The shard-world had stopped feeling like ground at all. Every fragment trembled, tilting and grinding against one another like tectonic plates about to collapse. Ren and the girl stood back to back, vow-thread blazing, their breath ragged but in rhythm.
The knight was the first to change. Its faceless helm split down the middle with a shriek of tearing steel. From within, not a face, but a nest of chains spilled out like veins, wrapping around its arms, binding the blade tighter. Its eyes—two hollow lights—ignited crimson.
The serpent followed. Its body cracked open like pottery, revealing a writhing core of luminous chains instead of flesh. Each coil now dripped fragments like molten shards, burning the air with every lash.
The winged beast screamed last, its wings tearing themselves apart—only to reform as feathered chains, each plume a sharpened link that clattered as it spread them wide.
