The Reliquary,
Inside the Reliquary, silence pressed down like a weight.
Ron and Lia stood tense, their auras still flaring in defense—blue fire rippling around Ron, pink winds curling sharp around Lia.
But the enemy before them wasn't striking.
Arin stood rooted in place, locked in his partial thunder mode, hair spiked, lightning crawling faintly across his body. His chest rose and fell with shallow, uneven breaths. Yet his eyes—once burning with rage—were now blank, glassy, staring through them as if he wasn't truly seeing.
His lips moved, cracked words leaking out like broken glass.
"…failed…"
"…yet… again…"
"…again… again…"
Each word quivered, carried on the faint hiss of his lightning. His fists, still bloodied from earlier, shook at his sides.
Ron narrowed his eyes, the heat of his flames steadying. This isn't the same person I know . Something's wrong…
