Kane's Aspect flared to life. He saw the world not as matter and light, but as the raw pulse of souls and minds. He looked at the Skeletal Knight, and to his shock, there was nothing. A hollow, desolate void. Not even a flicker of consciousness. A single thought cut through his confusion: 'Seriously, what the fuck is it?'
The Knight didn't wait. Its trident lunged, a silent green blur of light. Kane met it with a parry, but the impact was wrong. There was no satisfying clank, no resistance. His sword found nothing solid, only a baffling, weightless void. It was like trying to stop a ghost with a wall, disorienting and frustrating. He shoved the knight, and it slid back a meter, gliding with an unnatural speed that defied its armored form
The combat re-engaged. Kane feigned a strike to the torso, and as the Knight shifted to block, he leaped, aiming for the core of its chest. His sword didn't slice the air. It met a strange, viscous resistance, the feeling of "slicing oily water." The blade passed through with a slick, sickening slowness, a disorienting, frictionless glide that gave no proprioceptive feedback. He tried to pull his sword back, but it was held fast, stuck not by force, but by a strange, unyielding metaphysical friction . The knight pivoted its trident to strike upwards, and Kane, with a grimace, unsummoned his sword, kicked at the trident's shaft, and re-materialized the blade in his hand as he put distance between them.
He landed hard, looking up to see the trident's glowing tip narrowly miss his face. The parrying began again. The knight was fast, its movements a blur of silent speed. Kane was a warrior. He was built for the "heavy work" of combat, for the honest physical struggle of strength against strength. But against this foe, his training was useless . The lack of feedback on his hands, the utter absence of a soul to read, filled him with a cold displeasure. He thought, 'The only way to win this is to break the shell.' But a more fundamental question hit him: 'How do you break something you can't touch?'
Then, an idea, sharp as a dagger, flashed in his mind. He didn't just step back; he began a full retreat, not of fear, but of strategic withdrawal . He made distance. The knight followed, but Kane kept moving, his pace designed to be just fast enough to frustrate its silent, relentless pursuit. The knight's movements began to grow erratic. The flickering light in its helm pulsed faster, more violently. It wasn't angry, not truly. It was a machine that had been denied its prime directive. The knight was simply enraged.
As Kane dodged another wild thrust, the light in the helm pulsed a single, final time, almost a visual echo of a malicious smile. The knight lunged, a desperate, final charge. Kane had bet on it. He smiled and murmured, "Gotcha." He stepped completely sideways. The trident, now propelled by pure, mindless fury, speared forward with a physical, destructive force that shattered the unsettling quiet of the fight. The sound was a jarring, profound CRACK as the trident's point buried itself deep into a nearby stone pillar, the sickly green light now trapped, pulsing impotently.
Kane didn't hesitate. He rose, sword in hand, and with a grunt of "heavy work" and pure physical force, he plunged his blade into the barnacled armor. The steel bit and tore, the sound of scraping, rusting metal a brutal counterpoint to the earlier hollow chime. He ripped the armor apart with a surge of physical power, and the vortex of oily water and blackness spilled out, dissipating into nothingness in a silent, final gesture of defeat .
Kane, barely rested from the nightmare spell, tried to give a voice to his surprise but nothing came out. He went near the remains of the armor to see if he had missed something, but to his surprise, they were simply an empty shell of armor. No cores, nothing. Kane was suddenly confused. 'What type of nightmare creature doesn't have cores?' A shiver ran down his spine. He turned and saw a pale, slim woman with dark clothes and long hair. Her face was an unsettling mask, with her mouth stitched shut with crude wire. She looked semi-transparent, and when Kane activated his Aspect, he saw her soul and mind, vibrating at a speed he had never witnessed in any living creature .
He now understood. She was the one in the Knight's armor, the puppeteer. The woman opened her stitched mouth, and a misty sword came straight out, her hands taking it and wielding it. Kane took a stance, waiting for the interception, but she vanished . A sudden, sharp shrill of pain attacked him from his back, a wound he could barely register as she vanished again, repeating the process. Kane was initially overwhelmed, but as he adapted, he was able to block her attacks. After some time, he was even able to attack the mind and soul core he now saw with his Aspect .
She vanished again, and Kane searched for her. Suddenly, his hands moved involuntarily. He tried to resist, but he couldn't. His legs moved forward on their own . A horrifying realization dawned on him. *'Don't tell me, this is how she controlled the armor.'*.` He tried to resist, but his body moved according to her will, his hands going to his own chest to tear apart his armor . Having understood what was going to happen, Kane tried to unsummon his armor, but he couldn't. Then, he ripped his own armor off . A voice from the Spell echoed:
[You have destroyed...]
Kane summoned his sword and, in an act of terrible desperation, tried to stab himself in the abdomen. He used all his willpower to slow his hand down, but could not think of a possible solution. He suddenly thought, 'While I was Evading, why didn't she come out of the armor to attack me?' Kane took a very risky gamble. He let the sword pierce his stomach . He grunted in pain, and pushed the blade upwards, towards his heart . He shouted in agony as he felt his very flesh being torn . Kane stumbled and fell, using his last bit of consciousness to land on the barnacle armor's remains.
The woman was suddenly expelled from his body, falling to the floor. Kane, bleeding from the wound, looked up at her and spoke, his voice ragged, "That Knight armor was your cage. That metal somehow constrained you." Kane immediately unsummoned the sword still piercing his body, and using his last remaining consciousness, pulled the glowing trident out of the pillar with a surge of renewed will. With a final heave, he threw the weapon at the woman with all his remaining force .
The woman, disoriented from the expulsion, was hit by the trident. The glowing prongs cut her head off, and her body fell to the floor while her head was pinned to a nearby pillar, the trident's points piercing through her eyes.
Kane then fell unconscious, bleeding from his wounds. He heard a door opening sound and the voice of the nightmare spell echo once more:
[You have Killed...]
[You have recieved an Echo... ]