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*************

Wyatt Graves

An hour has passed agonizingly slowly since I fell into this massacre. Jabberwok is still, frustratingly, alive since more and more bodies have thrown themselves in between him and me. But it's not over yet.

Every part of my body is aching, saturated with both Ether and soreness. Blodwyn can heal any injury, but some remnants remain after enough regeneration. Stepping backward instead of permanently advancing forward, I spread my arms out to the sides.

Blodwyn joins my efforts as Excavator activates at once alongside another skill. Thin white mist flows from my body to enter the air, and for the first time, I can finally see what Burdenless, which is stored inside my bones for Blodwyn, exactly is.

It's a shedding of my soul. The outermost layer of my soul splits itself off from my bones, taking with it Ether and physical exhaustion. A long, relieved breath of air joins the mist as I tighten my gaze on the whiteness, an idea coming to mind.

If it's made of my soul... then... this is the perfect opportunity for something. Bestowing Strand is so painful because I use a brutal method to do so. Anwiye's is far more elegant and is only slightly uncomfortable. Me? I don't have that elegance.

I prefer the... coarse method. After all, it's the only one I've ever known. To do it delicately would take far too much time.

Reaching a hand forward as the horde rushes to kill me, two Dominions hidden within the expansive Darklight before me, I clench my soul. The mist inches from my body, floating away, pauses utterly.

A smile reigns as I bring my hand down, contorting the mass quantity of Ether within the mist from both Blodwyn and me, leveraging the soul it is accompanied by. Then, I bring it back to me, holding it tightly in my hand.

Solid Ether. I think I get it now. The soul and Ether have to combine at such a high density that a physical manifestation is made, allowing anyone, no matter their Sigil, to finally conjure something.

Most elements one creates relate to one's paths, personalities, or experiences. Knowing such, I bring my hand down toward the ground, remembering a very particular memory.

A long time ago, or at least for me, as it feels like a century has passed, Earl told me about the Goliaths, old, ancient creatures that grew to be the size of the most prominent buildings ever made. I only ever got to see their bones, still standing after who knows how many millenia.

Something resonated back then. Looking out to see the vast dunes of fallen creatures was mesmerizing. And... my soul... it is forever going to be connected to that place, not just for that resonation, but because of what happened there.

Shuddering, recalling all that I lost, both of myself and of my friends, my hand sinks into the earth below. Both auras of Burdenless convene in the palm of my hand, entering the dirt.

A lethal sensation emerges from my core as I contort my Ether, letting my soul guide it beneath the ground. The rumbling footsteps and crashing waves of Ether only grow closer. Blodwyn deflects many with Bloodlet while he helps me control the Ether.

For most, Dzils, and skills themselves, are incredibly hard to create, requiring years of practice and experimentation or particular scenarios. Simply adding a higher form of Ether manipulation doesn't guarantee a skill to grow stronger or even work at all.

For one such as me, though... I have a partner just as talented as I, perhaps more so. Two minds are always better than one, preventing any blatant failure.

The trembling of the Underworld only surmounts as the Ether in my shed soul reaches a peak, spreading out along a vast section of earth. This... is likely the most skilled use of Ether I have ever done.

With that as a final thought, I look up to find a Power diving for me, the magenta chains rippling over their flesh all over. Squinting to the point I can hardly see, I release the hold on my Ether while simultaneously loosening the chains on the split soul. With trembling hands, I will the bone to rise, to twist, to entangle, to kill.

A primitive but lethal spear doused in Darklight and corrosive fluid sinks for my right eye, hoping that I am exhausted from the continuous battles.

The Angelic creature never reaches me.

Bone erupts from the ground in a cacophony of splintering earth, ensnaring the demon with a rising cage of white. I watch in awe as the creature is lifted into the air, impaled upon the ribcages that now serve as deadly spikes. For a moment, there is only the sound of the demon's agonized cries, the bone forest casting long shadows upon the battlefield. Then, I hear more and more as I don't release the hold of my Ether.

The ground groans beneath the weight of my will as the forest of bone erupts from the earth, a grotesque orchard of bone. The demons, once so assured in their advance, are now ensnared within the bony grasp.

Anything below the Angelic realm is swiftly brought to the air and slain in only seconds. Many Powers are also caught as I inhale deeply, feeling the tremendous strain of this act of Ether and watching the Power before me drag its final breath. Every shifting moment, more and more Ether is brought out of my body into the soul beneath the rocks. It siphoning so much from me that it physically hurts.

Adrenaline courses through my veins as I witness the bone forest take shape. Oddly, however, the bones are all shaped like of the largest Goliath's ribcage, similar to a hand grasping with sixteen fingers from the abyss.

Hundreds of Motherbound die every instant, a magnitude beyond anything I've managed before, but not all is good. Two figures dart toward me despite the Bone Orchard, their Dominions able to protect them from the clasping ribs.

Jabberwok is accompanied by his partner, Azban. Gritting my teeth, I shift to move my body, quickly realizing that if I stand, this skill will end. And... I can't do that. It's helping Aniwye and Abraham too much.

So, instead, I stay crouched with a hand on the ground while Azban nears. His Dominion immediately takes effect, siphoning moisture from the air and my flesh. Contorting Bone Orchard, I toss a dozen and a half spears of bone at Azban while simultaneously weakening his Dominion with mine. Distance is critical with this one, but... Jabberwok is fast... and my soul is strained to its limit.

Unable to weaken Jabberwok's ghastly maws, I barely evade the demon's grasp, its teeth scraping against the air where my neck had been just moments before. Sliding away with the aid of Blodwyn, releasing blood beneath us and Shiver saving our asses, I stare at the two Demigods with a hand still on the floor.

My breath comes in ragged gasps as I retreat further, feeling something on the horizon. Shiver is warning me of an approaching figure. It can't be good.

We need to retreat further. Shifting my eyes to find Lennon crowded by his own horde with the other two managing the remnants, I shout at them as loudly as I can.

"We need to retreat!"

None of them hear me, though. Everything is too loud. And the two Demigods are already back upon me. Retreating further, I keep Bone Orchard active and weakening one of the demons at a time with my own Dominion.

Bit by bit, I near Aniwye while scores of dead follow me. Wounds quickly add up from Jabberwok and Azban. My skin is flaking and dry, and every bit of movement is agonizing and trembling from lack of moisture. Blodwyn is helping, but blood simply is not the same as water.

With all the things to focus on, our regeneration is affected far slower than usual, but I won't stop screaming at Aniwye no matter how much blood falls onto the ground. Eventually, she hears my call and broadcasts the message with her mind.

"Retreat, Lennon! Abraham! Something big is coming! We can't fight here!"

The swordsman swiftly cuts through the legions of Motherbound, rushing directly toward us by slashing at his own soul for speed, a unique but astonishingly effective way to move. Lennon arrives in only a few seconds while I'm entangled with my two pursuers.

With a grand curve of the swordsman's formless blade, Azban loses a hand, deciding to immediately fall back with his partner now that they are no longer outnumbering us. Lennon steps beside me, just as badly hurt as I am, though he won't heal.

What's more impressive is that he's only this hurt. I've been constantly regenerating, and Lennon has open cuts, lacerations, and even a portion of his brow sliced off, but he's still able to walk without the aid of his Dominion.

"What did you see?"

The Bladeless Monster is serious, intrigued, and enthusiastic all at once, no matter the fact his hair is dyed a dark crimson. I know the reason, for mine is all the same. Coughing out a bit of my lung, I gaze into the distance, finally releasing the hold I have on Bone Orchard.

I've quickly come to love the new skill far more than Soulbone, but it is not so easy to make, at least for now. I can only do it with a full Burdenless, a hand on the ground to flow Ether with, and Blodwyn's help. However, maybe that's just going to be the case from now on. Why not take his help? With it, we can do so much more. Why not push for additional strength?

My eyes squint as Insight falls over them, letting me see into the vast distance as I see a grand figure tower over the hills, striding toward us. The demons below rush toward the creature, leaving us with a few moments of brisk peace.

But I am not calm nor relaxed in the slightest.

Cloaked in impenetrable fur, the creature's form is a wreath of life and growth. Leaves, hair, and wood intertwine to form a dense covering that seems to pulse with the very essence of the forest... with the same concept of one. With each step they take, the earth trembles beneath their feet as if bowing in reverence to their immense power.

Their eyes, deep pools of wisdom and ancient knowledge, seem to hold the secrets of the forest itself. Only... that must have been the past. Now, they are crazed, erratic things that hunger for only one thing. The spread of Darklight. Intelligence remains within them, but it is twisted, leagues away from what it once was. And as they draw closer, I can feel the presence of all the creatures that dwell within their domain, from the smallest insects to the mightiest beasts.

Yet... there are only demons and humans here, likely weakening the creature and possibly causing golden ichor to drip from a few open wounds into its flesh. Looking deeply at the golden blood, I finally get a glimpse at its chains.

They are... beautiful.

Tears run down my eyes as I am stumped by the pure majesty of the iridescent chains, possessing every color that has ever existed. It is a... rainbow of beauty. Nevertheless... that magnificence has been tampered with, corroded by a horrifying substance.

Darklight drips from Maxemista's every strand of fur while the God of Forests approaches us. Shifting my head, I stare directly at Aniwye and Abraham. There is no room for negotiation.

"Go. Now. Run for the Gate Of Death and reach the surface. Maxemista slipped by Louis and Leviathan."

Abraham opens his mouth to argue, but my mother wraps her hand around his lips, closing them immediately. She nods at me deeply before speaking to Lennon.

"You take care of my boy, alright, swordsman? If you don't, I'll come for you."

Her words don't reveal the slightest bit of weakness, even against someone who has surpassed her. Sheepishly, I wave at her to go, and she does so, not foolishly waiting for a response.

Instead, she thumps Abraham on the head as she carries him away.

"Send all your Ether into one Idol of Marshall. Another shattered sky might slow Maxemista a little. I'll carry you after."

Abraham can only agree as his newly redeveloped skill allows him to conjure past actions of people. At first, I thought it was a direct copy like his Nightmares, but no. They are better, even if worse in some way. Very temporary but aweingly mighty.

If he can truly create a copy of Marshall's last strike... that'd be incredible. On her way out, forming bubbles of psychic Ether to fly away, she whispers to me with her mind.

"Little one. Do not die. Please. I would be lonely if you did."

My fists tighten at her words. Lonely, huh? How far you've come so quickly, mother. You're not even all that obsessed with my father anymore. Maybe meeting him again was enough to see the truth. He's just as flawed as the rest of us.

Breathing in, I meet Lennon's expectant gaze.

"I'm using that debt you owe me. Fight this God with me to help everyone escape to the surface. I know you like to fight alone, but..."

I don't get to finish as Lennon sheathes his formless blade into a scabbard that has been empty for months. The noise is loud despite the sword not being natural, but the man doesn't care.

"I'm okay with that. I'd rather fight it alone... but... I don't think I'll win that fight. That thing... heh... It's pretty big, huh? Might be the biggest monster I've ever had the pleasure of slaying."

I nod with Lennon as we admire God gradually coming to us. It's larger than any other creature I've ever fought. The only thing that could look down on it is those Goregiants within the Wastes above. Its pace appears slow, but each step traverses thousands of feet, making it far faster than it seems.

"Yeah. Do you genuinely think we can win together? I was just going to have Abraham pull us out with Daymare."

My words seem to offend Lennon as he steps slightly toward me, wrapping a phantasmal arm around my shoulder. Then, with his other arm that isn't real, he points out toward the God.

"I don't know much about Gods, but I don't think that would work. Dominions interfere with stuff like that enough. Whatever a God has? Their Divinhood? Concepts? No way. We either win or we die. Though... they might still want to convert us. The Darklight from a God should be quite different from the others. I bet that'll be their last attempt, though."

Biting my lip, I can only agree with him. He's probably right. This... this is not going to be easy. How quickly have I gone from killing Demigods to attempting to slay a God?

A wave of... death passes through the Underworld as both Lennon and I stumble back, but we catch each other. Without even discussing it, we know.

Death has fallen. Maybe even a bit ago. The aftereffects probably aren't instant with how decayed she was. Grins fall on our faces as confidence emerges. Lennon loves to do the impossible, as do I.

If something has already been done before?

Then we can do it. I know we can.

"You ready, buddy? If we kill this thing, you're gonna become a God."

Blodwyn vibrates with excitement as a Blood Nexus swirls within our chest. With Lennon's hand still on my shoulder, I heal his wounds with Sacrifice just as a blur passes by us. Locking my eyes onto the figure, I see that it is a see-through Idol.

Marshall.

I can only smile through the misery of my Martyr's skill as a fist lands upon Maxemista's stomach. But... while terrible winds emerge and the sky of the Underworld cracks and shudders from the speed of the human...

The God does not slow or stop. Still, a ripple of blood dribbles out of his chest before Marshall's Idol is swatted to the side like a bug. The Idol crashes into the earth, dragging a path along the Underworld to create a trench hundreds of feet deep before vanishing into non-existence. My whole being shrinks at seeing the man, even if it's not truly him, be killed so... effortlessly.

Abraham hurt the God, sure. Just... not in the way we were expecting.