Drake stood amidst the wreckage of Gruter's throne room, his chest heaving as the last remnants of the battle's echoes faded into silence. The Blade of Shadows hummed with dark energy, and Drake's eyes still glowed with the power that coursed through him. Elara approached cautiously, her own body bruised and battered, but her eyes were fixed on Drake.
"You… you did it," she whispered, her voice a mixture of relief and fear. "Gruter is gone."
Drake looked down at his hands, which still crackled with the forbidden magic he had unleashed. His reflection in the polished obsidian floor was barely recognizable—his face was gaunt, his eyes hollow, and a dark aura surrounded him. The price of power had been steep, and now he stood at the precipice of losing himself completely.
But Gruter's defeat had not come without consequence. The fortress trembled as the dark magic that had held it together began to unravel. The ground beneath them shook violently, and cracks began to spiderweb across the walls and floor.
"We need to leave," Elara urged, grabbing Drake's arm, but her touch felt distant, as if she were pulling him from a different reality.
Drake's mind was clouded, consumed by the darkness that still lingered within him. The Blade of Shadows whispered to him, promising more power, more control—if only he let go of the last vestiges of his humanity. It was tempting, so very tempting. With this power, he could rebuild the world, reshape it to his will. But at what cost?
"Elara," Drake murmured, his voice distant, "I'm not sure I can come back from this."
"You don't have to do this alone," Elara said, her grip tightening. "You still have a choice. You can fight it."
Drake closed his eyes, trying to block out the whispers, trying to remember who he was before all of this. But the darkness was relentless, and with each passing moment, the fortress crumbled further around them.
As the ground beneath them gave way, Drake and Elara leapt through the collapsing gates of Gruter's fortress, narrowly escaping the cascading debris. They tumbled onto the ground outside, their bodies covered in dust and bruises, but alive.
Behind them, Gruter's fortress collapsed into itself, consumed by the very darkness that had once powered it. It was over. Gruter was gone. But as Drake stood, watching the ruins of the fortress sink into the earth, he knew that the battle within himself was far from over.
The Blade of Shadows still pulsed in his hand, a reminder of the power he had unleashed and the price he had paid.