Meanwhile, the Titan had moved. It was closer now, its fist descending toward him.
But the Titan was wrong too. Its stone body was covered in eyes—blinking, weeping, all focused on Max.
Max Shadow Stepped on pure reflex, barely avoiding being crushed.
When he materialized from the shadows, he felt something inside him shift, like his organs were rearranging themselves. He looked down at his hands and saw his fingers had elongated, the joints in the wrong places, claws instead of nails.
How long was I gone? A second? Five? Ten?
He couldn't tell.
The pain followed him in waves. It felt like his soul was being peeled apart layer by layer, each piece examined and corrupted before being shoved back into place.
[CORRUPTION: 52 → 56/100]
[STAGE 3 CORRUPTION EFFECTS ACTIVE]
[SEVERE HALLUCINATIONS BEGINNING]
[REALITY PERCEPTION CRITICALLY COMPROMISED]
[PHYSICAL TRANSFORMATION ACCELERATING]
The hallucinations intensified.
Max blinked, and suddenly he wasn't alone in the canyon.
His mother stood before him. Not her avatar—her real-world appearance, exactly as she'd looked when they'd gone shopping.
"Max," she said softly, stepping closer. "My amazing son. Look at how powerful you've become."
Her voice was perfect. Exactly real and that's what made it so terrible.
"Mom?" Max's voice cracked. "You're not real. You're not here."
"Does it matter?" She reached out, cupping his face with gentle hands.
The touch felt real—warm, soft, maternal. But where her fingers pressed against his cheeks, he felt his skin beginning to rot, to peel away.
"I'm so proud of you. You have saved us. Given us a life we never dreamed of."
Max felt tears burning his eyes—both in the game and, distantly, he knew in the real world too.
"But I'm changing," he whispered. His reflection in her eyes showed him what he'd become. "I'm becoming something else. Something wrong."
His mother's expression were filled with love and acceptance. "You're becoming what you need to be."
She leaned in, pressing her forehead against his.
"Don't fight it, my sweet boy. Let it happen. For me."
Something in Max's mind screamed that this was wrong, that his mother would never say these things.
But god, he wanted it to be real. Wanted her approval so badly it hurt. Wanted to believe that she could look at what he was becoming.
"Mom, I—"
But then her face changed.
Her skin split open like a cocoon. The warmth drained from her eyes as they rotted in their sockets, liquefying and dripping down her face. Her mouth opened wider and wider, her jaw dislocating, tearing, until it was broken and hanging.
"Surrender to the void, child." The voice came from everywhere and nowhere, spoken by the thing wearing his mother's skin. "Join us. Become one with the darkness. We are hungry. So hungry. And you will feed us everything."
Her hands—still cupping his face—began to sink into his flesh.
Max screamed and lashed out with Voidreaver, however, the blade simply passed through his mother's body—
—through empty air.
She was gone.
He stood alone in the canyon, his hand shaking so badly he could barely hold his sword. Where her hands had touched his face, his skin was blackened, the flesh cracked and weeping dark fluid.
[CORRUPTION: 56 → 60/100]
[WARNING: CRITICAL CORRUPTION THRESHOLD REACHED]
[STAGE 4 EFFECTS ACTIVE]
The pain became unbearable.
Every breath was agony. Every heartbeat sent corruption deeper through his system, his blood turning black, pumping poison through his veins.
His bones ached, shifting under his skin. He could feel them changing shape, growing denser and most importantly, wrong.
And the hallucinations became a flood...
Elena materialized beside him, but she was no longer the grieving widow he had left at the base camp. This Elena was transformed. Her hair were loose and flowing around her shoulders, fluttering freely under the moonlight. Her modest herbalist gown were gone.
The dress—if it could even be called that—was deep emerald green, but this version was obscene. The fabric was so thin it was practically transparent, clinging to every curve like a second skin.
Max could see everything—the shape of her breasts, the curve of her waist, the swell of her hips and even the triangle between her thighs, barely concealed by the fabric.
She wore nothing underneath.
Her face was flushed, lips parted and breathing fast as if she'd been running. Her eyes—those gentle, kind eyes that had looked at him with gratitude when he'd helped her family—were glazed with something that made Max's stomach tighten with equal parts revulsion and desire.
Pure lust.
"Max," she breathed, and her voice was thick with need. "You came back. I knew you would. I've been waiting for you."
She moved closer, and Max could see every detail with painful clarity.
"Elena, you're not—" Max started, but his voice came out rough.
"Real?" She laughed, and the sound went straight through him. "Does it matter? I'm here now. And I've been thinking about you constantly since... since Thomas died."
She stopped just inches from him, close enough that Max could feel the heat from her nearly-naked body. Close enough to smell her.
Her hand reached out, fingers trailing along his arm. Where she touched, his corrupted skin tingled, sensation flooding through him that was far too intense, far too good.
"You're so different now," Elena whispered, her touch moving up his arm to his shoulder. "Your skin is so dark." Her thumb brushed across his lips. "So good."
"Elena, this isn't you talking," Max said, but his voice was weak, unconvincing even to himself. "This is the corruption making you—"
"Making me what?" Elena's other hand came up, both palms now pressed at his chest. Max could feel his heart hammering beneath her touch. "Making me say what I've wanted to say but couldn't? Making me admit what I've been feeling?"