The light consumed Minho.
It seared through every nerve, unraveling him from the inside out. For a moment-just a moment-he felt himself *cease*. No pain. No self. Just *unbeing*.
Then he *fell*.
The impact was devastating. His bones rattled against an unyielding surface, the air ripped from his lungs. He choked, his body spasming against the *wet* ground.
Not stone. Not metal. Not even flesh.
Something *in-between*.
Minho gasped and threw himself upright. The chamber around him was *wrong*. The walls pulsed, stitched together from something *living*. Dark veins webbed the surface, bulging with thick, sluggish liquid that *moved* as if it were aware. Every few seconds, the walls convulsed, exhaling a foul breath that reeked of rot and rusted iron. The air itself *squirmed*.
Then the voice came.
"You should have broken by now."
It was deep. Jagged. As if it were *speaking through the bones of the Tower itself*.
Minho's head snapped up.
At the far end of the chamber, something *shifted*. Shadows peeled back, unveiling a mass of twisting, writhing armor. The Warden *stepped forward*.
No-this wasn't the same entity he had fought before.
It had *changed*.
Its body was wrapped in a churning exoskeleton, black plates of metal grinding against one another, warping and shifting with every breath. Blood seeped from the gaps, *endless*, flowing down its body in thick, pulsing rivers. The exposed flesh beneath wasn't flesh at all-it *twitched*, rippled, as if something was struggling to escape.
Then Minho saw its *face*.
Or what passed for one.
A grotesque, vertical slit ran down the center of its skull, tearing open to reveal a massive, *weeping* eye. It blinked sideways-once, twice-before black ichor spilled from the socket, hissing as it hit the ground.
Then, from inside that same eye, something *pierced through*.
A *spine*. No, a *bone blade*, growing *from within*, *forcing* its way out, dripping with thick, fresh gore. The Warden didn't flinch.
It *smiled*.
Minho's grip tightened on his sword.
The Warden cocked its head-the motion unnatural.
"You think you are still a *thing* that can fight?"
Minho didn't respond. He knew better than to waste words.
Then the Warden *moved*.
Minho barely reacted in time.
The thing was *on him*-one second standing at the far end of the chamber, the next inches away. Six elongated arms lashed out, each ending in a jagged, shifting blade.
Minho hurled himself backward. The first blow crushed the floor where he'd been standing. The second would've come close to splitting his shoulder. He spun, barely dodged the third—
But the fourth *struck*.
A clawed hand raked across his chest, shredding armor like tissue paper. The agony detonating through him spun him *airborne*, pinning him with a bone-breaking crash against the pulsating vein-wrapped wall.
The collision sent him *seeing stars*. His breath puffed out of him in fits.
The Warden didn't stop.
It *lunged*, a single hand *piercing* into the wall beside Minho's head, pinning him.
Its massive eye locked onto his.
"There is nothing left of you," the Warden whispered. Its breath reeked of old blood. "Only the Tower. Only *me*.}"
Minho gritted his teeth and *drove his knee* into its chest. The blow connected-nothing. The Warden didn't even acknowledge it.
Then Minho *thrust his sword upward*, aiming for the weeping slit of an eye—
The Warden caught the blade mid-swing.
It stopped the attack like it was nothing.
Minho had no time to react before *pain*—*horrible, searing pain*—shot through his arm. The Warden had *punched* its claws straight into his shoulder, embedding itself deep.
Minho *screamed*.
The Warden *laughed*.
A deep, grating sound that vibrated through the chamber.
"You do not even *understand* what you are fighting."
Minho gritted his teeth against the agony. Blood dripped down his side. His vision blurred.
Then-*he saw it.*
Beneath the layers of twisting armor, buried deep in the Warden's chest, was a glow.
A pulsing core.
Minho *moved*.
He *twisted*, wrenching his sword free. The moment the blade left the Warden's grip, he drove it *downward*—not into flesh, not into armor, but into the *ground itself*.
The moment it pierced the pulsing mass beneath them, the *entire* chamber *reacted*.
The walls *convulsed*. The veins swelled, black ichor *bursting* forth.
The Warden *snarled*. It *felt that.*
"You—"
Minho didn't let it finish. He *ripped* his sword free, dragging it *upward* in one clean arc—
And then *threw himself at the core*.
The Warden *moved to intercept*, all six of its arms slashing in a hurricane of death—
Minho dodged.
Twisted.
And *rammed the blade into the Warden's core*.
A sound like *thunder* tore through the air.
The Warden *seized*. Its armor *ripped open*, its eye *exploding* in a spray of black fluid. Its body *fractured*, veins of blinding white energy snaking through its form—
For a moment, Minho thought he had won.
Then—
The Warden grabbed him.
Its claws *sank* into his ribs, its grip tightening with *unnatural* strength. Minho *screamed* as he felt bones *snap*.
The Warden's core flickered, the light inside it *twisting*.
Then- *it changed *.
The glow darkened, shifting from white to *sickly green*.
Minho felt something *pulling at him *.
Not his body-his *mind *.
Visions *assaulted * him.
His past failures. His regrets. Every person he had ever let down. The Tower was *devouring him *.
Minho clenched his teeth, fighting against the pull.
But the Warden just *smiled*.
"You are not separate from me," it whispered. "You never have been."
Minho's fingers *burned*. He looked down—
His hands were *disintegrating*.
No, not disintegrating—*changing*.
His skin *cracked*, light spilling from within, crawling up his arms, consuming him.
His breath hitched.
He met the Warden's gaze.
The creature's mouth stretched into something *almost human*.
Minho snarled.
"No.
He gathered what strength he had left, his mind reeling against the force threatening to tear him apart. "I'm not yours."
The Warden's laugh was a low, rasping growl. "You never had a choice."
Minho *roared*. He forced his sword deeper into the Warden's core, scraping the bones of the creature's twisted interior. The Warden's grip tightened again, its claws cutting deeper into his side.
But Minho kept pushing. The pain, the agony-it didn't matter anymore. His soul was already on the edge. If he was going to die, it would not be without taking this monster down with him.
"You…," Minho gasped, words barely escaping his throat. "You want me to break, but I won't. Not like this. Not… now.
The Warden's eye flickered with a gleam of something. understanding. And yet, it was so alien, so removed from humanity that Minho couldn't even tell whether it was mocking him or intrigued.
"You fool," whispered the Warden, her voice sliding like death through the air. "You never stood a chance.
Then, the Warden's body *shifted* again. It was growing. Expanding, more and more. Its six arms multiplied into twelve, then eighteen. The very space around Minho distorted as the Warden's mass grew, forcing him further into the hollow core. The walls shook and trembled, shaking with the force of the expansion.
Minho felt his strength start to fade.
His fingers slipped down the hilt of the sword, but he held on.
Using the last ounce of his will, Minho twisted his body, turning the sword to face the Warden's pulsating core.
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