Rayon's body shuddered, twitching under Erethon's control. The strings of shadow still danced wildly, wrapping around the soil, trees, and torn serpent flesh. But inside, something stirred. Rayon wasn't gone. Not truly.
Erethon knew it.
"This shell…" the voice muttered, dragging Rayon's blood-soaked hand through the dirt. "It's stronger than most… but it still fights me." His lips twisted into a grin. "Good. I enjoy resistance."
He turned from the shredded corpse of the serpent and stepped deeper into the forest. His gait was strange—half confident, half unhinged—every step leaving faint black scorch marks in the grass. The deeper he walked, the heavier the air grew, until whispers started in the dark. Low, guttural growls echoed between the trees.
Ancient monsters. Creatures that hadn't seen light in centuries.
The first to lunge was a hulking wolf-like beast, its fur bristling with bone spikes, eyes glowing like embers. Erethon didn't even flinch. Threads shot upward, piercing through its mouth and spine, lifting it into the air like a puppet. The beast howled before Erethon pulled it close and sank Rayon's teeth into its neck.
Hot, metallic blood spilled down his throat. The forest itself seemed to recoil at the act.
"Ahh…" Erethon sighed, wiping crimson from his lips with the back of Rayon's pale hand. "Each drop… tears at the seal."
And so it went.
A winged lizard with scales harder than iron.
A boar with tusks the size of trees.
A towering ape with stone for skin and fire burning in its chest.
One by one, they fell. Not hunted—slaughtered. Erethon used Rayon's body like a blade, threads slicing, fists breaking bone, jaws tearing open throats. He drank their blood, each mouthful searing Rayon's veins, mixing with his essence, unraveling the layers of the seal that bound Erethon.
And with each kill, Erethon laughed louder, the madness shaking the forest, calling more ancient monsters out of hiding.
By the time Rayon's consciousness stirred, the clearing was a graveyard. Piles of corpses, some still twitching, surrounded him. Blood stained every inch of his suit, his skin, his lips. The forest floor was so drenched in crimson it looked like the earth itself was bleeding.
Rayon's eyes snapped open, his own again. The strings coiled back to him, his breath sharp and heavy. He stumbled, gripping his head as Erethon's voice echoed in his skull.
"You wake."
Rayon spat blood into the dirt, steadying himself. "And you overstepped."
Erethon's shape flickered into existence before him, a tall shadow with features just a little too sharp, a smile just a little too wide. He wasn't fully there—not flesh, not even spirit. He was a soul tethered to Rayon, visible only to him.
"Overstepped?" Erethon chuckled. "You should be thanking me. Look at yourself."
Rayon looked down. His veins burned with new power, his muscles felt heavier, stronger, sharper. The blood of beasts sang inside him, a cocktail of rage and raw instinct, laced into his Hollow Strings. He wasn't just human anymore. He was something more.
"You're welcome," Erethon said, bowing mockingly. "Your seal is broken. And now… you are us."
Rayon wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve, straightening his blood-soaked collar. "No," he said calmly, almost coldly. "I'm me. You'll never own me."
Erethon smirked, teeth gleaming too bright in the dark. "We'll see. I'll be here, always. Watching. Waiting. Whispering. Your greatest hater…" His eyes narrowed, his grin widened. "…and your only true glazer."
Rayon didn't respond. He only adjusted his ruined suit, breathing slowly as his strings swirled faintly around his fingers. His mind was clear, sharper than before. Madness might be inside him, but he wasn't its prisoner.
He was its master.
And somewhere deep in the forest, something older than beasts stirred at the scent of spilled blood.