As the leader's stolen power began to unravel, his form started to shrink and shift back toward what he once was—a tall, proud-looking man with kind eyes that were now filled with pain and regret.
"Hindi… hindi ko sinasadya—I didn't mean to," he whispered, falling to his knees as the last of the stolen energy left his body. "I just wanted to be strong enough to protect my people."
Miguel stepped forward, his golden energy surrounding the man to keep him stable. "Tell me," he said gently.
The man looked up, tears streaming down his face. "My name is Marcus. I was once a Babaylan cultivator too—Lola Sabel's first student. When raiders attacked our village years ago, I was too weak to save anyone I loved. I swore I'd never be weak again."
He closed his eyes. "I discovered a way to absorb other cultivators' nodes—to take their power and make it my own. I told myself I was gathering strength to protect all Aswang, but… the power took over. I forgot why I started, forgot about balance. I became the very thing I swore to fight against."
Below, the remaining evil cultivators stopped fighting as they heard his words—many of them had been followers who believed they were fighting for a better future.
"Marcus," a familiar voice called out. Kapitan Aris stepped forward, his face filled with sorrow. "I knew you once. You were my friend. We trained together."
"I'm sorry," Marcus said, his voice breaking. "I've destroyed so much… taken so many lives. There's no redemption for me."
"Redemption isn't about what you've done," Miguel said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "It's about what you do now. The balance you've broken—we can fix it together."