The battle wasn’t over. A wing cannon bloomed open, vomiting a beam that carved chasms into the vast station walls. The shockwave hurled Hazahnahkah backward even with his Second and Third Terrors; metal screamed, gravity tore sideways, and the entire battlefield became a rotating spiral of burning platforms and shattered corridors. The space station had twisted into a cathedral of fire and thunder—its sky a messy mural of all the lands which made up Serpent’s Ramble.

  Hwayoung then twisted around with a quick slash towards the flesh pod that December 11th had emerged from. She slashed through December. He gasped, unharmed, and Yurreth’s true body burst into a conflagration of spores, organisms, and disease. It swirled into the vortex above them like an organ trail of the vile and the histrionic. People’s terrified screams, grieving wails, and delighted laughter filled the air like a choir. Yurreth attacked Hwayoung at this. Hazahnahkah blocked her.

  “This is a betrayal,” Yurreth snarled. “Do you know how long that took to accumulate?”

  Hazahnahkah spoke calmly. They couldn’t afford to bicker right now. “We’re going to kill Zalahak. Is it him or me you want?”

  “Both.”

  The Woman Painted White plunged her hand into his stomach—September 6th’s stomach. Hazahnahkah lurched. He grabbed Yurreth, then tore out her throat. Her eyes rolled up with pleasure as she struck back. December 11th placed her in a chokehold. Then, a sword ran both of them through.

  It was Galfarys.

  “And at last my dreams from Vrast are finished!” the Swordpriest cried.

  Hazahnahkah froze. He had no idea what was happening. He couldn’t tell whether Galfarys was friend or foe anymore. Clearly, he had always been after Yurreth’s head, but at the cost of what? But it wasn’t an honest question. Hazahnahkah would do nothing regardless of the answer it had. If Galfarys hadn’t been here, Yurreth’s flesh might have overtaken September 6th’s body from Hazahnahkah. Galfarys had saved their lives.

  Yurreth tried to free herself. December 11th grit his teeth. He held the sword in place. His eyes glared into Galfarys’, and Galfarys glared right back.

  “Yurreth,” Galfarys grunted. “Serpent’s Ramble may be freed, but you will not go with them—at last I have your head.”

  Yurreth shuddered. A cruel smile crossed her face. She was overpowering the two men slowly .“It would have been wise to keep the mask on a bit longer, Galfarys—”

  Zalahak cut her off with a reverberating chuckle. His humored breaths were dry. “Yurreth, I know you’re enjoying this. I think I’ve finally decided what I trained my Ramble for all these years. Your own flesh now betrays you.”

  Yurreth shot the dragon a nasty grin. She breathed through her teeth.

  Zalahak’s dragon hand raised. Hazahnahkah could feel it, somewhere in the depths of memories he had been given from Vrast in The Methostone. The man was going to activate his Ramble. The power to sentence one thing—any thing—to death. It took no super sensory abilities to feel this. Every person must have felt it in their bones, but only one person suffered when Zalahak spoke.

  “Hangei,” he whispered.

  It sliced through the air like a soft dusk sound, right towards Yurreth. Her feet lifted to paces from the floor as a thin red line was drawn across her neck, and then—she was ragdolled back down. She did not get back up.

  Then, her body blossomed into a putrid, riddling garden of dead things across the dias. It crawled up Zalahak’s body like a black bubbling swamp. The smell congealed on the brain and stewed it like a cauldron of manure, vomit, and piss. Even Zalahak was wretched, his voice crackling as it choked. His engines shuddering, he tried to smash the woman’s carcass, and that only made things worse. What was left of her exploded into the air with a toxic gas. Hazahnahkah activated his Third Terror to purify it, to make it so this happened somewhere else, but that didn’t work. It was a cesspool so poor that even his Terrors couldn’t do anything about it.

  And then he realized why.

  People had been trapped there. They flew up and away, their spirit, hopes, and dreams, up into the swirling, rising, and falling skies of Serpent’s Ramble. What was left on Zalahak’s body erupted into an implosion of dead things. He howled in fury. The first drone drifted into it, dead. Its hull began to rot, the metal blushing red-brown, corroding in seconds. Another quickly met the same fate. The next was so busy trying to undo this with reality manipulation that a large temple managed to collide with it, knocking it into oblivion, into who knew where in Serpent’s Ramble. Whoever was controlling the Waker Station was definitely against Zalahak. That woman called Lethiahenne was helping them.

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  September’s memories surged again—fragments of laughter, the taste of citrus, a face in a crowd.

  Hazahnahkah clenched her jaw. “Not now,” he hissed through borrowed lips.

  Ysan vaulted past him, catching a rail that was no longer attached to anything. She swung at Zalahak’s central sphere and missed. The Harvester’s spheres were still intent on keeping him safe—but Yurreth’s flesh pod, it was corroding the man’s full metal body in an expanding shell of rust. Hwayoung was quick—way too quick. She popped up from the floor of the Waker Station, nudging September 6th quickly.

  “Lethiahenne told me everything. I’m technically not here right now. But I will be. Can you help me shut down Zalakah’s holomatrix?”

  This series of very dense insights stunned Hazahnahkah. He nodded subtly, rather unsure. “The spheres? Yes. I can if we can swim through the barrier he’s making.”

  “Sadly, I can’t swim through animated objects. The barrier is a part of Zalahak as much as your blade is part of yours.”

  “I can fold it from his main body with my Third Terror,” the sword said, though he didn’t know if it was true.

  The woman who had seized control of the Waker Station earlier grew loud. Her voice cracked through static over its many devices. “Then fold the damn planet if you have to!”

  Zalahak’s wings flared again. The dragon’s face opened with artillery as the man boomed in rage. The cannons glowed fiery hot. He felt reality drawing inward. This wasn’t normally artillery. This attack was coming from the central sphere—Zalahak’s main body. Hazahnahkah wasn’t going to be able to use his Terrors if this was the case. The spheres had proven time and time again that they could overpower his reality manipulation with their own. He felt September 6th’s heartbeat try to fuse with his—two rhythms becoming one. The descent became a scream of light.

  And somewhere inside that scream, Hazahnahkah realized he wasn’t just fighting to survive the coming fall. He was fighting to remain himself. September 6th was using her Ramble to offset his exhaustion to his friends, to the corpses, to what was left of Yurreth. She was trying with everything she had, and this was confusing him. But he had to do this. He had to fight. The only person who had a hope of parrying Zalahak’s reality manipulation was his own.

  September 6th’s hallucinations stirred the floor with worms. Hazahnahkah lifted his gaze. Pain clouded his vision. He met Zalahak’s ten spotlight eyes one last time. The man had no human ones anymore. Whoever his “old friend” was, if he had been speaking true, had nothing left to speak of. Everything apart of his face was a weapon.

  The world folded an inch at its edge, distance turning to skin. Hazahnahkah took a breath with everything he had. The wind drew it out from him, but their last gasps met, time and space bending a half second before impact. It all happened then—the greatest battles—they always happened in just under a second.

  At .76 seconds, Zalahak opens fire.

  At. .70 seconds, Hazahnahkah resurrects the flesh on Zalahak’s frame.

  At .54 seconds, Yurreth corrodes all of Zalahak’s physical body

  At .33 seconds, Zalahak’s two remaining spheres restrained Hazahnahkah’s Third Terror.

  At .21 seconds, December 11th blocks the last remaining sphere of Zalahak’s with an unknown Ramble.

  At .32 seconds, Ysan’s Serpent’s Spill water delays Zalahak’s beam of light by .24 seconds.

  At .19 seconds, Hazahnahkah activated his Painter's Palette to shift the target of Zalahak’s spheres away from his other Ramble.

  At .18 seconds, Hwayoung steadies September 6th’s body to keep her Hazahnahkah from falling.

  At .9 seconds, Hazahnahkah activates his Second Terror to parry Zalahak’s engulfing light with a space-time distortion.

  At .5 seconds, Zalahak’s attack meets Hazahnahkah’s.

  The space between everyone and the blast bends inward, warping into a spiral of impossible angles, and the beam folded against itself, scattering into a corona of molten air. Hazahnahkah’s Three Terrors pulse again. The air cracks; light reverses. He steps through time, leaving himself behind. September 6th gives him all the strength in her shoulder as he hurls himself through space, leaving his wielder behind.

  At .4 seconds, Zalahak’s attack overcomes Hazahnahkah’s Third Terror by the breath of a thread.

  At .3 seconds, Zalahak’s attack continues on its trajectory, but is parted by Hazahnahkah’s physical blade.

  At .2 seconds, Hazahnahkah’s blade meets Zalahak’s Incarnate body; the central sphere. Zalahak is killed on contact. His attack trajectory is changed by Hazahnahkah’s Third Terror.

  At .17 seconds, the battle is over, and Hazahnahkah is no more.

  An enemy of incredible power has been defeated. [September 6th] has changed her self-identity to [Cleathyne]. Ysan has learned [Waker’s Will].

  Waker’s Will: Unobservable.

  Hwayoung: Connected 200/100 → Connected 210/100

  Ysan: Lamented 100/100 → Allied 120/100

  Cleathyne: Neutral 0/100 → Linked 110/100 → [Cleathyne-Developed Linking Ramble] and [Hazahnahkah-Developed Linking Ramble].

  [Cleathyne-Developed Linking Ramble] → [Empath]

  Empath: Hazahnahkah can tap into a willing target’s electromagnetic waves and undergo an accurate simulation of their experiences. Relationships Hazahnahkah builds will now always mirror one another. [Empath] can be activated for a cost of 1,000 Energy per second to receive 100% of those with established trust with Hazahnahkah.

  [Cleathyne’s Abilities]

  [Hazahnahkah-Developed Linking Ramble] → [Interwebbed]

  Interwebbed: Cleathyne can now determine the current status of anyone she is [Interlinked] with. For every person actively [Interlinked] with Cleathyne, every [Interlinked] individual gains +1% to all Attributes.