The black chains pulsed again.
Stronger.
This time, the sound was not only metallic.
There was something behind it.
Something alive.
A tremor ran through the entire chamber, climbing the walls, crossing the ground, reaching their feet like a warning no one needed to translate. The air grew heavier. Denser. As if every breath had to pass through an invisible layer before reaching their lungs.
No one moved.
No one spoke.
The Zaraqnil remained still.
But it was no longer the same stillness.
Her body trembled.
Small, involuntary movements ran through the legs bound by the chains, like electrical impulses failing inside something too large to be contained. The dark filaments between the plates of her exoskeleton vibrated slowly, as if reacting to a force coming from within.
And then—
She moved.
Not violently.
Wrongly.
Her head lifted slowly, as if every inch resisted something unseen. Her white hair slid back, revealing her face clearly for the first time.
Her eyes opened.
There was no focus.
No recognition.
But there was awareness.
— …Protect…
Her voice came out low.
Dragged.
As if it had to cross a distance greater than space itself.
The chains vibrated harder.
— …her…
Mia held her breath.
Arthur didn't look away.
— …take her… far from here…
The tone wasn't aggressive.
It was urgent.
Desperate.
Like someone trying to speak before something worse took control.
Shirō frowned.
— She… she's talking to us?
The Zaraqnil blinked.
Once.
Twice.
Focus slowly returned.
She looked around.
At them.
At the space.
At herself.
— Who… are you…?
Her voice faltered.
— Where… am I…?
And then—
The dark energy appeared.
It didn't come from outside.
It came from within.
First, a thin line cut across her human arm.
A crack.
Black.
Alive.
Then another.
Climbing her neck.
Descending her torso.
Spreading like something that should not exist inside a body.
The Zaraqnil arched.
The scream came.
Loud.
Violent.
Inhuman.
It wasn't just pain.
It was violation.
Dark energy burst from within her in violent pulses, spreading through the arachnid body like an infestation. Her legs slammed against the chains, the links stretched to their limit, and the exoskeleton vibrated with a dry, cracking sound, as if something inside was about to break free.
— Fall back! — Alexius ordered.
Too late.
The first shadow appeared on the ground.
Small.
Fast.
With multiple legs.
Then another.
And another.
Spiders.
Made of pure darkness.
Moving in swarms.
Then the larger ones came.
Silhouettes rose along the walls.
Wide bodies.
Aggressive posture.
Familiar shapes.
Orcal.
The shadows carried the form of the race—but distorted, incomplete, like corrupted memories trying to exist again.
— Formation! — Alexius shouted.
The battle began.
Kidero moved first, his blade engulfed in flames as it cut through two of the shadow spiders at once. Light burst on impact, burning parts of the creatures—but not enough to destroy them completely. They recoiled… and came back.
Faster.
More aggressive.
Ayame released a lateral surge of lightning, opening space around Mia, while Shirō intercepted an Orcal rushing from the right. The impact was solid—but the shadow fragmented and reformed within seconds, as if the strike had never been enough.
— They won't stop! — Mia said, releasing wind to push back a group advancing along the ground.
Arthur moved.
His blade cut one of them in half.
Blue energy surged on impact.
The creature split.
And closed again.
He stepped back.
— We can't eliminate them like this…
The answer came in numbers.
From the ground.
From the walls.
From the air.
More.
And more.
And more.
Kazuko tried to keep up.
His body failed.
But he didn't stop.
He attacked one of the smaller ones.
Missed.
Almost fell.
Kidero grabbed him by the shoulder and threw him back into position.
— Stay up!
The shadows around Kazuko hesitated.
For a second.
Enough to notice.
They didn't attack him.
They diverted.
And attacked others.
Mia saw it.
Arthur saw it.
But there was no time to understand.
Only survive.
— We're not going to hold this for long! — Ayame shouted.
And she was right.
The numbers kept increasing.
The pressure kept rising.
Every opening they created was filled instantly.
It was a siege.
— …enough.
Alexius' voice cut through the chaos.
He was looking to the side.
To the ground.
To the sword.
The same sword.
The one that had fallen.
The one holding the spirit.
— Arthur!
The call came as an order.
Direct.
No explanation.
— The sword! Go!
Arthur didn't hesitate.
He turned.
And ran.
The world shifted.
No formation.
No group.
Only a path.
Shadows came at him.
He cut the first.
Dodged the second.
The third almost struck from behind—he spun, his blade carving a blue arc that forced the creature back just long enough.
But they didn't stop.
They never stopped.
The ground felt heavier.
The air thicker.
Each step demanded more than the last.
Still—
He kept moving.
The sword was there.
On the ground.
Partially buried beneath the shattered crystal fragments.
He reached it.
Stopped for a second.
The spirit was still there.
Curled.
Smaller.
Unstable.
Dark energy still flickered across parts of her form, like remnants that had not been fully removed.
But she was no longer screaming.
Only… existing.
In pain.
Arthur's eye burned.
Blue surfaced.
Faint.
Unstable.
But present.