The slight one begged.
His voice was frantic, fractured, pathetic.
“Someone help me.This demon is going to kill me.”
His plea hung in the air.
Unanswered.
Because no one would save him.
Not the gods.
Not fate.
And certainly not me.
I could not move.
But it was not fear that rooted me in place.
It was something else.
Something unnamed.
Something that pulsed beneath my skin, warming me from the inside out as I watched Amir advance.
There was no hesitation in his steps.
Only certainty.
The certainty of death’s embrace.
Like a harvester reaping his yield, Amir took their lives.
Their silvery, fragile essences unfurled from their flesh, drawn forth by his touch?—
And he drank them in.
Their souls coiled into him, binding with his own.
And as the last wisp of life faded from the air, Amir stood transformed.
No longer weakened.
No longer starved.
But reborn.
Silence filled the dungeon.
The only sound was our breath—his, steady and whole.Mine were uneven, shaken by what we had done.
And as the weight of it all pressed against my chest, I realized?—
We had crossed the threshold.
There was no turning back.
