Asher moved first.
He stepped in before the soul-eater could fully spread. His sword came down in a direct strike, aimed at the dense core again. The blade cut deeper this time. The core shuddered.
The soul-eater reacted fast.
Pressure slammed into Asher like a wall. The ground under his feet cracked, but he held his position. He pushed forward through it and twisted the blade, widening the cut.
A low sound came from the creature. Not a scream. More like strain.
"You are not prey," it said.
"No," Asher answered. "I'm the end."
The soul-eater pulled back and then surged forward again, trying to wrap around him. Shadows closed in from all sides, pressing in on his body and mind.
Asher activated the death token.
The pressure changed.
Where the shadow touched him, it broke apart. Not burned. Not pushed away. Just cut off.
The soul-eater staggered.
"That power—" it said.
"Is not yours," Asher said.
