She tilted her head, the golden mist in her eyes blazing brighter—then her jaw unhinged, snapping with a loud, wet crack that echoed off the stone walls. Her body bent backward with impossible fluidity, limbs twisting like a contorted marionette as she dropped into a crab-like stance. From every part of her—her mouth, her eyes, her ears, and the pores of her skin—mist began to pour in violent torrents, coiling like smoke serpents, expanding to fill the room. The armor on her body pulsated violently, a deep, resonant thrum like the beat of a monstrous heart, each pulse sending out waves of dark mist that crackled with arcane energy. Henry felt the pressure in the room intensify, his ears popping as the air grew heavier, like standing at the center of a storm.
“Go! Attack! Now!” he shouted, his voice barely carrying over the chaos. His summoned creatures surged forward, a mass of clawing, biting madness, throwing themselves at the twisting, crab-like monster with feral fury. The demon babies shrieked as they latched onto her limbs, tearing at her skin with their needle-like teeth, while the eyeless bats dive-bombed from above, their fanged mouths ripping into mist-tendrils as they screeched in a frenzied chorus. The mouth purses clambered up her legs, their teeth snapping viciously as they tried to tear the armor free, while the abominations slammed into her with brute force, grotesque muscles bulging, claws raking across her chest.
But the mist fought back. It lashed out like whips, flinging creatures across the room with explosive force, slamming them into the walls with wet, bone-snapping impacts. The Legion masses surged forward, their many mouths screaming in unison, but the mist coiled around them like vines, choking their movements. Henry saw his chance amidst the chaos. He rushed forward, dodging a flailing mist tendril as it whipped past his head, slicing through the air with a sharp crack. He ducked beneath a bat spiraling out of control, leapt over the writhing remains of a torn-apart abomination, and reached the monster. The armor pulsated again, but Henry didn’t hesitate.
He lunged, grabbing onto the bracer around her left arm. It burned beneath his touch, searing hot, but he gritted his teeth and pulled with all his strength. The monster let out a piercing scream, limbs flailing as it tried to shake him off. “COME ON!” he snarled, digging his boots into the ground as he yanked harder, the metal groaning beneath the strain. With a final, violent snap, the bracer ripped free, sending Henry staggering backward, the piece clutched in his hands. The mist around her shuddered, recoiling for a moment, and Henry knew he couldn’t stop now. He barely had time to brace himself before the armor pulsed again, sending a shockwave of mist surging toward him like a tidal wave of darkness.
At the last second, Elara flickered—her tiny form blinking in and out of existence, moving too fast for the eye to track. Then, with a sharp clap of her hands, a burst of brilliant, star-like energy exploded outward, colliding with the wave of mist before it could reach Henry. The force sent a ripple through the air, splitting the darkness apart, forcing the tide to stall and recoil like a wounded beast. Her wings buzzed erratically, her expression wild and unfocused as her magic crackled around her like a halo of unstable light. The sheer strain of the spell flickered across her face, but she paid it no mind, and neither did Henry.
There was only one piece left—the final leg plate. “Elara!” Henry shouted, staggering toward the monster, dodging another swipe of the mist. “I’m gonna do something crazy. You hit her with everything you’ve got. I just need her distracted long enough to grab it!”
Elara’s eyes gleamed—not with concern, not with hesitation, but with something far worse: excitement. “Oh, you want everything?” she giggled, cracking her knuckles as sparks of raw magic snapped between her fingertips. “Henry, darling, you are about to regret every life choice that led you to this moment.”
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Henry’s stomach tightened, a sinking feeling settling deep in his gut. That was not reassuring, but it was too late to back out.
With a flick of her wrist, Elara tore open a rift in the air, a swirling vortex of pure, chaotic energy that pulsed like a living wound in reality. The room shuddered, the very air warping as countless threads of magic unraveled from within her spell. Henry felt it before he saw it. The shift. The wrongness. The Wand screamed. "Oh NO, NO, NO—WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!"
Elara only cackled louder as the vortex spat out horrors. From its depths, things began to emerge—clawed shadows with too many eyes, mist-born aberrations that howled in a language Henry’s brain refused to process. The air filled with the sound of wings, clattering jaws, and chittering whispers that made his skin crawl. Elara had summoned something worse than monsters. She had summoned problems.
"DISTRACTION DELIVERED!" she howled, flinging a bolt of pure crackling energy straight into Sarah’s twisted form. The blast collided with the mist-cloaked creature, sending golden embers bursting outward like a firework. The impact slammed her backward, her crab-like posture twisting in pain, her mouth letting out an inhuman wail.
Henry moved. He surged forward, his boots skidding against the blood-slick stone, and lunged, grabbing onto the final leg plate. His fingers wrapped around the edge, his grip tightening like a vice as the metal burned beneath his touch. The armor fought back, pulsing violently, sending a shockwave rippling up Henry’s arms, threatening to tear the breath from his lungs.
"Come on—" he snarled through gritted teeth, his vision swimming, muscles screaming in protest. Behind him, the chaos roared. Elara’s madness was tearing through reality, the rift spitting out horrors, the summoned beasts fighting both Sarah and whatever the hell Elara had just unleashed. The world blurred, the magic intensifying, the air crackling with raw power. Henry had one chance. With a final, desperate yank, he ripped the leg plate free.
The instant it left Sarah’s body, the armor screamed. A deep, echoing wail tore through the air—not a cry of pain, but the sound of something ancient being severed. The mist reeled back, the tendrils that had once pulsed with power shriveling, as if the energy that bound them had been ripped apart at the roots. Henry stumbled back, his lungs burning as he gasped for breath. The final piece clattered to the ground with a hollow clang.
For a heartbeat, the room held its breath, and then his sister-mother began to break. Her body convulsed, jerking violently as cracks of pure light split through her skin, webbing across her arms, her torso, her face. Whatever spell had fused her to their mother’s will was coming apart at the seams. The mist inside her erupted. It wasn’t a slow exhale, nor a simple dissipation—it was an explosion. A kaleidoscopic detonation of shifting colors and writhing energy, mist bursting from her form like a dam shattered beyond repair.
Henry threw himself backward, shielding his eyes as the wave of raw, unnatural power surged outward. The walls cracked, the ground shuddered, and the air itself rippled, warping as if reality was trying to stitch itself back together. His ears rang, his chest tightened, and for a terrifying moment, he thought the entire room was going to collapse into nothingness. But then, as quickly as it had come, the mist began to settle. Silence fell. The body crumpled.
Henry’s heart slammed against his ribs as he scrambled forward, his hands shaking as he shoved away what little mist remained in the air. Sarah. He dropped to his knees beside her. Her small form lay motionless on the ground, her face still, her chest silent. The golden glow in her eyes was gone. She wasn’t breathing.
His throat locked up, vision blurring as a horrible, horrible certainty clenched his heart. He pressed a hand to her shoulder, his fingers trembling as he gave her the gentlest shake. “Sarah?” No response. His hands moved on their own, pressing against her face, brushing back her hair, trying to find anything—anything at all—that said she was still there. She was cold.
