James’s breath hitched as he staggered forward, his legs screaming in protest. The barrier they’d torn through was still shimmering faintly behind them, the heat of Elyndor’s fire-and-spirit energy lingering in the air like a suffocating blanket.
Ahead, Elyndor stood in the center of his ritual circle, the high-grade control rune glowing with an otherworldly brilliance. The lines of its intricate design pulsated in sync with the monstrous cocoon behind him. The molten surface of the cocoon was alive with cracks, molten energy seeping from the gaps. Each pulse of light seemed to sap the world of its strength, making even the air feel heavy and oppressive.
"Stay back!" Elyndor’s voice boomed, distorted as if layered with the whispers of his spirits. His once pristine robes were scorched and torn, his face gaunt and shadowed by the ritual’s toll. Yet his eyes burned with manic determination.
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"Elyndor!" James shouted, his voice raw and trembling. He stepped forward, feeling Sylvia’s hand on his arm but shaking it off. "You don’t understand what you’re doing! That thing isn’t something you can control!"
Elyndor turned to face him, his expression a twisted mix of disdain and triumph. "Weakling," he spat. "You’ve spent this entire journey clinging to scraps of courage, hiding behind gadgets and luck. What could you possibly know of power? Of duty?"
James’s fists clenched. "I know enough to see that this… this thing is beyond us. You think you’re in control, but you’re just feeding it."
Elyndor laughed, bitter and hollow. "Naive as ever. This beast is the key to reshaping the world. With it under my command, the elven empire will rise above all others. There will be no more wars, no more betrayals. Only order—my father’s order."
Kael snarled, his claws digging into the ground. "Your father’s a damned lunatic if he thinks this is the way to peace. You’re no better."
Elyndor ignored him, raising his staff as the control rune flared brighter. The ground beneath the circle trembled, and the molten light from the cocoon intensified. "You’ve all spent your lives in service to mediocrity, to false unity. I serve something greater. This is my duty."
"This is madness!" Sylvia shouted, her wings flaring with blinding light. "Elyndor, stop before it’s too late!"
James stepped forward again, his heart hammering in his chest. He could feel Arthur’s presence pressing down on him, an invisible weight that threatened to crush his resolve. Yet he kept moving, forcing himself to meet Elyndor’s gaze.
"Duty?" James’s voice cracked, but he pushed on. "Is that what you tell yourself? That sacrificing everything, everyone, is justified as long as it’s for your empire? Look around you, Elyndor! You’re alone. You’ve alienated everyone who could have stood by you. And for what? A monster that doesn’t care about you or your empire?"
Elyndor’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond. The spirits circling him hissed and whispered, their forms flickering like dying embers.
The cocoon behind him groaned, a deep, resonant sound that rattled James’s bones. A massive crack spread across its surface, spewing molten energy into the air. The psychic pressure surged, forcing everyone to their knees. James gasped as his vision blurred, Arthur’s presence slamming into his mind like a tidal wave.
Images flickered—destruction, endless fire, and a voice, deep and echoing, that carried the weight of despair. "You are nothing."
"No," James muttered, his hands clutching his head. "You’re wrong."
"What did you say, human?" Elyndor’s voice was strained, his control slipping as the rune flickered under the cocoon’s pressure.
James forced himself upright, his knees wobbling. "You’re wrong. You’re not in control. That thing… it’s using you."
Elyndor’s face twisted in fury. "Silence!" He raised his staff, and the control rune surged with power. "I’ll show you what true strength looks like!"
The rune’s glow intensified, its lines shifting and weaving as Elyndor chanted in the ancient tongue of the spirits. The words were guttural and harsh, resonating with an unnatural force.
"Anath-thiryn al’nurak! Bind thy will to me, O beast of chaos!" Elyndor’s voice rose, echoing against the trembling cavern walls. "By blood and spirit, submit!"
The air crackled with energy as a massive spirit emerged from the circle—a middle-tier being, its form towering and ethereal, wreathed in fire and shadow. Its presence radiated malice, its molten eyes locked onto the group.
"Kael, now!" Sylvia shouted, her wings igniting with divine light as she launched herself at the spirit. Kael roared, leaping forward to meet it head-on.
James stumbled back, his mind spinning as the psychic pressure from Arthur and the spirit’s aura clashed in the air. His eyes darted to Elyndor, who stood rigid, pouring his life force into the ritual. The control rune was beginning to splinter, its edges cracking under the strain.
And then he saw it.
On the back of Elyndor’s neck, just below the hairline, was the faint shimmer of something alive—a mind-bug. Its translucent body pulsed, its tendrils burrowed deep into his skin. James’s stomach turned as realization struck.
"Elyndor!" he shouted, his voice breaking. "You’re being controlled!"
Elyndor faltered, his chant momentarily breaking. He turned to James, confusion flickering in his manic gaze. "What nonsense are you spewing now?"
"There’s a bug on you!" James took a step forward, his hands raised. "It’s on the back of your neck—it’s controlling your thoughts! This isn’t you, Elyndor!"
The elf froze, his grip on the staff loosening. His free hand instinctively reached for the back of his neck, his fingers brushing against the pulsating creature. His eyes widened in horror.
"What… what is this?"
The control rune faltered, its glow dimming as Elyndor’s focus wavered. The massive spirit let out an enraged roar, its fiery form lashing out at Kael and Sylvia. Thrain smashed his hammer into the ground, creating a protective barrier, but the group was on the defensive.
James pressed forward, his heart pounding. "You can fight it, Elyndor! You don’t have to do this!"
Elyndor’s hand trembled as he gripped the bug, his face twisted in pain. "No… no, I have to—"
The cocoon groaned again, the cracks spreading like a web. A deafening hum filled the air, followed by a blinding flash of molten light. James shielded his eyes, the psychic pressure intensifying to the point of suffocation.
And then it came.
A massive claw emerged from the cocoon, its surface crackling with destructive energy. The ground shook violently as the air turned blisteringly hot, the sheer weight of Arthur’s presence slamming into them like a physical force.
Elyndor’s eyes lit up with manic triumph. "Yes… yes! Submit to me!"
The claw twitched, flexing once before slamming into the ground with a thunderous BOOM. The resulting shockwave sent everyone sprawling, the ritual circle shattering under the force.
James coughed, struggling to rise. His eyes locked onto Elyndor, who stood frozen, his staff trembling in his grip. The cocoon’s surface began to peel away, revealing a faint silhouette glowing with molten light.
"Elyndor, stop!" James shouted, his voice desperate.
But the elf didn’t respond. His eyes were locked on the beast emerging before him, his lips curling into a trembling smile. "Mine…" he whispered, his voice cracking. "It’s all mine."