The mire pulsed faintly, the stillness broken only by the faint ripple of Sylva's roots brushing over the blackened surface. Her luminous form hovered low, desperation etched into every movement as her voice echoed through the twisting expanse.
"Aiden! Please, we need you!" Sylva's voice carried a frantic edge, her usually calm demeanor fractured by the urgency of her call. The mire's air grew heavier, clinging to her like a physical weight as she pressed forward, her gaze darting through the gloom.
There was no response, only the faint whisper of the mire as it rippled underfoot. Sylva's gaze flickered with worry, her voice cracking. "Aiden, please! The Core—it's overwhelming them. They can't hold it back alone."
In the distance, a faint rasp broke the silence. "Sylva…"
"Aiden?" she whispered, her voice trembling as she approached cautiously.
Her heart tightened at the sound, her roots halting mid-air. Slowly, she turned, her glowing eyes scanning the murky shadows until they landed on a crumpled figure. The man lay slumped against a knot of roots, dark energy leaking like faint embers from his flesh. His crimson eyes, dim but alive, flickered up at her
The Sentinel's lips curled into a faint, weary smile. "No… not him. But close enough."
"Sentinel?" Sylva whispered, her tone laden with a mix of surprise and caution.
He opened his eyes, their crimson glow dim but still burning faintly. "You still call me that," he said, his voice rasping but tinged with the ghost of a smile. "Just… Aiden. Call me Aiden, like you used to."
Sylva approached slowly, her roots curling protectively beneath her. The warmth she once remembered in his presence seemed distant, like a faded memory. "Why are you here? You shouldn't be here..."
The Sentinel—no, Aiden—chuckled weakly, though the sound was more a rasp than laughter. "I couldn't leave… not yet. Not without trying to stop her."
Aiden's gaze turned upward, his smile faint but genuine. "Maybe I've finally remembered who I was. Before the Core… before everything."
Sylva placed a hand on his chest, feeling the faint flicker of life within him. "You're dying," she said, her voice steady but filled with sorrow.
"I know," Aiden replied, his tone resigned. "But it's okay. Aiden—your Aiden—is already on his way. He's stronger than me. Better. He'll find a way to do what I couldn't."
She hesitated, the faint flicker of warmth in his voice stirring something deep within her. "Why are you telling me this?"
Aiden shook his head weakly. "Because he needs you more. Protect him, Sylva. And…" His gaze grew distant, his voice faltering. "If there's a way to save her… save Lila… promise me you'll try."
Sylva's expression softened further, her roots creeping closer as she knelt beside him. "You've changed. I wish we could go back and change what happened."
The Sentinel's smile widened faintly, though his breathing grew shallower. "No I accept this is my fate, but I'd forgotten what it felt like… to care. To hope."
Her glow brightened slightly as she extended a hand toward him. "You've suffered long enough. Rest now."
His hand lifted weakly, brushing hers. "Thank you," he murmured. "But hurry… they need you."
Sylva nodded, a determined glint in her eyes as she rose. With one last glance at Aiden, she turned and raced toward the faint glow of the sanctum.
His eyes closed, and with a faint sigh, his form faded into the mire, leaving behind only silence and the weight of his words.
Back at the inner sanctum was a nightmare made flesh.
The crimson light of the Core bathed the cavernous space, its roots twisting and pulsating like veins, feeding on the despair that permeated the air.
Kieran lay crumpled on the ground, his shield sprawled beside him. His chest rose and fell shallowly, his unconscious form a testament to the brutal onslaught he had endured.
Above, Rowan was strung up in a grotesque parody of a crucifixion, her arms and legs bound by thick, writhing roots that pulsed with the Core's energy. Her head hung low, her body limp, but faint murmurs of protest escaped her lips as she struggled weakly against her restraints.
Amara was still fighting, her fan discarded as she clawed at the dark tendrils wrapped around her throat. Lila—or what wore Lila's face—loomed over her, a menacing Cheshire grin stretching across her features. Her eyes glinted with a sadistic glee, and her laughter echoed like a twisted melody through the sanctum.
"You should see your face," Lila taunted, her grip tightening around Amara's neck. "Such delicious desperation. Is this the best you can do?"
Amara's lips moved, her voice barely a rasp. "You… won't win…"
Lila's laughter grew louder, her head tilting back in a mockery of joy. "Oh, sweet girl, I've already won. Look around you. Your friends are broken. Your hope? Gone."
Amara's lips curled into a faint smirk, despite Lila's grip cutting off her air. "Maybe… but you're still talking," she managed, her voice strained. "That means you're… afraid."
Lila's grin faltered, her eyes narrowing dangerously. "Afraid?" she hissed, her voice sharp. "I have no reason to fear you."
"Then why… do you keep… wasting time?" Amara forced out between gasps. Her eyes flickered toward her fan again, her hand inching toward it as Lila's hands briefly slackened.
Lila followed her gaze, her expression twisting into a cruel smile. "Oh, you're clever. You think you can still fight me?"
Amara's hand shot toward the fan, her fingers brushing against its edge. With a flick of her wrist, the weapon began to shift, elongating into the familiar form of a sniper rifle. Lila's vice tightened again, yanking her upward, but the rifle tumbled toward her feet.
"You've got fight left in you," Lila mused, her tone laced with mockery. "Good. It'll make breaking you even more satisfying."
Amara's fingers clawed at her neck as her legs kicked out, her boot nudging the rifle closer. With every ounce of strength she had left, she reached for it, her fingertips brushing the cool metal. Her vision blurred, her lungs burning, but she refused to stop.
"You're… pathetic," she rasped, her voice faint but cutting. "Hiding behind… her face. You're not Lila."
Lila's expression darkened, her grin twisting into something feral. "You think this little display will save you?" she sneered, her voice dripping with disdain. Her tendrils surged, yanking the rifle from Amara's grasp. "Your defiance is adorable, but let's be honest—you're nothing without them."
Amara's struggles weakened, her fingers slipping from Lilas arm as her vision blurred. The Core's roots pulsed in rhythm with its taunting laughter, filling the air with its malevolent presence.
From the edge of the sanctum, the faint sound of footsteps echoed, drawing closer rang out.
Lila's head snapped toward the sound, her grin faltering as her expression twisted into a snarl. "He's finally here," she hissed, tossing Amara aside like a discarded toy. "He sure took his time."
In the distance, Aiden's silhouette emerged, his body framed by the flickering crimson glow. His ring gleamed faintly in the dim light, the light from its gem shifting with his resolve. His gaze was unwavering, his presence a sharp contrast to the chaos around him.