The shadows grew bolder. Their forms pressed closer, weaving a suffocating circle around the party. Each strike was heavier, each whisper sharper. The cavern felt smaller with every passing heartbeat.
Callen staggered, his sword slipping against the ground as another whisper clawed into his mind.
"You're weak… Reinhardt only keeps you here to watch you fail. You'll die first."
He clutched his head, trembling, his knuckles white. His eyes darted toward Reinhardt—then away, filled with shame. For a moment, his blade lowered.
"Callen!" Reinhardt's voice snapped like a whip. He leapt in front of him, parrying a shadow's claw that would have torn him apart. Sparks burst, scattering into the darkness. "Stand with me!"
"I— I can't," Callen whispered, his voice breaking. "They're right. I'll drag all of you down."
The fracture widened. Alden growled in frustration, slamming his axe into the ground with enough force to crush two shadows at once. "Then fight harder, damn it! If you fall, we all fall!"
Elira's voice cut in, sharper than steel. "Don't you dare break now, Callen. We need you." Her spear twisted through another shadow, light flashing across her determined eyes.
But the shadows pressed the wound deeper, their whispers overlapping, hissing directly into Callen's ears.
"Reinhardt sees you as dead weight."
"Alden despises you."
"Elira pities you."
His hands shook. His sword tip touched the ground. And in that instant, Reinhardt made a choice.
He grabbed Callen by the shoulder and forced him upright, their eyes locking.
"Listen to me," Reinhardt said, his voice low, steady, and absolute. "I don't care what they whisper. I chose you to stand beside me, Callen. Not because you're perfect, but because you don't run. If you give up now, then the shadows win. But if you fight… you'll prove them wrong."
Callen's breath hitched. His gaze flickered between Reinhardt's unyielding stare and the swarming darkness around them. His grip tightened on his sword.
"…Then I'll fight," he whispered. His blade lifted again, trembling—but steady.
The shadows shrieked, enraged at their failure to shatter him. They surged in all at once, a black tide crashing forward.
"Hold the line!" Reinhardt roared.
Four blades moved as one. For the first time, the fracture in their unity began to mend, reforged by fire.
But in the deepest corner of the cavern, hidden from sight, a greater shadow stirred. Watching. Waiting.