Henry’s lungs burned, his arms ached from the relentless grip he had on the Wand, but he had no time to rest. Every step sent him barreling forward, the Wand’s magic propelling him through the twisting, convulsing tunnels. His boots slammed against the pulsing flesh beneath him, the surface squirming in response, like some great beast reacting to its prey’s desperate struggle.

  Elara, unbothered as always, perched atop his head, comfortably nestled like some deranged field commander riding into battle. She held Edward aloft, the battered spoon gleaming under the sickly glow of bioluminescent veins running along the walls. Despite the hellish landscape, she still managed to sound annoyingly chipper.

  “CHAAARGE!” she bellowed, thrusting Edward forward like a knight’s lance, kicking her feet against Henry’s scalp as though she were spurring a warhorse.

  “Elara—” Henry started, dodging left as a gnashing maw shot past him.

  “Less complaining, more running! You’re my noble steed now!”

  Henry gritted his teeth but didn’t have time to argue. Tim wasn’t letting them go.

  From the walls, the floating maws shrieked, peeling away from the living structure like dislodged parasites. The creatures moved in terrifying synchronization, circling the air with unnatural speed before diving in with snapping spiral jaws, their fangs clicking together like saw blades revving to life. They weren’t just attacking—they were coordinating.

  The first lunged low, aiming for Henry’s legs. He barely vaulted over it before another came from the right, spiraling toward his ribs. A pulse of magic from the Wand pushed him sideways, shoving him just out of range before a third launched itself from above, its teeth bared, saliva-like mist dripping from its grotesque maw.

  Henry twisted mid-stride, his instincts screaming as he barely avoided getting ripped apart. He had no doubt that if even one of them landed a bite, he’d be torn open in an instant.

  The next one attacked faster, its pulsating form jerking erratically as it launched itself straight at his chest. Henry had no time to dodge.

  On instinct, he flung the Wand forward.

  The moment the weapon met the creature’s mist-like body, it reacted, tendrils of blue-white energy snaking outward like lightning striking water. The Wand ripped the mist from the beast’s core, siphoning it away with an audible hiss, as though it were drinking the very essence that kept it alive.

  The creature shuddered violently, its bioluminescent teeth dimming. A moment later, it collapsed inward, its physical form unraveling into nothingness.

  Henry barely had time to process what happened before another lunged—but this time, when the Wand reacted, Henry felt it. The surge of power rushed into him, a pulse of energy that made the air around him hum with raw potential.

  And then, the realization hit. He could use this. Every time these things came for him, he could absorb them—and then turn their own numbers against them. The thought ignited something in him, and Henry stopped running. Instead, he attacked.

  He twisted on his heel, sweeping the Wand in a broad arc. The weapon responded instantly, releasing a wave of searing blue tendrils that lashed outward, catching two of the floating maws mid-flight. The moment the mist-like energy was torn from them, Henry redirected it, twisting the stolen power into his own creation.

  Where there had been two attacking creatures, now two new figures rose, mist-bound beings that glowed with unnatural light. Their jagged, indistinct forms hovered at Henry’s side, their floating masses shifting like spectral echoes of the beasts that had just tried to kill him.

  What started as desperation became momentum. For every floating gnashing maw that surged toward him, two more appeared at his side—his creatures, his summons, bound by the Wand’s will. The once impossible fight had shifted, the creatures outnumbering Henry now being replaced with creatures controlled by Henry. But Tim wasn’t done.

  The walls trembled, a deep, gurgling wail reverberating through the chamber. The mist swirled violently, thickening into choking tendrils that snaked across the floor. The entire space lurched, twisting into a pulsing cavern of flesh and gnashing teeth, its movements erratic and frenzied, like a living body being pushed past its limits.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  Henry staggered, his summoned creatures jerking in response as though caught in the same unseen wave of pressure that pressed against his chest. A cold realization curled in his gut, its weight sinking deep. Tim was done playing.

  The onslaught of maws hadn’t slowed, and though he had gained an army, his energy was draining at an alarming rate. His limbs felt leaden, his mind stretched thin, and the Wand—though capable of consuming mist—had limits.

  He couldn’t keep this up forever. Then, for the first time since the chaos started, a brief lull settled over the battlefield. The space between attacks stretched just enough for Henry to take a risk. He didn’t hesitate.

  Lifting the Wand, he locked onto the thickest mass of writhing creatures, his gaze narrowing on the point where Tim’s essence pulsed strongest—the heart of whatever this thing had become. If there was a way to end it, this had to be it.

  Without waiting for approval, Henry thrust the Wand into the kaleidoscopic flesh, jamming it as deep as he could, his fingers tightening until his knuckles turned white. He willed the mist—Tim’s very essence—into the Wand, commanding it to siphon every last drop.

  It didn’t work.

  At first, nothing happened, and dread clenched his chest. The flesh shuddered but didn’t dissolve. The mass of maws shrieked, the sound vibrating deep in Henry’s bones, and for a horrible second, he thought everything had failed.

  The Wand twitched violently in his grip.

  "Ohhhh, I hate this. I HATE this, Henry! This is a TERRIBLE idea!" The Wand’s voice crackled, its usual snark replaced with pure, unfiltered panic. "You’re trying to force-feed me an entire SENTIENT NIGHTMARE! This is like trying to swallow a WHOLE ELEPHANT while it’s KICKING YOU IN THE THROAT!"

  “Just hold on! It’s working!” Henry gritted his teeth, pushing all his willpower into the Wand.

  "WORKING?! Oh no, no, no, HENRY, I DON’T THINK YOU UNDERSTAND THE CONCEPT OF 'TOO MUCH'!" The Wand's voice hitched, wobbling between terror and outrage. "I AM A DELICATE ARTEFACT! I WAS NOT MEANT TO DRINK THE OCEAN—THIS IS AN OCEAN, HENRY! YOU ARE SHOVING A LITERAL OCEAN INTO ME AND I AM CHOKING!"

  Henry didn’t stop.

  The writhing mass of maws convulsed as its structure began to buckle, its body collapsing inward, folding like something imploding on itself. Its spiraling teeth snapped wildly in every direction as it let out an unearthly wail, a deep, resonating sound that sent vibrations rattling through Henry’s bones.

  Then, finally, the dam burst.

  Tim’s entire mass dissolved into a thick, molten-orange mist, its form unraveling as the Wand devoured every last fragment of its essence.

  Henry staggered back, his breath coming in sharp, ragged gasps as the sheer force of the energy poured into the Wand. It was too much, too fast—power spilling out, coiling around him in rivulets of raw magic, wrapping his limbs like living tendrils of lightning.

  The Wand screamed.

  "STOP! STOP! HENRY, I’M FULL! I CAN’T HOLD IT ALL—IT’S LEAKING—OH, THIS IS HOW I DIE A SECOND TIME, I JUST KNOW IT!"

  Henry braced himself, fingers digging into the Wand’s handle, every muscle tensed to keep control. The energy around him flared, distorting the air, sending bursts of light flashing outward in chaotic, spiraling patterns. The mist clawed for escape, trying to wrench itself free, but Henry held fast.

  And then, in one final heaving motion, he ripped the Wand free.

  The effect was instantaneous.

  The writhing mass collapsed, the last remnants of Tim’s form slamming to the ground in a wet, lifeless heap. The walls shuddered violently, and then—silence.

  For the first time since the fight began, nothing moved.

  Henry stood panting, his vision swimming with afterimages of the chaotic light show still flickering in the air. His body felt like it had been wrung dry, but he was still standing. That had to count for something.

  The Wand let out a low, miserable groan.

  "I hate you."

  Henry let out a wheezy chuckle, still catching his breath. “You’re fine.”

  "I AM NOT FINE, HENRY! I AM A BLOATED, OVERFED MONSTROSITY NOW! I HAVE INGESTED AN ENTIRE ABOMINATION, AND I THINK IT’S SITTING IN MY STOMACH LIKE A STONE. I AM GOING TO HAVE NIGHTMARES ABOUT THIS. DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW LONG IT TAKES FOR A WAND TO DIGEST THIS MUCH NIGHTMARE FUEL?!"

  Henry shook his head, swiping sweat from his forehead. “You don’t even have a stomach.”

  "WELL, I DO NOW!"

  Elara, who had somehow remained uncharacteristically quiet throughout the ordeal, finally let out a slow whistle.

  Henry stepped back, inhaling sharply, and took off running. His boots splashed through thick, viscous fluid, the fleshy ground quivering beneath his steps as though the beast itself was aware of his escape attempt.

  His summoned creatures waited above, their floating, gnashing forms twisting in midair like hungry stars, glowing with that eerie, mist-soaked light. Henry barely had time to second-guess himself before he launched forward, hurling himself toward the first floating maw.