The forest did not survive the night.
Trees lay splintered and burning, their blackened trunks clawing at a sky bruised purple and red by lingering divine light. The godsent pressed forward in relentless waves, their formation flawless, their silence more terrifying than any war cry.
Elira stood at the center of the chaos, breath ragged, shadows coiling around her like living armor.
Every heartbeat felt louder than the last.
"They're adapting," the King said, voice tight as he cleaved through another godsent, shadow-forged steel biting deep. "They learn fast."
As if to prove him right, the next wave came differently.
The godsent split apart, circling wide, spears humming as symbols flared along their weapons. A net of light slammed down, pinning the shadows to the ground. Elira cried out as pain lanced through her skull, the bond shrieking in protest.
One of the alien guards lunged to intercept—but a godsent detonated in a burst of holy fire, shredding its armor and sending it crashing lifelessly into the trees.
"Fall back!" the King roared.
The ground exploded between them.
A divine blade tore up from beneath the soil, forcing Elira to stumble backward. Another godsent appeared behind her, too fast, its weapon raised high.
The King moved.
He crossed the distance in a blur, slamming into the attacker with brutal force. They hit the ground hard, rolling through ash and broken roots. The King crushed the godsent's helm with his gauntlet, light screaming as it died—but a spear drove into his side at the same time.
Elira screamed.
Pain ripped through her ribs, white-hot and blinding. She dropped to her knees, hands clawing at the earth as blood soaked her dress once more.
"No—no—no—" she gasped.
Something in her snapped.
The chain between them burned bright and heavy, not dragging this time—but anchoring. Elira felt the shadows respond not to fear, but to fury sharpened into purpose.
She rose.
The shadows tore free from the light-net with a sound like ripping silk. They surged upward, not wild, not chaotic—but precise. Blades formed. Walls rose. Spears launched.
The godsent faltered for the first time.
Elira stepped forward, eyes darkening as the world narrowed to targets and intent.
"Stay away from him," she whispered.
The shadows obeyed.
They struck as one.
Light shattered across the forest floor, godsent collapsing under coordinated strikes that left smoking craters in their wake. The air filled with the sound of breaking divinity.
The god above the rift went silent.
Then amused.
The pressure in Elira's mind returned—heavier now, deliberate.
"Yes," the god murmured. "Show me what you are becoming."
And the ground beneath Elira began to glow.
The glow beneath Elira's feet burned brighter.
Runes carved themselves into the soil, ancient and wrong, their light pulsing in time with her heartbeat. Elira staggered as power surged upward through her legs, flooding her veins with heat and cold at once. The bond screamed—not in pain, but in warning.
"Move!" the King shouted.
Too late.
The runes detonated.
A column of divine force erupted from the ground, hurling Elira into the air. She spun helplessly as light wrapped around her like chains, tightening, constricting, dragging her upward toward the watching god. Her scream tore free as shadows lashed wildly, unable to find purchase against the radiance.
"Elira!"
The King launched himself skyward, shadows coiling around his body like wings. Godsent surged to intercept him, their blades flashing. He carved through them brutally, shadow and steel tearing apart radiant armor, but each kill slowed him—each heartbeat a distance too far.
The god's voice slid into Elira's mind, smooth and invasive.
"You feel it now," it said. "The weight of what you are."
The chains of light pulled tighter. Elira's breath hitched, ribs creaking under the pressure. She felt herself *unraveling*, memories flickering—faces she didn't know, wars she hadn't lived, screams echoing across centuries.
"No," she gasped. "I choose—"
The god laughed softly.
"Choice is a luxury of the unbound."
The alien guard fired upward, its damaged weapon screaming as it unleashed a continuous beam of condensed darkness. It struck the god's light, carving a smoking scar across its radiance—but the chains did not break.
The King reached her.
He slammed into the chains with all his strength, shadows roaring as he tore at them barehanded. Holy light burned his flesh, smoke rising from his gauntlets, but he did not stop.
"She is not yours," he snarled.
The bond flared violently.
Elira felt it then—not pulling her upward, not anchoring her downward—but *connecting*. She felt the King's rage, his resolve, his refusal to let go. The chain between them tightened, not as restraint, but as conduit.
Power surged both ways.
The shadows around Elira sharpened, growing dense, heavy, real. They wrapped around the chains of light, squeezing, crushing.
The god hissed—truly hissed.
"That should not be possible."
Elira screamed as she reached inward, past fear, past pain, and *pulled*.
The chains snapped.
Light shattered like glass.
Elira fell.
The King caught her midair, the impact driving them both into the forest floor with bone-rattling force. The ground cratered beneath them as shadows exploded outward, flattening trees and godsent alike.
They lay there for a heartbeat—breathing, alive.
Above them, the god reeled, its perfect form flickering, cracked.
Its curiosity was gone.
Replaced by something far more dangerous.
Anger.
The god screamed.
The sound was not loud—it was absolute. It tore through the forest like a blade through flesh, silencing every other noise as reality itself shuddered. Elira felt it inside her skull, a pressure that threatened to crush thought into dust.
The god's cracked form descended violently, light bleeding from fractures across its radiant body. The ground split open beneath its approach, trees disintegrating into ash before it even touched down.
"You dare," it thundered, voice shaking the bones of the world.
Godsent rallied instantly, surging forward in a desperate, fanatical charge.
The King rose with Elira still in his arms. He set her down gently—briefly—then turned, shadows exploding from him like a storm given form.
"No," he said coldly. "You dared first."
He moved.
The battlefield became chaos.
Shadows tore through the godsent ranks, slicing, impaling, crushing. The alien guard joined the slaughter, damaged but relentless, its remaining weapon firing in pulsing arcs that ripped holes through divine formations. Light clashed with darkness in violent bursts that shook the forest to its roots.
Elira forced herself upright, pain screaming through her body—but the bond held. Stronger now. Clearer.
She lifted her hands.
The shadows answered instantly, rising around her in disciplined formations, weaving into armor that locked over her skin, blades forming at her command. The weight of it was immense—but it did not crush her.
It *fit*.
Godsent broke through the chaos, rushing her in a coordinated strike.
Elira stepped forward.
The shadows moved with her intent—precise, lethal. Spears punched through radiant chests. Blades severed limbs. Light shattered and died around her as she advanced, eyes dark, expression calm in the heart of carnage.
The god struck.
A lance of pure divinity slammed toward her, tearing the air apart.
The King intercepted it, shadows wrapping around the attack as it burned through him inch by inch. He roared, armor cracking, blood spilling—but he held.
"Elira!" he shouted. "Now!"
She didn't hesitate.
She reached for the chain.
Not the bond between them—but the one the god had forged into the world.
Elira pulled.
Darkness surged upward like a tide, wrapping around the god's fractured form. The god howled as shadows crawled across its light, constricting, erasing symbols older than memory.
"This world will break without us!" it screamed.
Elira met its gaze, steady despite the chaos.
"Then it will break free."
The shadows crushed inward.
The god's form imploded in a violent burst of light and darkness, shockwaves flattening the forest in all directions. Godsent dissolved mid-motion, their light snuffed out like dying stars.
Silence followed.
Elira collapsed to her knees, breath ragged, the shadows receding at last.
The King staggered to her side, catching her before she could fall completely.
High above, the rift in the sky began to close—but not before something else stirred beyond it.
Something vast.
Something watching.
And this time, it was no longer curious.