We don't get a break.
The Lieutenant comes out of the rubble already moving, Void pulled tight and compact instead of flaring. It learned. It isn't wasting power anymore. Every step is shorter. Every strike is cleaner. That's how I know we're running out of time.
Violet meets it head-on before it can accelerate, blades reinforced and moving in tight arcs meant to cut tendons and joints instead of armor. The Lieutenant absorbs the first impact and counters immediately, driving a Void-coated elbow into her ribs hard enough to lift her off her feet. She crashes into broken stone, rolls, and comes up coughing blood.
I don't give it the chance to follow.
I force energy into alignment and slam interference into its center mass, not to damage, just to disrupt its timing. The Void stutters for half a second. Violet uses it, re-engaging low and fast, forcing the Lieutenant to pivot instead of advance.
We're not fighting anymore.
We're stalling.
The Lieutenant adjusts again, this time splitting its attention perfectly. It keeps Violet busy with heavy, punishing strikes while threading attacks toward me whenever I commit too much energy forward. I take a hit to the shoulder that numbs my arm instantly. Reinforcement keeps it from shattering, but pain still spikes hot and sharp.
My reserves dip again.
Not dangerously.
Yet.
Violet takes another hit, this one catching her mid-movement and slamming her into a half-standing wall. The structure collapses around her. She doesn't come out right away.
The Lieutenant turns toward me.
I brace, force my energy into compression, and meet it head-on. Void and applied force collide and explode outward, throwing both of us back. I skid across the street and barely keep my footing. The Lieutenant recovers faster.
It always does.
Violet bursts out of the rubble behind it, moving on instinct alone, slamming into its back and driving blades in wherever she can find purchase. The Lieutenant roars and throws her off violently, sending her tumbling across the ground until she comes to rest near Matte.
She doesn't get up this time.
I feel the shift immediately.
The Lieutenant does too.
It advances, slow and deliberate now, no longer bothering with feints or tests. It knows the equation. Two injured opponents. One unconscious target. No more need for caution.
I plant myself between it and Matte.
My arms shake as I force more energy into place. My breathing burns. My vision narrows at the edges. I don't care. I apply pressure anyway, hammering disruption into its approach, forcing it to take the long path, forcing it to work for every step.
It breaks through.
A Void-laced strike slams into my side and lifts me off the ground. I hit hard and roll, barely managing to stop myself before smashing into debris. Pain explodes through my ribs. Something cracks. I gasp and struggle back to my knees.
The Lieutenant looms over me.
I can't stop it now.
It steps past me like I'm already irrelevant.
Violet tries to move. She fails.
The Lieutenant raises its arm.
Void compresses.
This is it.
The pressure spikes so suddenly it steals the air from my lungs, a violent surge that rolls across the battlefield and forces the Lieutenant to stagger mid-strike. The ground detonates between it and Matte, Essence erupting upward in a blinding blast that tears a crater into the street and throws the Dracus backward.
I stare, stunned.
Matte is standing.
Barely.
He's on his feet, hunched, one arm hanging useless at his side, blood running freely down his torso and dripping from his chin. His breathing is rough and uneven, but his eyes are clear. Focused. Essence coils around him in tight, controlled currents instead of wild surges, responding to intent instead of instinct.
He doesn't look feral.
He looks furious.
The Lieutenant recovers quickly, planting its feet and raising its guard as it reassesses. This time, there's no hesitation. No curiosity.
Only calculation.
Matte straightens a fraction, wincing as the movement sends pain through his body, and lifts his good arm. Energy gathers there, dense and compressed, not expanding, not flaring, just building until the air itself distorts around it.
"I'm still here," he says, voice hoarse but steady.
He fires.
The blast slams into the Lieutenant and drives it backward across the battlefield, carving a trench through stone and debris before it finally digs in and stops, armor scorched, footing broken.
Matte staggers immediately afterward, nearly collapsing as the Essence around him flickers, but he stays upright, planting his feet with visible effort.
I force myself to stand beside him, pain screaming in protest.
Violet drags herself upright on the other side, blades shaking in her hands.
We're destroyed.
Bleeding.
Barely standing.
But for the first time since this started, the Lieutenant doesn't advance immediately.
And for the first time since the seal opened…
Matte is fully conscious.
And in control.