Date: February 12, 542 years since the Fall of Zanra the Dishonored.
The amphitheater had become the antechamber of the abyss. The wounded Stone Chimera, deprived of its tail and the ability to fly, no longer resembled a majestic guardian—now it was a clot of primal rage, seeking to take all life with it into oblivion. The monster spun chaotically in place, crushing the remaining columns with its remaining pincer. Each blow of its obsidian blade tore chunks from the floor, turning them into deadly shrapnel.
Bert and Olaf were at their limit. Bert lay against the far wall, his left arm twisted at an unnatural angle, and the armor on his chest was pierced by a fragment. Olaf, holding a cracked shield with his last strength, tried to drag his comrade to safety, but another shockwave threw him aside. His inner essence pulsed weakly and erratically; his Vessel was practically empty.
Kaedan, leaning his back against the cracked wall, felt each breath burn his throat. His Unbreakable Armor had almost disappeared—only his dull, deeply dented vambraces remained. The Order's steel cuirass was crushed, and the young man distinctly heard a wheeze in his own lungs. His Warrior regeneration desperately tried to patch up the internal ruptures, but without a fresh influx of power, it was like trying to put out a forest fire with a glass of water.
"She... she's going to bring the whole hall down," Olaf rasped, wiping blood from his eyes.
The Chimera threw back its head, and in its maw, a dazzling light began to concentrate again. It was preparing for a final, most powerful energy release that would wipe the knights and the very foundation of this pyramid from existence. The air around the monster trembled, and small stones began to rise, drawn by the anomalous power.
Iskon stood in the center of this chaos, the only one who still retained relative mobility. His face was pale to the point of blueness, and his hands trembled finely from overexertion, but his gaze remained frighteningly clear. He wasn't looking at the monster, but at the ceiling of the amphitheater, where among the shadows hung colossal obsidian stalactites—the Temple's natural spears.
Iskon bent down and picked up a slab fragment weighing about a kilogram. In his hands, this stone seemed like ordinary debris, but in this place, scale was merely a question of will.
"Kaedan! One last time! Hold her head!" Iskon roared.
Kaedan didn't ask questions. Gathering the last crumbs of his power, he lunged forward. It was a suicide charge. He crashed into the Chimera's face at the very moment it was about to release its destructive beam. The young man wrapped his basalt-vambraced arms around the beast's jaws, pulling them together with his "Rooting" technique. Kaedan's inner energy flared with a bright grey flame, momentarily making him heavier than the monster itself. The Chimera choked on its own power, and the flash in its maw died, replaced by a guttural crunch.
At that instant, Iskon threw the stone upwards.
At the moment of the throw, the Scaling Spirit responded to its master's desperate call. The tiny fragment began to grow rapidly in mid-flight. By the time it reached the ceiling, it was a multi-ton boulder. The impact struck precisely at the base of the largest stalactite.
A sound like the groan of an entire mountain was heard. The ancient stalactite, ten meters long, broke off and began its fall.
"Scale: Colossal!" Iskon shouted, raising both arms.
The falling obsidian point began to expand before everyone's eyes. It absorbed the remnants of Iskon's power, transforming into a colossal black pillar weighing hundreds of tons. Gravity and the Scaling Spirit had done their work—the stalactite had become a celestial punishment.
Kaedan managed to roll aside a split second before the impact.
The crash was so loud that the knights momentarily lost their hearing. The floor of the amphitheater subsided, and the rising cloud of dust completely hid the Chimera. When the suspension settled somewhat, the knights saw that the central part of the monster—the scorpion's body—was literally pinned to the ground by the giant stone spike. The creature's legs twitched convulsively a few more times and then fell still. From under the pillar, a glowing, thick substance slowly flowed, and the Temple of True Equilibrium filled with the smell of ozone. The Guardian was dead.
Iskon collapsed to his knees, his eyes rolling back, blood flowing from his nose and ears. His Vessel was empty to the last drop. Bert and Olaf, overcoming their pain, crawled to him, checking his pulse.
Kaedan lay on his back, looking at the destroyed ceiling. His cuirass had finally crumbled, and his regeneration worked so slowly he felt every damaged fiber of his muscles. But he was smiling.
"We... we did it," he exhaled, feeling the cold silence of the pyramid envelop them, bringing long-awaited relief.
The victory in the first trial tasted bitter. Three of the four knights were severely wounded, and their leader was in a deep faint. But deep within Kaedan's Vessel, a new sensation was born—the weight of his energy had changed. It had acquired a structure that was about to transform into something monolithic.