Laseen stood, the back of one hand wiping the blood from her lips. “It’s done,” she said. “I’m sorry there wasn’t another way.”

  “Will it work?” Igwanda said from where she stood protectively over Drahn, her bow in hand. For once, the Wight’s attention wasn’t on her weapon, but instead on the human at her feet. Though, he wasn’t necessarily a human anymore.

  “Don’t know,” Laseen said. “Injury that bad, plus the time it took for us to find each other. He’s lucky he lasted this long.”

  “Not luck,” Igwanda said. “He’s a fighter.”

  Laseen looked up from the bloodied ex-Grower archer on the ground, blood pooled around him, to the woman ready to go to war on his behalf. “Helps he’s got something to fight for.”

  Igwanda released a booming arrow at the mouth of the carved-out tunnel they’d hidden in so Laseen could work on Drahn. The Endless that had peeked through decided to fall back, mainly because it was now short one head, and left the three of them alone again.

  “I need to get back out there,” Laseen said, her eyes going to the glitchy Raid Interface. Even standing next to Igwanda and Drahn, their entries in the system weren’t accurate or steady, and something in the vampire’s gut told her others needed her help.

  “I’m not leaving him,” Igwanda said.

  “Not asking you to, newt,” Laseen said, using an old nickname she knew irritated the Undead Squalian. By the way the other woman didn’t react, it told Laseen just how worried Igwanda was about Drahn. For good reason, really, with how badly he’d been hurt. She hadn’t been kidding when she said he was lucky to be alive.

  Without any limbs to reattach—the Raze had completely destroyed them—Laseen’s options became pretty limited. Add that into the blood loss, the overall trauma, and some kind of crystal infection that’d been spreading inside Drahn, and it was a bad time all around. He was one foot in the grave and taking off the other boot.

  That’d really only left Laseen with two choices. Let him die or help him die.

  Since she’d become a True-Blooded Vampire—thanks to Fenil’s meddling—she’d felt the ability to pass her condition on to others. To create more vampires. Given her own experience, it wasn’t something she was real keen on doing. It was a curse. Seeing the pain in Igwanda’s eyes when the other Undead realized she was about to lose Drahn, though?

  Maybe it didn’t have to be a curse.

  “I’m going,” Laseen said. “Keep him safe, and don’t let him… run off anywhere on his own.”

  Igwanda gave her a characteristically flat look.

  Laseen just cackled as she floated out of their little hidey-hole. It was definitely a hit to their raid group to have two of their damage dealers basically down for the count. There wasn’t going to be any convincing Igwanda to leave his side, though, so why bother? She had better things to do.

  When she got back to the surface, she found literal mountains of Endless bodies filling the streets between the buildings. Nearby, Devison fought like a man possessed, tearing his way through the crystal constructs. Ahead of him, three sets of images like what she left behind her when Laseen used her movement ability seemed to probe and test the construct’s defenses. If one set fell, Devison would just follow one of the others, sneaking him past their guard to land devastating kicks.

  Blood covered him from head to toe from injuries he’d taken over the course of the battle, though nothing looked fresh or serious. Laseen still tossed a couple needles at him, giving him an instant heal, a heal-over-time, and a decent buff that would power itself off the blood covering him. He nodded his thanks without saying a word, then threw himself headlong into another group of constructs charging in his direction.

  Given the loss of Yully, Laseen almost worried if he could be left on his own without running headlong into something suicidal. Luckily for her, somebody else clearly had the same concern. Finotol, fighting her own battles, wasn’t far from Devison.

  Every time the Grower changed battlegrounds, the True-Bonded Bonder wasn’t far behind, shadowing him without crowding him. Her claws tore through Endless as she moved, her contribution to the war nothing less than any of the others, but it was clear she wouldn’t let Devison fall to his own devices.

  Further beyond the pair, Blightfire Spites continued their own engagement with the crystal army, but things were slowing down. Where there had been tens of thousands of them before, the streets practically blanketed in them, Laseen could count individuals.

  The same was true for the Endless. The two forces had crashed against each other until hardly any remained.

  Still leaves the Raze to deal with.

  That wasn’t something she could directly do, but she knew a guy.

  Activating her movement skill, Laseen shot straight up, a trail of her images following behind, until she floated above even the tallest, still-standing building. There… weren’t actually a lot of those left. Visionary, the once-idyllic city—before two wars had reached it—now stood as little more than a flattened and pock-marked battlefield. The seemingly indestructible crystal that’d coated everything had not been able to stand up to S-Rank power getting unleashed. To call it all post-apocalyptic did a disservice to the particular apocalypses wandering around.

  Except, when Laseen looked around, she found most of those walking disasters all in one place. Or, at least headed there.

  While one Raze wrestled on the ground with Romin, and another looked like it squashed something in its hands—the motion making Laseen’s stomach twist in knots even though she didn’t know who or what it’d held—it was the two running toward the boy that worried her. Practically out of nowhere, Nivian in his Aspect came running, leaping through the air to tackle one of the two. The weight and power of Landbreaker’s form pulled the Raze to the ground, while his spinal whip—that kid knew about image—snaked out to tangle the legs of the final Raze.

  That brought it to the ground, but it was still too close to where Hiral worked.

  Not good, Laseen thought at the same time she sped in that direction. As always, being a healer meant she had to deal with being too late. She always got there—or got called in—after somebody had been hurt or damn-near-killed. It was her job to put people back together after that. She’d accepted it.

  Looking at Hiral standing in that pit, surrounded by rings of energy circling him, it was the first time in a long time she felt like too late would really be too late. Time and again, she’d seen him do some crazy—and overpowered—shit. This… this wasn’t going to be one of those times. He wasn’t even aware of the Raze pulling itself over the lip of the pit, or the cannons glowing on its shoulders.

  Faster, she urged herself, but she wasn’t going to make it. She couldn’t.

  Solar energy pooled at her fingers as needles formed, while her Fate powers went haywire. Something was about to happen. Something her powers couldn’t predict the ramifications of. To her eyes, everything went dark. It was coming. The true end.

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  The moment after which nothing existed. Not Laseen. Not the boy or their friends. Not even life.

  Through instinct—because she couldn’t see—Laseen hurled her healing needles in the direction of where she’d last seen Hiral, and the woman who had appeared beside him. Sera had arrived to try and save her son, but she wasn’t going to be enough.

  Even as Laseen began to fall from the sky, her movement ability cutting off like she was a puppet with her strings cut, her Fate powers told her of the blasts of energy speeding toward Hiral. Of how Sera wouldn’t be enough to protect the boy. And how badly things would go after that, leading to everything coming undone.

  She knew this all, but there wasn’t anything she could do to stop it. Fate was a double-edged sword. She could see it, but she couldn’t really change it. Sure, she could nudge it now and then, but to stand directly in its path and scream “You shall not pass!” wasn’t something she could do.

  That required somebody with the strength to defy fate.

  ***

  Loan looked down at Sera from where he stood in front of her, arms spread, as torrents of energy washed against his back. From the searing pain scorching him, he probably should’ve used a few more tattoos. If only he’d had the time.

  Instead, he’d just have to rely on the one thing he could always trust. That he could always count on. His body.

  Decades spent honing muscle and technique seemed meaningless before the unfiltered might of an S-Rank opponent, but that was what he had. It was also what he taught. Skills and abilities were wonderful things—as were tattoos—until somebody couldn’t access them anymore. When solar energy ran dry, when a greater ability blocked access, or when the situation just didn’t allow it, there was still one tool a person could always go back to.

  Themselves.

  It was one of the things that had caught his interest in Hiral. That scrawny little brat who’d wandered into his gym—albeit with a member of the council as his father—who couldn’t use his tattoos or even touch solar energy. There’d been a spark in his eyes. A will to prove himself, when the only thing he had was his body.

  Pain interrupted his reminiscing, the tattoos he’d activated failing, and his flesh underneath beginning to charcoal. To call it unpleasant would be an understatement, but Loan didn’t flinch. Instead, eyes locked with Sera’s, he fell back into memories of a better time.

  Of course, Hiral goal was to unlock his solar energy and the tattoos his parents had painstakingly inked across his body. Once he did, his advantages would be mountainous. At the time, though? He was barely a rough pebble in need of some serious shining. Others would’ve scoffed at the challenge—or the taint of being associated with the one who came to be called the Everfail—and Loan almost did too.

  A kid who couldn’t use his solar energy at all? On Fallen Reach. HAH.

  And yet, Loan could still remember the look in Hiral’s eyes to this day. He would go to the Ninth Hell and back again to achieve his goal. How could Loan say no to a child like that? He couldn’t. He didn’t.

  Nor again, year after year, when Hiral’s struggles only got harder. Every time he failed the Shaper test, the whispers would grow. Spread. His name got forgotten, only for his moniker to take its place. His mother—the woman standing in front of Loan now—abandoned her son, and most of Fallen Reach looked to distance themselves from Hiral.

  Through it all, only a few stood by him. Loan was proud—truly proud—to say he was one of them. So proud his chest felt like it would burst when he saw Hiral return to save Fallen Reach. To watch those asses who’d made his life so difficult over the years eat their damn words.

  Unfortunately, another feeling swelled within him, the flesh on his back side gone entirely now, the muscle beneath exposed to the terrible energy eroding everything it touched. The agony of it made him flinch, but he didn’t falter. This? This wasn’t enough to even make him take a step. His powerful legs braced beneath him; his hands—the fingers dissolving—held the blast back; his shoulders bore the weight only he could.

  He. Would. Not. Fall.

  His own Shaper’s-pride wouldn’t allow it, and the thought brought him back down memory lane.

  Despite Loan’s own unhealthy Shaper-pride as it was often called, he was overjoyed to see Hiral accomplish the rescue of Fallen Reach without becoming a Shaper himself. It was like the ultimate middle-finger to all the haters through his life. Like he stood in the center of the Amphitheatre of the Sun and shouted how much he didn’t need any of them.

  Then, Loan had met the friends Hiral had made along the way—the real treasure—and he saw his student genuinely happy. It had nearly brought tears to his eyes. While Elezad would straight fight him for the honor of calling Hiral son, that was the closest word Loan could use when he thought of the boy. Maybe nephew?

  Uncle Loan had a nice ring to it.

  Thinking on it, maybe even Great-Uncle Loan, with the way Hiral and Seena were going. Imagine that, him training the next generation of heroes. What kind of child would those two monsters have?

  Probably one who is reckless with fire…

  Loan’s chuckle at his own joke became a cough that sprayed blood across Sera’s unblinking face. Even his mighty muscles hadn’t been able to stand up to the energy the Raze had fired in his direction. That didn’t mean Loan would go down, though. No, no way in hell. Even without any skin or muscle on his back half, Loan still had his bones.

  And, he had one other thing. Something his student had taught him.

  Stubbornness.

  Loan’s eyes finally moved from Sera to the man standing behind her, spectral arms working to complete his task. The best student he’d ever had, and a man he’d grown to respect tremendously over the years.

  One Loan felt he’d let down, once, when the boy had disappeared on the surface. When they’d all thought he was dead, why hadn’t Loan gone looking? Because Hiral was the Everfail? Because nobody had ever survived the surface? Because Loan was… afraid to leave the only place he’d ever known?

  Even now, he didn’t have an answer to that question. He didn’t know why he didn’t go, and it ate at him. For all the strength, power, and pride of a Shaper, he hadn’t risen to the challenge.

  But, it wasn’t the shame that kept him standing while the energy tore away at the back of his skull, while it tried to bend his knees, or while it crept between his ribs and moved toward his internal organs. It wasn’t even his Shaper’s-pride.

  No, it was a promise. Not to anybody other than himself. As soon as he’d seen Hiral return, he swore he would be there next time—every time—his student needed him. Whether Hiral needed a teacher to instruct him, a sparring partner for his cheat-like double, a friend to talk to, or a shield to protect him. When it counted, Loan would be there.

  As it barbequed his flesh, incinerated his muscles, blackened his bones, consumed his hands, or boiled his inside.

  He.

  Would.

  Be.

  There.

  A crack sounded from behind Loan, coupled with a blindingly sharp pain that could only be his skull fracturing under the onslaught, and suddenly everything went blurry. Inside his chest, his lungs burned for oxygen—or maybe they just burned—while his heart thundered, then, terrifyingly, stuttered and slowed. Weakness like he’d never imagined coiled around him, his whole body—what was left of it—growing heavy.

  No, don’t give in, he told his body, eyes blinking slowly. Just a little longer. Hold. Hoooooold.

  The power washing against his back peaked, half-a-dozen stabs of pain running in a line along his battered spine. So intense and sudden were the bursts, Loan’s eyes opened wide in shock, and the remaining muscles on the front side of his body tensed and gave one last push against the final weight of the energy trying to destroy him.

  And then, just like that, it was gone, his ruined body starting to topple backward. Gone was any strength in his limbs, the lack of muscle and flesh playing the logical role in him being unable to stand upright. How he’d stayed standing wasn’t something he could explain.

  But it’ll make one helluva story when Sera tells it.

  Not that his eyes went to her as he fell. Looking past the woman, Loan sought one last glimpse of his prize student. The one he didn’t let down this time.

  Except Hiral… wasn’t there.

  Panic filled Loan’s mind. Had he failed after all? Had he…?

  “Got you,” Hiral said quietly, bands of gentle force wrapping around Loan. Instantly, the Shaper felt the familiar touch of Restoration slipping into his devasted body, joining the crimson needles he recognized at the same time the load of pain on his brain lessened. Laseen had hit him, somehow, and the spikes of pain up his spine were her healing. Just enough to keep him upright during the last, worst second of the blast.

  But, that didn’t matter if Hiral interrupted what he was doing to catch Loan.

  “You shouldn’t… have… stopped…” Loan wheezed out, his voice sounding – and tasting – like charcoal.

  “I didn’t stop,” Hiral said. “I finished.”

  The words—and the strength in them—brought a sense of relief washing over Loan.

  “Sera, Loan, thank you for coming,” Hiral said. “I couldn’t have done it without you. Sera, can you watch over Loan until Laseen gets here?”

  “What will you do?” Sera asked her son.

  Hiral looked up at the Raze staring over the lip of the pit down at them, thick tree-sized roots wrapping around its limbs and binding it in place. At least, temporarily.

  “I’m…” Hiral started, power exploding off him—though it didn’t touch Loan or Sera—to engulf his body in white, while black lightning sparked around him. At his back, the Edicts pulsed like they were going to war, and the Seeker’s Crown appeared on his head. In his right hand, that terrifying sword formed, its very presence weighing on the world and causing the whole city to quake.

  “I’m going to finish something else.”

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