"Hy… Robin, answer me!" Henry roared.
Robin stepped into view—pale, motionless, his eyes gleaming with something unhinged.
"You know, Zihard, you're a hypocrite." Robin's words rang through the darkness, sharp as steel. "From the time I first knew you, you claimed you sought salvation. But you… you're nothing but greedy."
"What…?" Henry muttered, stepping closer. His right hand hung forward, empty, while his left hovered near his belt, searching for his sig.
"Ah, ah—don't." Robin pressed his blade against James. A thin stream of blood trickled down where the point dug in.
"What are you doing?" James cried, thrashing, but Robin's grip clamped tighter.
"Don't move—unless you'd like your head torn from your body."
Cold sweat broke across James's back, and he froze.
"Another step, and he dies," Robin hissed, his hold unrelenting.
Henry's eyes widened. His hand hovered near his hilt but didn't move. "What is it you want, then?"
The chamber fell into silence. The creatures had vanished. Not even an echo remained. Only Robin's ragged breathing filled the void, his expression warped with madness.
"You know what I want, Zihard. Everything that was stolen from me… everything you took."
James looked up and recoiled at Robin's bloodshot eyes.
"What… ha—" Henry began, but Robin cut him off.
"Martha. You killed her, Zihard."
James felt his head spin, the world tilting with every word.
The professor… killed someone?
He whispered, his throat dry:
"Who is Martha?"
Robin's laugh cracked through the silence. "Yes, indeed, Zihard—tell him! Tell the boy how you murdered Martha—my sister, the only soul who ever loved you!" He shook James violently, his eyes blazing with grief and rage.
"Ahh—" James whimpered, Robin's grip tightening, the blade biting deeper into his skin.
"No… that's a lie. He wouldn't," James said, voice breaking but firm, as if defiance alone could shield the truth.
His gaze snapped to the professor. Henry stood motionless, head bowed, unable—unwilling—to meet James's eyes.
"No, you wouldn't…" James muttered again, though the words cracked like dry wood.
Robin's roar shattered the stillness: "Oh look… Look at him! The Great Pretender!"
"Professor… no…" James's eyes dulled, the light fading from them. At that moment, the creature that had been chasing them finally reached the shores of Swain.
It lumbered forward, straight toward Henry.
"Look out!" James screamed, his warning sharp, but Henry did not move.
"Get out of there!" James cried again, desperation breaking his voice. Still, there was no response.
"Please… you promised. How can you keep your promise if you die?" James's cry finally cracked through Henry's silence.
Slowly, Henry drew his Sig and leveled it at the advancing horror.
One after another, he unleashed a storm of seals. Fire roared, but the beast swallowed it whole. Spears of metal tore from the earth, only to melt against its form. Nothing took hold. Nothing stopped it.
The closer the creature came, the fouler the air grew. Trees shriveled where its shadow fell, withering into lifeless husks.
The creature finally loomed face-to-face with Henry, its slimy mass coiling, ready to devour him whole.
"NO—wait! I am not done yet!" Robin's voice cracked through the night, sharp and commanding. At once, the abomination halted, quivering.
Its bloated form swayed unnaturally, like some cursed jelly resisting collapse.
Then, slowly, it began to reshape.
Limbs stretched, bones bent, flesh twisted until it stood in a grotesque parody of humanity. Pale hair spilled over its shoulders, and its gaze—an abyss without end—fixed itself on Henry.
"What have you done…?" Henry whispered, his voice trembling as his fury rose. "You… you are working with them. Haven't you seen the destruction they've wrought—the countless lives they've taken?" His face contorted, veins bulging across his temple with rage.
"And the lives they will give." Robin's reply was cold, each word slicing the air.
Henry froze, confusion scattering across his expression. "What?"
"Watch." Robin turned toward the creature, eyes glinting with something that was not entirely human.
Robin stomped the ground twice, and the beach sand surged upward, curling around James like living chains, pinning him in place."You wait here," Robin said, turning toward the creature.
He pressed his palm against its slimy skin. A grotesque bond formed instantly—the flesh rippling, twisting, merging with Robin's hand.
The creature shuddered, bumps rising across its form as waves pulsed from it into Robin. Bubbles of pale light broke free from its body, seeping into Robin's palm and flooding through his veins.
Bulges swelled beneath his skin, popping up along his arms, neck, chest."Ahhhh!" Robin screamed as more luminous lumps forced their way into him.
"They… they are people's souls!" James gasped, his voice trembling. "Those are people—what difference is there between you and devils?" His roar shook against the sand that held him.
"I told you," Robin spat through the pain, his voice breaking into a wail. "The weak… have no right to speak!"
His body warped beyond recognition.
Skin tore and folded.
Bones cracked.
The Robin that was, was gone.
All that remained was a writhing, pulsating mass of flesh, lurching unnaturally across the sand.
Robin twisted and turned, his wails tearing through the night.
"Is this the solution?" Henry shouted over the screams.
"Ha! Robin turning into a monster? Your sister wou—"
"Shut it!" Robin's voice erupted, muffled beneath the blotching flesh consuming him. "Don't say another word of her! You have no right, Zihard!"
His rage rang sharp and raw. Then came silence—broken only by the ocean's steady rhythm against the shore.
Fizz.
The sound slithered into the air, unnatural against the sea's cadence.
Pop!
The stillness shattered. From the writhing mass, the flesh split from the top like a grotesque flower blooming in the absence of light. A figure tore free—tall, pale, with long dark hair falling in heavy strands, muscles taut as if carved from stone.
Eyes like starless voids opened, darker than ink, swallowing all light.
The air stank with a stinging, acrid bite, yet there was an obscure beauty to it all.
"Hahahaha… hahaha!" The laughter was jagged, maddened, echoing across the waves.
"Look at me—restored. Reborn. Zihard, see the life they have given me, the very same life I will return to Martha." His voice curled with frigid certainty.
"Now… tell me. Where are the keys?"
From the shadows beneath a nearby ship's sails, a cold voice answered, low and measured; the sea seemed to hush again:
"Oh my… At last, a true Chimera. Well done, Robin."