The marsh was thunder. The swamp shook beneath the weight of eight colossi moving at once, their roars rolling across the drowned land like the crash of mountains breaking. Each swing of their claws sent waves racing through the bog, each step split stone, each breath belched void-fire.
And still the swarm came.
Amphibious fiends clambered over one another in their frenzy, claws scraping as they dragged themselves onto the altar, jaws wide, eyes glowing. Winged demons circled the air in black flocks, diving in endless spirals that blotted the stars. Abyss zealots still chanted on the drowned ridges, their staves glowing with corruption as they hurled curses across the field. Siege beasts lumbered at the edges, hurling boulders of stone and flame in arcs that shook the ground where they landed.
Noctis was never still.
His six wings beat in constant rhythm, carrying him through the storm. The Twilight Reaver cleaved in arcs of crimson fire, severing swathes of fiends in every stroke. The Bloodfang Reapers spun in orbit, weaving sigils of death in the air, carving flyers from the sky before they reached him. He hacked, he slashed, he carved, every motion flowing into the next. Each strike killed dozens. Each heartbeat ended hundreds.
A Titan swung downward, its claw aimed to crush the altar into rubble. Noctis leapt skyward, his wings snapping once, clearing the blow by inches. The impact split the stone beneath, shattered the ichor pools, and sent waves crashing through the bog.
Another claw scythed sideways to catch him. He dissolved into Dominion Step IX, slipping into marrow-shadow and void. He reappeared on the Titan's shoulder, the Reaver already driving deep into the seam of its armor. Crimson fire seared as ichor exploded outward. He ripped the blade free, then leapt away, leaving behind a spectral double. The phantom slashed once before fading, carving dozens of climbing demons from the Titan's back.
The giant staggered, roaring, but another came in from the side, swinging its arm in a massive arc. Noctis rolled through the air, wings folding, twisting past the strike in a blur. The blow crashed into the wounded Titan's chest instead, bone cracking with the sound of thunder. The two colossi reeled, roaring at each other as ichor spilled into the marsh.
Noctis's laughter carried above them, sharp and cold.
The swarm did not pause. They leapt for him even in the air, winged fiends clawing for his wings, amphibians leaping from Titan arms in desperate lunges. He spun once, Reapers whistling outward in a sweeping orbit. The crimson blades sliced the swarm apart in arcs of fire, leaving trails of burning ash in the air.
Still they came.
He opened his palm. Blood Spears formed in a circle around him, crimson lances humming with hunger. He cast them outward, hundreds at once, pinning fiends through their chests, their limbs, their skulls. Each spear detonated in fire, exploding the air in waves of heat and ash.
Below, zealots screamed as they raised wards of corruption, chains of shadow leaping from their staves to bind him. Noctis stepped again, slipping through the chains with ease. His reappearance left a phantom slash that tore the zealots apart before they could cry out. Their bodies dissolved into ichor, their chants cut off in silence.
The Titans moved together now, their claws sweeping in coordinated arcs. They tried to trap him between their strikes, feinting and circling. Noctis darted through them, weaving so close that their claws collided when they missed. Sparks exploded. Ichor sprayed. Two giants slammed their fists into each other, the impact shaking the marsh like an earthquake.
Noctis twisted past another strike, his wings folding and snapping open again. He dove beneath a Titan's arm, slashing its elbow seam. Bone cracked, ichor burst, the arm falling limp at its side. The Titan roared, staggering, lashing wildly — and its claw smashed into the leg of its ally. Both reeled, collapsing against one another.
The swarm pressed harder, driven mad by his laughter. He answered with Crimson Tempest. His wings beat in unison, bloodflame and storm fused into a hurricane. The wind tore the swamp apart, ripping trees from their roots, shredding demons into ash. Flyers were dragged into the tempest and burned alive, their screams lost in the storm. The marsh itself steamed beneath the heat.
Still the Titans fought. Still the swarm clawed.
One colossus lunged low, jaws wide to swallow him whole. Noctis stepped again, vanishing into shadow, reappearing inside its maw. His blade burst through the back of its throat, searing crimson. He wrenched it free, the head jerking upward with a bellow that shook the sky. He leapt clear, his phantom double striking once inside the mouth before fading, severing its tongue as it dissolved.
The Titan staggered, choking on its own ichor. Another struck for him, but again its claw slammed into the wounded giant instead, tearing its jaw from its skull. The colossus collapsed into the swamp, thrashing.
The swarm still clawed for him, clambering over its falling body. He cut them apart in sweeps, but their numbers never waned. Each kill fed his Grid, his essence rising with every stroke. His wings glowed brighter, his aura pressed heavier, his laughter carried sharper.
The Titans grew enraged, their roars shaking the drowned marshes. They closed around him, eight at once, claws converging from every side. He stepped again, weaving through marrow and void, slipping between their strikes. He emerged behind one, his blade plunging deep into its spine seam. The armor split, ichor gushed, the Titan buckling as he tore it open.
Another tried to seize him, its claw snapping shut. He folded his wings, rolling between its fingers, the blow catching only air. It smashed into the Titan opposite instead, its claws driving deep into its ally's chest. Ichor erupted in torrents, the swamp drowning in black flame.
The swarm shrieked, crushed beneath the Titans' steps, burned alive in the flood, still charging forward without end.
Noctis cut, hewed, burned, and stepped, his form weaving between colossi, his wings leaving trails of flame. Every dodge became a kill, every strike drew ichor, every motion broke another demon. The marsh was chaos, but within it he moved like dominion given flesh.
The eight Titans bellowed again, their voices ragged with rage and pain. The swarm shrieked louder, endless, pressing harder. The marsh shook beneath them all.
Noctis's eyes glowed brighter. He spread his wings wide. His voice carried above the roar, cold and sharp.
"Break yourselves against me."
And the war of the marsh deepened into madness.
The drowned marsh was fire and shadow. The eight Titans circled like mountains given life, their massive forms blotting out the stars, their roars drowning the shrieks of the swarm. Every swing of their claws split the swamp into geysers of ichor, every step crushed hundreds of their own lesser kin.
But the swarm did not falter.
Still the fiends clambered across the broken ground, throwing themselves forward in endless waves. Still the zealots waded through muck and ruin, shrieking their chants, binding curses to slow his wings. Still the sky seethed with black flocks, their shadows blotting the horizon as they dove again and again. The battlefield pressed with such weight that even Titans struggled for ground.
And at the center of it all moved Noctis.
His six wings flashed with crimson fire, draconic scale, and black flame. The Twilight Reaver cleaved in arcs of sovereign hunger, while the Bloodfang Reapers carved crimson sigils into the air, scythes that cut faster than the eye could follow. He darted between colossi, every slash carving ichor, every beat of wings leaving storms of fire.
A Titan lunged with both hands, trying to seize him. He vanished into Dominion Step IX, slipping through marrow and void, emerging behind its back. His blade plunged deep into the seam of its spine, ichor bursting outward in torrents. A phantom double lashed once across its neck before fading, severing more of its armor as it reeled.
Another Titan swung at him in fury, but he twisted aside, wings snapping open in a burst of flame. The blow slammed into its ally instead, bone shattering with the sound of thunder. Both giants staggered, ichor spraying black across the marsh.
The swarm leapt to fill the gap, climbing onto Titan limbs, diving from the sky. He swept them aside with Crimson Tempest, his wings creating a hurricane of bloodflame. Flyers dissolved to ash in the gale, their bodies shredded and burned as they screamed into nothing.
Yet even amid chaos, the Titans began to adapt.
Their roars grew deeper, their movements less wild. They circled in unison now, their claws striking not in rage but with intent. They began to feint, one drawing him toward the other, their strikes converging where he dodged. Their sheer size became a cage.
Noctis carved through another wave of zealots, his laughter sharp above their screams. But as he rose into the air again, he felt the shift. Eight colossi, eight shadows, eight sets of eyes burning void. They had stopped flailing. They were hunting.
One lunged low. Another swung from the side. He stepped again, vanishing into marrow-shadow, reappearing between their strikes. His Reavers spun, carving through the swarm as his Reaver slashed a seam of armor open. But already a third Titan was moving. A claw scythed down, forcing him upward.
The fourth was waiting.
Its massive hand snapped shut where he dodged, slamming him into its palm. He twisted, blade cutting, carving ichor in streaks, but the grip held for a heartbeat too long. A fifth Titan's fist came down like a hammer, crushing him against the fourth's claw. The impact shook the marsh, waves of ichor bursting outward.
A sixth swept its arm across the ruin, catching his body mid-air, flinging him like a shard of glass into the ground. The seventh and eighth struck together, both claws smashing into the broken temple at once. The ruin collapsed in thunder, stone exploding, ichor raining as the altar shattered into rubble.
The swamp roared in triumph.
The swarm shrieked as one, hurling themselves forward, eager to tear the rubble apart, to feast on the Sovereign's body. The zealots screamed their hymns, raising curses high. The Titans bellowed, their voices shaking the marsh, their eyes blazing brighter as they loomed above the ruin.
Silence followed, broken only by the hiss of ichor and the crash of stone settling.
Then crimson light seared upward.
The rubble exploded outward in a storm of fire and blood. Stones scattered across the marsh, smashing into Titans, crushing demons into ash. Noctis rose from the ruin, wings spread wide, his body glowing with power. His armor was unbroken. His skin untouched. His aura heavier than ever, pressing like a storm across the battlefield.
He laughed.
The sound was sharp, cold, carrying across the marsh, cutting through roars and screams alike. The swarm faltered for a heartbeat. Even the Titans shifted, their massive forms pausing as his laughter rolled.
"Pathetic," he said, his voice a blade. "You think to bury me?"
The Reavers spun, orbitals blazing crimson arcs in the air. The Twilight Reaver burned like a shard of sovereign fire in his hand. His six wings spread, searing the night with crimson, scale, and black flame.
The swarm shrieked and surged again, driven mad. He moved through them like a storm given form. His blade severed dozens each swing, his orbitals reaping hundreds each pass. He stepped through marrow and void, phasing through a Titan's chest, leaving behind a phantom double that slashed once and faded, tearing more demons from its body.
The Titans bellowed in fury, striking harder, faster. But their coordination faltered. Every blow meant to catch him instead slammed into another when he wove too close. A claw aimed for his throat hit an ally's shoulder. A fist meant to crush him smashed another's jaw. The colossi struck each other more than him, their massive bodies staggering, ichor pouring from their wounds.
Noctis twisted between them, his laughter rising sharper each time they wounded themselves. He slashed, stepped, burned, carved, every motion feeding essence into his Grid. His aura pressed heavier, his veins glowed brighter, his eyes burned like crimson stars.
The swamp itself steamed beneath his wings.
The swarm clawed and shrieked, the Titans roared, the marsh shook as if the land itself would break. At the center of it all stood the Sovereign, unscathed, laughing as he turned the abyss against itself.
The Western Marshes shook as though the bones of the earth were breaking. The eight Demonic Titans bellowed, their roars ripping across the drowned land, void-fire spilling from their wounds. The swamp was madness—swarm shrieking in endless waves, zealots howling until their throats tore, siege beasts dragging themselves through ichor, flyers blotting out the sky.
At the center of it all, Noctis hovered in the storm, six wings outstretched, his eyes burning like twin stars of bloodfire. His laughter rolled across the marsh, sharp, cold, sovereign.
The Titans charged.
Eight colossi moved as one, their claws sweeping, their steps shattering stone, their shadows devouring the ground. The swamp itself boiled with their fury.
Noctis answered.
His wings beat once, the air detonating in shockwaves. The Bloodfang Reapers spun in crimson arcs, orbiting him like blades of sovereign will. The Twilight Reaver blazed with light, its edge burning brighter than the void-fire around him. His aura pressed down like a storm.
"Fall."
He vanished into Dominion Step IX, his body dissolving into marrow-shadow. He reappeared atop a Titan's shoulder, his blade plunging down into the seam of its neck. Ichor geysered upward, boiling against his aura. A phantom double struck once more before fading, its blade carving through climbing demons.
The Titan reeled, but another swung for him. He twisted off its shoulder, wings snapping, letting the blow crash into its ally instead. Bone split, ichor sprayed black, both giants staggering as their roars shook the marsh.
The swarm came again, endless, clawing up Titan legs, leaping from their arms, diving from the sky. He answered with Exsanguinate Nova, crimson light exploding outward. Tens of thousands shrieked as their marrow ripped free, their corpses collapsing in heaps as essence streamed into him. His Grid flared brighter, his veins glowing with sovereign fire.
The Titans pressed harder. Two lunged at once, their claws sweeping in arcs meant to trap him. Noctis spread his wings wide and unleashed Crimson Tempest. Wind and flame fused into a hurricane of bloodfire. The gale caught their arms, twisting their strikes off course. Their claws smashed into each other, the sound cracking across the swamp like thunder.
He dove between them, Reavers cutting a path. His wings beat once, launching him upward. He raised the Reaver high, then unleashed Eclipse Dominion.
His body blurred into a streak of black-crimson flame, scything across three Titans at once. His path carved deep lines into their armor, their cores seared, ichor erupting in torrents. He burst from the other side, his wings unfurling as the colossi roared, their bodies staggered, their wounds blazing crimson.
The swarm still clawed, still screamed, still leapt for his throat. He cut them apart in sweeps, every motion feeding his Grid, every kill swelling his aura heavier. His laughter grew sharper, colder.
The Titans tried again. Four swung at once, their claws converging from every side. He dissolved into shadow, stepping through their strikes. He reappeared behind one, the Reaver plunging into its chest. The blade burned crimson, piercing through its runes, splitting its core.
The Titan's roar died in its throat. It collapsed forward, its massive body crashing into the swamp, ichor erupting like a flood.
Seven remained.
Their fury deepened. They bellowed together, their voices cracking the drowned ruins, their eyes burning brighter. They pressed in tighter, claws sweeping in storms of bone and flame.
Noctis cut through them like dominion given flesh.
He slashed, stepped, burned, carved. His orbitals severed arms at the elbow, his Reaver split armor at the seams, his spectral doubles struck wherever he passed. The Titans hit each other more than him, their claws smashing into allies, their bodies staggering as ichor drenched the marsh.
Another fell, its chest torn open by Eclipse Dominion, its core ripped apart in sovereign flame.
Six.
Another lost its jaw, Noctis's blade carving it free before forcing its ally's fist through its skull.
Five.
The swamp quaked as another collapsed into the mire, its spine torn out by his strikes.
Four.
The swarm shrieked in madness, clawing over corpses, leaping from Titans, diving in endless waves. Noctis cut them down without pause, his aura swallowing their essence, his veins glowing brighter each breath.
He rose above the last four, his wings spread, his voice carrying above the roars.
"Enough."
The Reavers spun outward, orbitals blazing crimson trails. The Reaver burned brighter than fire. His wings flared, shadow and flame fusing. He unleashed everything at once—Sovereign Arsenal, Crimson Tempest, Eclipse Dominion, Exsanguinate Nova.
The marsh exploded in fire and shadow.
The swarm was obliterated in a storm of crimson light. The Titans staggered, their bodies torn open, their runes shattered, their ichor pouring into the swamp like rivers. He stepped again, moving through marrow and void, reappearing inside one's chest. His blade ripped its core apart from within.
Three.
He burst free, wings snapping wide, his phantom double slashing another's spine. His Reaver carved upward, splitting its head in two.
Two.
The last pair lunged in desperation, their claws sweeping in arcs of void-fire. Noctis twisted between them, his wings trailing black flame. He drove their strikes into each other, their claws ripping each other open. As they reeled, he dove, his blade tearing their cores apart in one streak of crimson fire.
One.
The last colossus roared as it collapsed into the swamp, its body dissolving, its void-fire sputtering into nothing.
Silence broke across the marsh.
The swarm shrieked, but already they faltered, their frenzy broken, their voices fractured. The zealots fell silent, their chants cut off. The siege beasts bellowed once before collapsing into the mire. Flyers wheeled overhead, then scattered into the night.
Only Noctis remained, hovering above the drowned altar, his wings unfurled, his aura pressing across the broken land.
He spread his arms wide.
The Devour began.
The Crucible opened, crimson light flaring across the marsh. The corpses of demons dissolved into essence, their marrow ripped free, their blood streaming into him in rivers. Titan carcasses split apart as their cores burst, their ichor torn upward in torrents of fire. Soul fragments shrieked as they were consumed, their echoes silenced.
The marsh itself began to wither. Ichor drained into the Crucible, the swamp collapsing into ash and dust. The drowned ruins shook, their stones dissolving into crimson mist.
Essence poured into him without end. His Grid blazed, his veins burning brighter, his aura pressing heavier. His laughter rolled across the dying marsh, sharp, cold, sovereign.
The Western Marshes vanished into fire and shadow.
And still the Devour had only begun.