Seryne and Kaerith continued their journey through the earth's fissures, advancing along cracks that seemed like open arteries of a world on the verge of collapse. The heat intensified with every step—not from temperature alone, but from something deeper, a heat that seemed to emanate from the corrupted essence of the place itself. The air was thick, saturated with an oppressive energy that weighed on their lungs and minds.
The fissures in the ground snaked like veins, some so deep that light could not reach their bottom. Fragments of rock floated in suspension, subtly defying gravity, as if even the laws of physics were shattered here. Though solid beneath their feet, the ground pulsed in places—an irregular, labored breath, as if the earth itself were alive and aware of their presence.
Seryne stopped abruptly, her face tilted slightly toward the void ahead. Her lips moved with a calmness that defied the chaos around them.
— It is inevitable. — Her voice, though barely above a whisper, echoed through the distorted space.
Kaerith did not ask what she meant. She knew. She could feel it too. The air had shifted—thicker, heavier, charged with a presence that did not need to be seen to be felt. Something awaited them ahead, hidden in the darkness of the fissures—something that could not be avoided.
From the depths of one of those cracks, a sound emerged—not a roar, but the sound of reality being torn apart. And then, it appeared.
A monstrous aberration, towering over four meters high, clawed its way from the darkness. Its skin was black and cracked, with glowing veins of dark energy coursing beneath like molten lava. Four disproportionate arms, elongated and curved like organic scythes, moved with impossible agility. Fissures of burning orange light pulsed across its body, like open wounds that would never heal. And its eyes… there were no eyes, only voided slits—portals to a nothingness that devoured everything.
The creature charged without warning—a blur of shadow and distorted light. The ground trembled with each monstrous step, and the air screamed with a piercing shriek that triggered Kaerith's instincts instantly.
Her translucent wings vibrated, producing a high-pitched hum as she vanished in a sudden burst of speed, dodging the initial strike. The monster's impact shattered the ground where they had stood, creating a massive crater with an earth-shaking boom. Jagged shards of stone exploded outward like shrapnel—but Kaerith was already above, spinning mid-air with predatory grace.
She descended like a comet, driving a devastating kick toward the creature's head. The impact rang out—metal striking metal, a brutal, bone-cracking clang. The beast staggered sideways but pivoted instantly, using its four arms to regain balance and launch itself at Kaerith mid-air.
Before it could strike—Seryne moved.
The black band covering her eyes unraveled, transforming into a curved blade of pure, golden energy, shimmering with an ethereal glow. She flowed through the battlefield with haunting precision—her steps soft, deliberate, each movement weaving through the chaos without hesitation. Though blind, her awareness of the fight was absolute—guided by a sight beyond vision, a direct connection to fate itself.
The monster's scythe-like arm swung down like a guillotine—but Seryne was already gone, pirouetting beneath the strike. Her energy blade swept across the creature's shoulder—not deep enough for mortal damage, but deep enough to mark it.
Not a physical wound, but something worse—a thread of inevitability, sewn into the fabric of its being.
The creature screamed—not in pain, but in a primal terror. A formless, instinctive dread. It had felt something it could not comprehend: The certainty of its own demise.
Kaerith seized the opportunity. She reappeared above the creature, antennae twitching as they sensed every micro-movement of its body. She spun downward with a brutal, scything kick aimed at its spine. The blow drove the beast to one knee, but it reacted with terrifying speed—two of its arms shooting up to catch her mid-air.
For a moment, Kaerith was trapped.
Then, she twisted sharply, using the creature's grip against it. With a sickening crack, her bio-blades shot from her forearms—chitinous, razor-edged weapons that tore through the beast's arms in a spray of burning dark ichor. The monster's screech distorted the air, searing the ground with its corrupt lifeblood as Kaerith landed, talons skidding against the earth.
Enraged, the creature turned its full wrath on Seryne, ignoring Kaerith entirely. It unleashed a storm of attacks—blades of shadow and energy carving through the air with destructive force.
But Seryne was untouchable.
Her form flowed through the chaos like wind through leaves, her body guided by a serenity so absolute it felt unreal. Every swing, every strike—predicted. Every impact—redirected. She fought with grace, but it was a grace sharpened into inevitability—as though the monster's failure had already been written, and she was simply performing the script.
Her energy blade dissolved, reshaping into a staff of soft golden light. With minimal effort, she parried the beast's scythes—each deflection planting invisible seals upon its body, binding it further to its destined end.
The creature's attacks grew frantic, desperate. From its remaining arms, it unleashed searing waves of shadow energy—destruction that twisted space itself.
Seryne merely touched the ground.
The air shattered where she stood moments before, explosions of darkness swallowing the earth. But she was already beyond their reach—each step she took was the step she was always meant to take.
And now—the monster felt it.
A great, crushing weight of futures unseen bore down on its monstrous form. Visions of its death, endless and inevitable, cascaded through its fractured consciousness. The echoes of its failure screamed in its mind, an unending chorus of defeat.
It hesitated.
Kaerith struck.
She blurred forward, her wings propelling her like a missile. Twisting into a deadly spiral, she drove her heel into the creature's jaw. The impact was monstrous—a teeth-shattering, bone-breaking detonation that cracked its skull and sent it reeling.
Yet the beast refused to fall.
Its remaining arms gathered pure, corrupted power, a final, desperate act. Dark energy burned in its palms—power that would annihilate everything.
But it was too late.
Seryne moved.
Her staff shattered into particles of light, reforming into a spear—a pure, radiant lance of destiny. She ran toward the beast, her form a blur of grace, every explosion and strike from the monster missing by fractions, by inevitabilities.
And then—she touched it.
Not with force. Not with rage.
Just a single, gentle touch of the spear's tip to the creature's chest.
The inevitable was fulfilled.
The creature's body collapsed inward, folding into itself without explosion or scream—only the soft, final sound of something becoming nothing. It ceased not just in form, but in concept—as though it had never belonged to the world.
The air fell still.
Kaerith stood, her breathing ragged but her body unbroken.
Seryne lowered her hand, the spear fading back into her blindfold, which wrapped once more over her eyes. Her voice, soft and distant, barely broke the silence.
— Death is not an end… It is only… inevitability.
She turned to Kaerith, her voice almost a whisper.
— The inevitable cannot be avoided.