Hero Of Broken History

Thane's POV

The Covenant Seal floated before them, finally free of its protections. Twenty feet away. So close Thane could feel its power pulling at his shadow.

Behind them, the fusion-thing finished tearing through the doorway, its bulk filling the entrance. All three heads spoke in hungry unison: "Found you! Time to become more! Time to become us!"

Grab it! Whisper urged. While we still can!

Thane moved to lunge for the Seal, but the floor beneath them began to crack. Not from the fusion-thing's weight — from below. Something in Level Ten had been stirring since they'd entered, and now it was done waiting.

"Back!" Avian shouted, but there was nowhere to go.

The fusion-thing lurched forward, reaching with too many arms. Thane prepared to dodge, but suddenly lightning crackled through the air. A wolf — no, a spirit wolf made of pure electricity — materialized between them and the creature, fangs bared.

"Lux, hold!" Avian commanded, and Thane realized his brother had a spirit companion. When did that happen?

The spirit wolf snarled at the fusion-thing, electricity arcing between her teeth, forcing it to hesitate. But the floor's cracking grew worse.

Then it exploded.

Stone and metal fountained upward in a perfect circle. Through the hole came a figure that made Thane's blood freeze. Twelve feet tall. Four arms. Skin that shifted between human flesh and demon scales in perfect harmony. Not chaotic like the fusion above, but deliberate. Designed. Perfected.

The figure rose to its full height and surveyed the chamber with eyes that held too much intelligence. When it spoke, the voice was clear, human, wrong:

"Containment breach detected. Unauthorized presence in Seal chamber confirmed." A pause. "This is Sergeant Marcus Craine, Serial Number 4-4-7-9, Perfected Division. I volunteer. I succeed. I protect."

He's been down there the whole time, Thane realized with growing horror. Waiting.

His eyes tracked the hole Craine had created. It went down far — through multiple levels into darkness. And falling through that void, getting smaller with distance, was a familiar glow.

"The Seal!" Thane shouted. "It's falling!"

The Covenant Seal, knocked loose by the eruption, tumbled through the massive hole. Its light flickered like a falling star disappearing into the depths.

Level Ten, Thane thought desperately. Has to be. That's the deepest level. It'll stop there.

Lux flickered back to Avian's side, her electric form wavering from the effort of manifesting. The fusion-thing, no longer held at bay, let out a sound between hunger and fear as it focused on Craine.

"Perfect one! Join us! Make us whole!"

Craine's gaze shifted to the doorway. "Specimens 23-B through 25-B. Failed fusion attempts. Disappointing." His tone held no emotion. "You lack discipline. Purpose. You are corruption without meaning."

"We have meaning! We seek unity! We—"

Craine moved. One moment standing still, the next his upper right fist connected with the fusion-thing's center mass. The creature flew backward through the doorway it had just destroyed, all three heads screaming in shocked pain.

"Unity without purpose creates weakness," Craine noted, turning back to Thane and Avian. "You two. Humans carrying demon blade and shadow spirit. Classification: Possible threats. State your purpose."

"We're here for the trial," Avian said carefully, Fargrim held low but ready. "House Veritas. The Seal—"

"The Seal has relocated to primary containment. Level Ten. More secure." Craine's four arms flexed in sequence. "You will not reach it."

"Malethar is abandoned," Thane tried. "Your orders are five hundred years old. Your officers—"

"Orders stand until countermanded by ranking officer. No ranking officer has arrived. Therefore, orders stand." His stance shifted subtly, weight distributing across legs built for war. "Termination of intruders: Authorized."

No countdown. No warning. Craine simply attacked.

Avian's POV

Shit, he's fast!

Craine didn't telegraph. Just moved from stillness to violence like flipping a switch. His upper right fist passed through where Avian's head had been, air pressure alone making his ears pop.

Avian rolled left, Fargrim rising to block the follow-up from arm number two. The impact sent lightning through his arms, nearly tearing the demon blade from his grip. Where corrupted flesh usually parted before Fargrim's edge, Craine's skin barely noticed.

"Demon weapon confirmed," Craine noted, lower arms already moving. "Adjusting tactics. Overwhelming force authorized."

The beating that followed was systematic. Four arms meant no safe angles. While Avian desperately parried strikes from above, Craine's lower limbs swept for his legs, grabbed for his throat, struck at his kidneys.

A knee caught Avian in the ribs with a crack that meant something broke. He hit the chamber wall hard enough to see double, tasting copper.

"Gravity manipulation detected," Craine observed as Avian tried to make him heavier. "Compensating. Efficiency at ninety-six percent."

This is what they wanted to create. The perfect fusion of human will and demonic power. And it's going to beat us to death.

Lux burst from her ring form again, lightning crackling as she lunged at Craine's back. Her fangs found his shoulder, electricity coursing through his perfect form. Craine grunted — the first sound of pain — but adapted quickly. Two arms grabbed the spirit wolf while two continued attacking Avian.

"Spirit companion noted," he said, throwing Lux into a pillar. She hit hard, form flickering as she struggled to maintain coherence. "Adjusting tactics."

Shadows erupted from multiple angles as Thane joined the fight. They wrapped around Craine's limbs, trying to bind. The sergeant paused for exactly one second, analyzing. Then he flexed all four arms at once, shadows tearing like wet paper.

"Shadow manipulation confirmed. Threat level: Minimal." He backhanded toward Thane without looking, catching the older Veritas as he tried to flank. "Combined threat assessment: Manageable."

Thane hit the ground hard, blood streaming from his nose. But as he struggled up, Avian saw him mouth something. A plan?

The fusion-thing chose that moment to rejoin the fight, flowing back through the doorway with desperate hunger. "Together! All together! Strength in unity!"

It lunged at Craine from behind. The sergeant spun, grabbing two of its arms, ready to throw it again—

"Now!" Thane shouted.

But the fusion-thing, driven by hunger rather than strategy, did something unexpected. Instead of resisting, it went completely limp, its massive bulk becoming dead weight. Craine, expecting resistance, overbalanced for just a moment.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Thane's shadows struck not at Craine but at the floor beneath him, weakening stone already damaged by his entrance. Avian understood. Gravity reversed beneath Craine's feet just as the fusion-thing's weight pulled down.

The perfect soldier stumbled, one foot punching through weakened floor.

"Structural damage," Craine noted with mild annoyance, yanking his foot free. "Compensating—"

But the fusion-thing, still clinging with mindless determination, pulled toward the hole. "Down! All down! Fall together!"

Craine could have resisted, but Avian hit him with another gravity well, Thane's shadows pushed, and even perfect balance had limits.

All four combatants tumbled into the hole.

Thane's POV

Falling through darkness while being grabbed by both a perfect super-soldier and an insane fusion of corpses was a new experience for Thane. Not a pleasant one.

They plummeted through Level Eight — a flash of ancient machinery. Level Nine — glimpses of things in tanks that should never have been born. And finally, Level Ten.

They hit water. Ice-cold, black water that shouldn't exist this deep. The impact separated them, Thane kicking desperately for the surface. He broke through gasping, but his mana-drained body could barely tread water. He grabbed onto a piece of floating debris, clinging desperately.

Emergency lighting flickered to life along the walls, revealing the truth. Level Ten was massive — a sunken cathedral to lost ambition. Ancient machinery rusted into skeletal frames. Lights stuttered like dying stars reflected in the black water that stretched beyond their reach. And there, floating serenely in the center, was the Covenant Seal.

"Avian?" His voice came out weak, chattering from cold.

A splash to his left, then wet coughing. "Here. Fuck. Think my ribs are broken." Avian was clinging to his own debris, one arm hanging useless.

"Where's—"

Craine erupted from the water like a titan, landing on a partially submerged platform. Water streamed from his perfect form as he surveyed them with inexhaustible patience.

"Acceptable outcome," he said. "You have entered primary containment. Security measures: Active."

The fusion-thing surfaced next, all three heads spitting water. "Wet! Cold! But together!" It started swimming toward Craine. "Join now? Unite in the deep?"

"Denied." Craine kicked it in the center face, sending it splashing backward. "Focus on primary threats."

Great. We're the primary threats. Injured, freezing, barely floating.

Perhaps, Whisper suggested weakly, it's time for desperate measures.

Spirit Release? I can barely stay conscious.

Craine dove into the water, moving like a shark. Four arms made swimming an art form. He reached Avian first, who could only watch him approach.

"Lux!" Avian's voice carried desperation. "One more time!"

The spirit wolf materialized again, weaker than before but still crackling with determination. She intercepted Craine underwater, electricity dispersing through the liquid. The sergeant roared, surfacing and grabbing Lux with two arms. This time when he threw her, she dissipated back into ring form before impact.

"Spirit companion exhausted," Craine noted, skin smoking but healing. "Threat neutralized."

He dove again, and Thane knew they were out of options.

"Whisper," he said aloud, teeth chattering. "Spirit Release. Now."

Are you certain? You have almost no mana left—

"DO IT!"

Thane's shadow exploded outward. Not spreading across surfaces but rising, taking form, becoming real. Whisper emerged into the physical world — a writhing mass of living darkness twenty feet tall, with too many eyes and mouths that opened on nothing.

FREE! Whisper's voice shook the chamber. Finally FREE!

The shadow spirit lunged at Craine with tentacles of pure darkness. They met in the water with an impact that created waves, perfect soldier against unleashed shadow. Craine's fists tore through shadow-stuff, but Whisper simply reformed, laughing.

You cannot punch shadow, perfect fool! You cannot break what has no bones!

But Thane could already feel the drain. His vision greyed at the edges. He had seconds at most.

"Avian! The Seal!"

They pushed off their debris, swimming with the desperation of the dying. The fusion-thing, caught in the crossfire between Craine and Whisper, was screaming incoherently as it was battered by both.

They reached the Seal at the same moment, both grabbing it—

And Craine broke free. Four arms proved superior to formless shadow when he truly applied himself. He erupted from the water between them and the Seal, eyes blazing with purpose.

"Unacceptable," he stated, and brought all four fists down on the water's surface.

The shockwave sent them flying. Thane's consciousness flickered as his mana completely drained, Whisper shrieking as it was forcibly pulled back into his shadow. Darkness claimed him.

"—ane! Thane!"

He came to with Avian shaking him. They were on a larger piece of debris, both looking like death warmed over.

"How long?" Thane croaked.

"Maybe two minutes. Thought you were gone." Avian's good arm kept them both on the debris. "We're not done," Avian said, coughing blood into the water.

Thane looked around blearily. The fusion-thing floated nearby, trying to regenerate but failing — its corrupted flesh twitching but unable to reform without mana. And Craine...

Craine stood on the central platform where the Seal hovered, patient as death. Waiting.

"He's just... standing there?"

"Waiting for us to try again." Avian coughed, specks of blood hitting the water. "He could kill us easily. But that's not his mission. His mission is to prevent us from taking the Seal. So he waits."

"We're out of tricks."

"Yeah." Avian's gaze went to the fusion-thing. "Unless..."

Understanding dawned. "It's not dead. Just drained."

"Like us." Avian pushed off their debris with his good arm, swimming with agonizing slowness toward the creature. "Come on."

They reached the fusion-thing, which was still trying futilely to pull itself together. One head focused on them with surprising clarity.

"Pain," it whispered. "Can't merge. Can't fix. Let us rest."

Even this thing fights to the end, Thane thought, remembering his mother's words about heroes never giving up. Even corrupted, even broken, it keeps trying. What's my excuse?

"Help us," Thane said. "One more time. Distract him."

"Can't. Too broken. Too—"

"You wanted to join," Avian interrupted. "To be part of something. This is your chance. Hold him. Just hold him."

The fusion-thing's heads looked at each other. Then at Craine. Then back at them.

"Hold the perfect one? We... we could try. For unity. For purpose."

It began to move, slow and pained.

Avian's POV

This is insane. We're all going to die down here.

But it was their only shot. The fusion-thing approached Craine with desperate determination, dragging itself onto the platform. Craine watched its approach with no concern.

"Specimen continues to malfunction," he noted. "Termination recommended."

"We volunteer!" the fusion-thing cried with all three voices. "We succeed! We protect!"

It threw itself at Craine not as an attack but as an embrace. All its remaining mass, all its corrupted flesh, wrapping around him like a desperate child. Not trying to merge — just holding with everything it had left.

"Release me," Craine ordered calmly. "This serves no tactical purpose."

"We serve purpose!" it screamed. "We delay! We matter!"

Craine's four arms worked methodically to peel it away, but the fusion-thing poured everything into this grip. Not strength — it had none left. Just weight and desperation.

"Structural integrity of specimen failing," Craine noted. "Estimated time to complete dissolution: forty-five seconds."

Forty-five seconds. Avian and Thane exchanged looks, then pushed off their debris. Every stroke was agony, but they swam.

"Thirty seconds," Craine announced, still prying at the creature. "Your allies approach. Tactical assessment: They will fail."

They reached the platform, hauling themselves up on trembling arms. The Seal floated just out of reach.

"Fifteen seconds."

The fusion-thing was coming apart, its grip failing. "We tried," it whispered. "We mattered?"

"You mattered," Thane said, and meant it.

Strength isn't just power, he realized, watching this broken creature sacrifice itself. It's choosing to act when you have nothing left. Mother tried to tell me that. I just wasn't listening.

They lunged for the Seal together—

Craine tore free, the fusion-thing falling away in pieces. His calculation was perfect — four arms to stop two opponents, leaving no opening. Upper right to block Avian. Upper left to block Thane. Lower arms to counter their follow-up.

Except—

"NOW!" Avian poured everything into Lux's ring. Not calling her out — pulling her mana into himself. "Sorry, girl. I need everything you've got."

The spirit wolf's essence flooded through him, electricity and loyalty and the memory of lightning.

One gravity burst. Not sustained. Not controlled. Just raw power launching them both upward as Craine's blocks hit empty air.

They grabbed the Seal together in mid-air. Craine's hands closed on their ankles a microsecond later.

"Mission parameters maintained," he stated, beginning to pull them down. "Seal remains unclaimed if bearers cannot depart with it. Logical conclusion: Permanent prevention through bearer termination."

He was right. They had the Seal but couldn't leave with it. Not with him holding them. Not with his strength.

The fusion-thing stirred weakly on the platform. Not regenerating — dying. But it had enough strength for one last act. It grabbed a piece of sharp debris and, with the last of its fading energy, drove it into the stone between Craine's feet.

"For... purpose..."

The platform cracked. Not much — Craine's weight was perfectly distributed. But the crack spidered outward, finding old weaknesses. Five hundred years of water damage. Five hundred years of waiting.

Craine felt it. Made the logical choice. Released them to maintain his position.

But Avian had already reversed gravity for himself and Thane. They shot upward as the platform gave way, Craine falling with the stone into the dark water below.

"Unacceptable outcome," his voice echoed as he sank. "Mission... incomplete..."

They burst through Level Nine as sections collapsed, through Eight as walls became suggestions, through Seven as everything came crashing down. Avian's vision tunneled, Lux's mana burning out, gravity failing—

They hit hard, rolling onto solid ground as the earth swallowed the laboratory behind them, dust rising like a funeral pyre.

"The fusion-thing," Thane whispered.

"Gone." Avian closed his eyes. "It mattered in the end."

And so did you, Thane thought, looking at his brother who'd burned through his spirit's mana to save them both. Maybe that's what I've been missing. It's not about being strongest alone. It's about...

But the thought slipped away, too large for his exhausted mind to hold.

They lay there, broken but breathing, the Seal still clutched between them. In Avian's ring, Lux slept deep, exhausted from giving everything. In Thane's shadow, Whisper huddled weak and small.

But they'd won.

Sort of.