Rael whispered.
His wings flared, though faint and battered, golden fire rushing out to form a barrier around Selene and Kieran. The tendrils slammed into it, sparks bursting across the air. Each blow rattled Rael's frame, blood spilling from his lip, but he held firm.
Selene rushed forward, her blade raised high. Kieran matched her stride, their movements a mirrored dance honed by battle and desperation. They carved through the shadows, each strike clearing a path closer to the monstrous core swirling at Malrik's heart.
Every step was a war. Tendrils lashed, claws raked the ground, mouths screamed curses that dug into their bones. Selene's arms ached, but with each strike, her fury surged brighter. She thought of the chains Malrik had bound Rael with, the scars carved into his skin, the centuries of torment and stolen choice.
"No more!" she screamed, her blade searing as if her rage itself sharpened it. "You'll never own him again!"
Malrik's storm recoiled for a moment, the shadows thrashing wildly. That hesitation was all Rael needed.
He gathered every last drop of light within him. His body trembled violently, his wings burning so bright they cracked. A spear of pure brilliance began to form again—but this one was not thrown.
He placed it into Selene's hands.
Her breath caught as the weapon flared in her grip, alive, burning with his soul. She looked back at him, her silver eyes wide. "Rael—if I strike with this, what will happen to you?"
He gave a tired, broken smile. "Then I'll be free."
"No!" she cried, shaking her head. "Not if it means losing you—"
"Selene," he said softly, his voice steady despite his exhaustion. "You gave me my freedom once. Don't let me be chained again, not even by this monster's shadow. Do it—for both of us."
Her throat burned, her hands trembling as the spear pulsed in her grip. Kieran's hand steadied hers, his voice low but resolute. "He's right. This is the only way."
Malrik surged again, his storm descending with a roar like the end of the world. Claws and teeth and darkness swallowed everything.
Selene raised the spear, golden fire blazing through her veins. She screamed with all the rage, love, and defiance in her soul—
—and drove the weapon straight into the core of Malrik's storm.
The night erupted in light.