Cyrus stumbled through the corridors, leaning heavily against the walls for support. His vision blurred, and a persistent ringing echoed in his ears. Spitting out a mouthful of blood, he glanced at his trembling hands. "Eldor's spell is fading," he muttered. "I need to move quickly."
The sound of hurried footsteps approached, and Cyrus tensed, forcing his battered body into a defensive stance. As the figure rushed towards him, recognition dawned, and he allowed himself a small smile of relief. Leora caught his weakening form just before he could collapse to the ground.
For a brief, blissful moment, as he leaned against her chest, the pain seemed to melt away. Cyrus wanted nothing more than to remain in this embrace, to savor this fleeting peace for the rest of his days. But reality intruded, harsh and unyielding. "What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
"It's been four minutes already, and... and I wasn't getting any news of you and..." Leora's voice trembled, heavy with worry and fear. It was the first time she had expressed her feelings so openly, her racing heartbeat betraying the depth of her concern. She had been terrified of losing him.
"The agents you liberated have joined the battle, but it hasn't changed much. We're running out of time," she added urgently.
Gritting his teeth against the pain, Cyrus straightened, using Leora's arm for support. Every second wasted meant more casualties. "We haven't lost yet," he declared. "We still have one more minute." The fresh, hot blood in his mouth tasted bitter, a grim reminder of his rapidly deteriorating condition.
As they approached the final door, a familiar figure came into view. Mariline stood before them, surprisingly unarmed and carrying only a small bag.
"Don't worry, I'm leaving," she said with a smile that Cyrus couldn't quite decipher as genuine or another ploy to manipulate him.
"Why have you changed your mind?" he asked, wary but curious.
Mariline's face lit up with an unexpected vitality as she spoke. "It might sound strange, but when I decided to betray you, I was liberated. I can't explain it, but I feel alive and in control. Having tasted that pleasure, I can't stay in one place anymore. I crave more of that feeling. So, I've chosen once again – this time, to leave."
She looked like a bird that had just learned to fly, intoxicated by the newfound freedom of the endless sky. "You might not believe me, but I'm grateful to you. I'll never forget the night we spent together."
Cyrus felt Leora's warm hand slide into his, and he tightened his grip reflexively. He was unsure how to process Mariline's words, whether they were sincere or not. But one thing was certain – she appeared truly liberated.
Mariline smiled charmingly as she began to fade away. "Take good care of him. Goodbye, Cyrus, and thank you for everything." Her figure disappeared into one of the numerous portraits lining the Bureau's exit.
Long after she had vanished, Cyrus glanced at Leora by his side. She seemed unperturbed, and he allowed himself a small smile, hoping she wasn't angry.
As they continued their journey, they encountered another unexpected figure about to open the door ahead. Her dress was torn, exposing bruised skin, and her usually immaculate hair was in disarray. The Queen, looking nothing like her typically elegant self, turned to face them.
"Mother," Leora gasped, the first to react. She rushed to the woman's side as Cyrus could only stare, conflicted. How could he intervene? This was Leora's mother, after all. Despite the evil she had done, severing familial ties was never easy.
Confusion swirled in Cyrus's mind. How had the Queen arrived here before them after escaping Tirag? What had she done to him? But time was not on their side for such questions.
The Queen's voice was urgent as she spoke. "Lionore has gone mad. He's always shown signs of instability, even when your father was alive. He wants to destroy all magical creatures to create a world of pure-blooded bites. They didn't agree, and he killed my husband. Now, he must pay."
Her eyes pleaded with Cyrus as she continued, "In your state, you have no chance against him. Let me help you. Let me obtain justice."
Cyrus felt his primordial form slipping away, a wave of fatigue crashing over him. As much as he hated to admit it, he knew he couldn't defeat Lionore alone in his current condition. "Okay," he conceded, deciding to settle his debt with the Queen later. Lionore had to die first.
They pushed open the doors, and a blinding light assaulted their vision. Cyrus shielded his face as he defiantly moved forward, Leora close behind.
Lionore stood observing the stars, a massive globe-like object floating in the void before him. His posture exuded elegance and power, his black suit immaculate as if to set him apart from the world around him. On the globe, billions of tiny dots shimmered like distant stars.
"Looks like I've made an error," Lionore broke the silence, his voice calm and measured.
Cyrus gripped the void, materializing his blue sword. "It's over. Relinquish control of the Bureau," he demanded.
Lionore circled the globe, seemingly unfazed by the threat. "Do you know about history?" he asked, his tone almost conversational.
Cyrus tightened his grip on the sword, ready for any sudden moves.
"I love it!" Lionore continued, his eyes alight with fervor. "It speaks of a man millions of years ago, before our era. Said to be the origin of magic. The primordial bite. The world was peaceful then, the oceans calm, life abundant. The bites reigned supreme... until he met that human, opening the secret of magic to all." Lionore's aura began to leak around him, filling the room with an oppressive energy.
"Millions are dying outside! Stop this madness, Lionore!" Leora roared, her patience wearing thin.
Lionore's voice remained eerily calm. "Millions die every single day, every single hour all over Arkania. Why should this be any different? Humanity has been sullied, and reforms must be made. For the greater good. Can you imagine a world without karmic monsters? How it would look? Where your loved ones wouldn't have to be sent to mines, where you wouldn't be restricted, where this war would never have existed. A world free from pain."
Cyrus froze at his words, the concept of a world without karmic monsters momentarily stunning him. It sounded absurd, and yet... what if Lionore was right? Karmic monsters were the cause of all tragedy in Arkania. Wouldn't eliminating them save everyone? He shook his head, forcing the tempting thought away. Despite its allure, he couldn't agree with Lionore's methods. "What nonsense are you spouting? Do you think killing everyone is the solution to karmic monsters?" Cyrus challenged.
"You wouldn't believe me, but yes," Lionore laughed, his eyes flickering with a golden light. He waved his hand, and the globe began to spin. "Look around, Cyrus. Where do you think the karmic monsters come from?"
As the globe rotated, Cyrus found himself transfixed, the weight of Lionore's words and the implications of his question hanging heavy in the air. The final confrontation was at hand, and the fate of Arkania hung in the balance.