Caelus's face twisted in anger, his chi spiking violently.
"Get off your fucking high horse. World's protector? My ass. You're just as bad as Neriah. I'm tired of both your shit. I see why Mad Dog and Zhen can't stand being near either of you. This—"
Before Orion's verbal assault could continue, both men froze. Their eyes snapped toward Erenyx. The ice was cracking.
Thin hairline fractures split across the frozen surface of her body.
"No... no, no, no, no..." Caelus's voice trembled as panic took hold. He clasped his hands together, summoning chains from the ceiling, floor, and walls— binding Erenyx's body in place.
"Don't tell me it's her!" Orion shouted, lightning sparking violently around him.
"Shut up! Let me focus!" Caelus barked back. More chains erupted from the ground, locking her down completely, leaving no room to move.
Then — the ice around her eyes shattered. Her irises glowed an unfamiliar sky-blue. Slowly, cracks spread further until her upper body broke free.
Erenyx chuckled.
No... the soul inside her chuckled.
"How many hundreds of years has it been since I've breathed air?" The laugh deepened, twisting into something feral. "Caelus? Is that your aura I sense?"
"She's blind," Orion muttered under his breath.
"Ilvya," Caelus said coldly. "I will not allow you to repeat what your brother did."
Ilvya's grin widened. "Conro's alive? That dirty bastard isn't even thinking about bringing me back, is he?!" Her laughter halted abruptly. "No... I'm bound to something — something unnatural." Her voice dropped into a guttural growl. "What did you do to me, Caelus?"
Caelus stepped closer, pressing a finger to her forehead. In an instant, her sight returned.
"I've decided to use your power for something good," he said, his crimson eyes burning into hers.
"You think you can lock me inside some little girl's body?" Ilvya sneered. "You must be more foolish than I thought. And where's that bastard, huh? Didn't even bother to come see me?"
"Neriah is far above your antics," Caelus spat.
Ilvya chuckled darkly. "Not even your own lackey believes that. Right, Storm Emperor Orion?"
Orion scoffed, turning away. "Keep me out of this, Ice Witch Ilvya."
She mockingly gagged. "I always hated that name... just like I hated you, Neriah." Her tone shifted, venom dripping with each word as she stared directly into Caelus's eyes.
"I know you're listening. You're more of a damn fool than I thought if you believe I'll roll over and play pawn for this little girl. I'm nothing like my brother Conro."
A wicked smile crept onto her lips.
"I am much, much superior."
Caelus's face twitched with fury.
"You're not going anywhere."
Ilvya's smile widened, sharp and cold.
"Then you'll have to kill me, Caelus... and your precious child along with me."
Caelus's anger snapped like a cord. His chi spiked, the air itself humming.
...
"Now what the hell do you want us to do?" Orion barked, raw with frustration.
"What do you want from me, Orion? I'm trying my hardest here!" Caelus shot back.
"Are you joking? Look at the situation we're in! You did the same thing to the boy and look where we are — Ilvya is leaps and bounds stronger than her brother. If she gets any of her power back, we're fucked!" Orion's voice cracked with urgency.
A cold dread rolled through the forest like a living thing and everything went still.
"Shit." Caelus bolted for the dojo. Even bound, Ilvya's cackle threaded through the air—frost spitting from her lips as she savored the return of power.
"When I get these chains—" she began, voice slick with malice, but Orion cut her off.
He thrust his hand forward. "El Thor."
A jagged beam of purple lightning tore from his palm and struck her. Her scream ricocheted through the rafters.
"Damn you!" she spat.
"Try it again and I'll fry you," Orion said, flat and cold.
"Start it, Caelus," he added.
Caelus moved to the center of the room. He sat, legs crossed, hands folding into an ancient seal. His eyes were hollow, iron-cold. Ilvya sneered at him, amusement licking her tone.
"Ah — finally done mimicking others? Let's see what you can actually do, Caelus," she taunted.
He ignored her. For a heartbeat the dojo only smelled of blood and old iron — then—
CRASH!
An ancient pillar, its stone carved in runes no one alive read, slammed through the dojo roof and rooted into the floor. From its heart, an iridescent, gold-like chain shot forward and hammered into Ilvya. She howled. Another pillar smashed down. Another chain. One after another, until eight pillars ringed her, each chain burrowing into flesh and spirit.
Ilvya's face contorted — part agony, part furious incredulity. "What the hell are you doing to me?" she hissed through clenched teeth.
"Orion, we shall begin," Caelus said, voice stripped of warmth. He sounded colder than the man Orion knew.
Orion stepped forward, left hand outstretched. "Kaminari?" he asked.
Caelus inclined his head. "Begin the chant."
A hush fell, the kind that swallowed sound. Then they spoke together, low and steady—an old rhythm that seemed to vibrate the very grain of the floor.
"Two souls entwined, yet one must sleep,
Fate's river winds where none may keep,
What's lost to a flame, frost returns,
By will unbent, by heart made whole,
Let silence reign within the soul."
"Kaminari," Orion finished.
Every pillar leapt to life. White, divine lightning crackled along each chain, converging on a single point above Ilvya. The air tasted metallic; the lights cast her in a halo of impossible cold. Then divine judgment struck—pure, blinding, surgical.
The sound that came from Ilvya was no human scream. It was layered, a maddening duet of two wills tearing at each other — one voice ancient and cruel, the other raw and desperate. The dojo filled with the stench of ozone and steam as the lightning burned and the ice hissed away.
"Keep fueling it, Orion. It is not complete," Caelus said, voice flat as a dull blade.
Deep inside Erenyx's mind the scene echoed like a nightmare. There, the lightning's thunder crashed across a frozen epmty plain. Ilvya convulsed within that mindscape, steam rising from her skin. Her words were poison, spat through clenched teeth.
"I promise you, brat — the moment I get free, I'll slaughter you and everyone you love. I'll make you watch. I'll save that bastard Caelus for last and make sure he dies the worst way."
Erenyx crouched, small and shaking, and answered with something that only reached Ilvya's ear.
"You're one sick bitch, aren't you? Why do you hate them so much?"
Ilvya's laugh was a blade. But in the physical world the chains held. The lightning hammered. The chant pulsed like a heartbeat. The duel—one of wills, one of blood and fate—was not yet over, but for now the ritual forced Ilvya back into the dark from which she had clawed.
Outside, the forest shivered and then went quiet, as if listening.