The world was shaking.
Not metaphorically—Aeryn actually felt the ground quiver as he staggered through the smoke-soaked ruins of the upper sanctuary. The air still tasted of mana burn, sharp and metallic, like iron mixed with lightning. His clothes were singed, his breath ragged, his muscles vibrating with the residue of power he'd forced far past his limits.
And yet despite everything—
Despite the chaotic mana storm he had unleashed, despite the creatures he'd cut down, despite the weight of the battlefield—
Aeryn felt calm.
Because the person he'd been racing toward—
—was finally reaching out to him.
Elyndra.
Her fingers brushed his.
And the instant they touched, an echo of mana sparked between their palms—not the painful, chaotic kind that came from battle, but something warmer. Familiar. Resonant.
"Easy," she whispered, stepping close enough for him to steady himself on her shoulder. "Your veins are over-saturated. Just breathe."
Aeryn gave a shaky exhale. "I'm fine."
"You're very much not." She narrowed her eyes. "But we'll fix that."
He wanted to joke that she was starting to sound like an annoyed forest spirit, but his voice wasn't cooperating. Everything around him was vibrating, the way the world sometimes did when he drew too deeply from that strange wellspring within himself— the one that didn't feel like ordinary mana.
Aeryn swallowed.
"...You felt it too, didn't you?"
Elyndra met his gaze for a moment too long. "Yes. I did."
Behind them, the remnants of the battle still smoldered. Stone pillars had cracked under the force of exploding glyphs. Charred black claw-marks burned into the floor where corrupted beasts had fallen. The sanctum's ceiling was fractured open, letting daylight pour through the dust like golden rain.
Aeryn forced himself upright. "We should regroup with Aren. The beasts were headed west—"
Elyndra didn't move.
"Aeryn," she said quietly, "what happened to you back there?"
He stiffened.
She had seen it.
The surge.
The way his aura had twisted mid-combat.
That moment when something inside him—something frighteningly vast—had clawed its way to the surface.
He could still feel the aftertaste of it crawling up his spine.
"I… lost control," Aeryn said. "That's all."
"That wasn't 'losing control'." Elyndra stepped closer. "Your mana didn't overflow. It changed. It became something I've never felt before. Ancient. Raw. Primordial."
"I said I'm fine."
"You're not," she murmured, brushing ash off his cheek. "And the fact that you're pretending you are… worries me more than whatever that transformation was."
He opened his mouth—but a distant boom rattled the air beneath their feet.
Aeryn instantly moved in front of her.
But this time, Elyndra also moved in front of him at the same time.
They froze, realizing what they'd done.
A beat.
Then Elyndra let out a small breath—half laughter, half exasperation.
"You really haven't changed at all," she said softly.
Aeryn avoided her eyes. "Come on. Aren's probably waiting."
They started walking through the broken hallways, careful of the unstable rubble. Light filtered through the cracks above, illuminating drifting particles like falling stars. Every step left faint echoes in the once-sacred stone.
When they reached the edge of the sanctum wall, the battlefield outside came into view.
And Aeryn stopped.
The forest below was… wrong.
Not destroyed—not in the normal sense.
But altered.
The land was marked with spiraling black veins, like roots burned into the soil. The corruption wasn't spreading anymore, but its traces glowed faintly like dying embers.
Elyndra crouched beside one of the veins. Her fingers hovered above it, not touching.
"This isn't the beasts' corruption," she whispered. "It's the same resonance that was coming from you."
Aeryn stiffened.
"That's impossible."
"I'm telling you what I feel."
He shook his head. "My mana doesn't corrupt things."
"It didn't corrupt." She pointed at the bark of a nearby tree. Beneath the black scorch, a faint silver shimmer pulsed like a heartbeat. "It overwrote."
Aeryn felt his stomach drop.
He didn't know what scared him more—
That Elyndra was right,
or that some part of him already knew she was.
---
Meanwhile…
Aren ran through the forest at full speed, dual blades drawn, tearing through the remaining scraps of corrupted beasts still lingering on the outskirts.
But something was off.
Every beast he encountered—
Was already weakened.
Some were half-dead.
Some had collapsed before he reached them.
And the strangest part?
Each fallen creature had the same silver-black residue on its body.
Aren crouched beside a wolf-like monster whose breathing was slow and labored. Its eyes were hollow, but not hostile anymore. Almost… pacified.
"What did this?" Aren muttered.
A pulse rippled across the ground—like a giant heartbeat—followed by a faint ringing in his ears.
That's when he sensed Aeryn's aura.
And it wasn't normal.
It wasn't even mana.
Aren shot to his feet, eyes wide.
"Aeryn… what did you do this time…"
Without hesitation, Aren sprinted toward the sanctum ruins.
---
Back to Aeryn & Elyndra
They'd reached the outer courtyard when Elyndra finally spoke again.
"Aeryn… I don't think what awakened in you was meant to harm anything."
Aeryn kept walking, jaw tight. "It vaporized everything within twenty meters."
"Yes. But look."
She pointed at a patch of scorched ground. Under the charred surface, threads of new grass had already begun sprouting through the soil—silver-tipped, shimmering like moonlit frost.
Life was returning unnaturally fast.
Elyndra stepped closer to him.
"What awakened in you… restores as much as it destroys."
He clenched his fists.
"I don't want that power," Aeryn muttered.
"But it chose you," she said quietly. "You of all people."
Aeryn wished she hadn't said that.
Wished she didn't look at him like she understood something he didn't.
Wished the truth didn't feel so close he could taste it—
The ground shook again.
But this tremor wasn't from the forest.
It was footsteps.
Heavy ones.
Aren burst through the treeline a moment later.
"AERYN— ELYNDRA!" he yelled, waving one blade at them. "Tell me one of you didn't just create a forest-sized mana explosion because I swear—"
Aren stopped mid-sentence.
His eyes locked on Aeryn.
"…You did."
Aeryn sighed. "Nice to see you too."
"What the hell happened to your aura?" Aren demanded, striding up to him and placing a hand on his shoulder. "You're vibrating at three frequencies. Do you realize normal mages don't do that?"
"I didn't intend to."
Aren stared at him for a long second, searching his expression.
Then, surprisingly, Aren exhaled.
"Are you hurt?"
Aeryn blinked. "…Not really."
"Then I'm glad," Aren said simply.
Elyndra smiled faintly. "You sound relieved."
Aren tensed. "…Shut up."
But then his expression shifted, turning serious again.
"Listen. Whatever happened, we don't have time to unpack it. The corruption isn't dead. It's retreating."
Aeryn frowned. "Retreating?"
"Yes. Something is pulling it back. Like it has a source."
Elyndra stiffened. "The core…"
Aren nodded. "Exactly."
Aeryn's eyes darkened. "Then we go after it."
Aren crossed his arms. "You sure you can even stand without wobbling?"
Aeryn didn't respond with words. He stepped forward and summoned his blade.
It materialized instantly.
But… it didn't look like it did before.
The weapon was now streaked with faint silver cracks that glowed like starlight. The air around it hummed in harmony with Aeryn's pulse.
Aren's mouth fell open.
Elyndra whispered, "...Your weapon changed too."
Aeryn swallowed. "I didn't do this."
Aren pointed at the blade. "Well, it definitely wasn't me."
Then Aren clapped his hands once, hard.
"Alright. New plan. We track the corruption to its core. And we do it before that thing wakes up again and decides to devour half the continent."
Elyndra nodded. "It will be underground. Deep."
Aren smirked. "Then we dig."
Aeryn scratched his head. "You say that like we brought shovels."
Aren pointed at Aeryn's glowing sword. "We have a walking magical excavation tool."
Aeryn groaned.
Elyndra laughed softly.
The sound cut through the heaviness in Aeryn's chest, grounding him again.
"Let's go," she said.
---
The Descent
They moved through the forest with practiced coordination—Aren tracking the corruption's fading trail, Elyndra sensing shifts in mana flow, and Aeryn keeping watch for re-emerging beasts.
Every so often, Aeryn caught Aren watching him with a complex expression—half concern, half curiosity.
Finally, Aeryn asked, "What?"
Aren shrugged. "Just wondering how you're even walking. After a surge like that? Anyone else would be unconscious."
Aeryn looked away. "I'm not anyone else."
Aren raised an eyebrow. "Clearly."
Elyndra, walking beside them, added softly:
"You're becoming something."
Aeryn didn't answer.
Because he already knew.
Something inside him was growing. Spreading. Awakening.
And he wasn't sure if he was more afraid of losing himself—
Or of what would happen if he fully accepted it.
---
The Rupture Site
They finally reached a clearing where the corruption veins converged.
At the center was a yawning fissure in the earth—massive, jagged, radiating faint pulses of dark mana.
Aren leaned over the edge. "Well. That's not ominous at all."
Elyndra stepped forward, closing her eyes.
"I feel… something calling from below."
Aeryn did too.
A deep, rumbling resonance that vibrated against his bones.
Come back…
Complete…
Return…
Aeryn staggered.
Aren grabbed his arm. "Aeryn!"
"I'm fine."
"You're lying again."
Aeryn clenched his teeth. "Whatever's down there knows me. Or wants me."
Elyndra touched his shoulder. "Then we face it together."
Aren smirked. "Yeah. If some ancient underground misery wants you, it'll have to get through both of us."
Aeryn huffed. "You make it sound comforting."
"Because it is."
The three of them exchanged a look.
A silent agreement.
A binding choice.
Aeryn tightened his grip on his sword.
Elyndra summoned a glowing vine of mana around her hand.
Aren cracked his neck and readied both blades.
And together—
They jumped into the darkness.
Not knowing what waited below.
Only knowing one thing:
Whatever nightmare was in that abyss…
They were facing it as one.