The clearing reeked of burnt flesh and something far more unsettling, suffocating, primal darkness. In the center, the Deucalion writhed a monstrous amalgamation of flesh and swirling black smoke. The Onis, their form a pulsating mass of inky tendrils, seemed to be feeding on the Deucalion's raw power.
Eleanor, the throbbing in her head a dull counterpoint to the scene before her, watched in horrified fascination. The creature they had summoned to destroy the Deucalion was in the process of becoming something far worse.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Serafina collapse. Elijah rushed to her side, panic etched on his face. Agatha, her eyes blazing with a feral intensity, snarled at the encroaching darkness.
"We have to stop them!" she roared, her voice cracking with barely contained rage.