The sea-mist parted as the Stone-Beast rose fully into view — a colossus forged not of flesh but living basalt, veins of molten rock pulsing dimly through its chest. Its eyes were hollow sockets of pressure-formed quartz, yet they watched with the ancient judgment of Tshepo.
And Vorrin… stood alone before it.
He was bleeding — shallow cuts across his forearms and shoulder where stone had raked too close — but his stance had not faltered. His spear, Twin reach, was cracked down one side but still alight with Pavilion flame.
The disciples behind him had long retreated, forced to abandon the causeway bridge as it crumbled behind this ancient avatar's stride. Only Vorrin remained between it and the heart of the Pavilion.
"You were meant to guard a world long lost," he shouted hoarsely, voice ragged, "not break what's left of it!"
The Stone-Beast did not answer.
It stepped forward, the stone beneath Vorrin's feet warping with the weight. Its massive arms drew back, one folding into an executioner's arc, the other unfurling into a spearhead of jagged shale.
Vorrin exhaled, quiet.
Then moved.
Like a flame dashing into storm, he surged forward — sliding beneath the crushing arm and striking for the core, for the vein of light behind its collarbone. Twin reach flared, fire cascading with a snap of stored Pavilion essence.
CRACK.
The spear struck.
But not deep enough.
The Stone-Beast reeled, staggered — then slammed both fists into the earth, sending a quake outward. Vorrin was flung sideways, bouncing once, coughing blood.
Still, he rose.
Behind him, the sigils along the Pavilion's walls shimmered. He didn't need to look — Feng Xian's flame had ignited below. That was enough.
"I see now," Vorrin muttered, dragging himself upright. "You weren't here to stop me."
He planted Twin reach into the ground, breathing evenly, centering his Qi even as the beast closed in.
"You came to test him."
The Stone-Beast paused.
Vorrin smiled faintly.
"Then know this, guardian: You won't reach him."
And with his final breath before the clash, Vorrin whispered:
"Flame chooses flame."
He leapt — Twin reach blazing with all the inner reserves left to him — straight into the core of the colossus as it swung.
A final impact.
A storm of light.
The chamber shook as fire and stone clashed in silence, and across the Pavilion, elders, disciples, and sea alike felt the cost of loyalty.