The echoes of their unified voice hadn't even faded before the pressure in the Blood Cathedral intensified. Black, his spear still humming with Rage, took a pause and a measured step back. He watched the twins pass him, two distinct silhouettes of power, he felt a strange, rare sense of relief. These two are stronger now, the burden was no longer his alone to carry.
"They... they actually separated," Black noted, glancing back at the battered crew behind the boulder.
Jog-Jog blinked, wiping a smear of giant blood from his forehead. "Wait, there's two of them now? Does that mean we have to feed them double? Because our budget is currently at 'zero and a half'."
"Is it weird that I find Solon more intimidating now that he's more than just a voice in a head?" Maya whispered, clutching her side but managed a weak, dramatic pout. "And look at Kai's hair. It's still perfect. How is it still perfect after a mountain collapsed on us?"
Markasadjusted his cracked goggles, staring in awe. "It's a perfect biological and metaphysical partition. They aren't just split; they're as fresh as day!."
Lena just leaned her head back against the stone, a faint, tired smile on her lips. "I don't care if there's ten of them. As long as that thing dies, they can be a damn choir for all I care."
"Tell Lálú we are coming for his soul," Solon uttered. It wasn't a threat; it was affrimation.
Then, the storm broke.
Slash. Swish. Bang. The battle wasn't a contest; it was a rhythmic demolition. Solon moved with the crushing weight of a falling moon, his giant sword carving through the air with gravitational force that made the stone floor turn to dust. Kai, however, was a blur of silver-grey light. His original daggers had transformed—they were longer now, the blades shimmering with an ashen glow and a jagged, crystalline edge that pulsed like a heartbeat.
Lálú's vessel didn't just bleed; he unraveled. Every time the demon tried to regenerate, the Grey Energy cauterized the wound, erasing the cells before they could knit.
Bang! Solon's blade shattered the demon's guard. Swish! Kai's daggers traced a path of light across the demon's throat.
The walls of the cathedral groaned under the pressure. It was a punishment that transcended the physical.
Miles away, in the quiet, terrifying chill of Adam's Palace, the real Lálú collapsed to his knees. He clutched his chest, gasping as waves of phantom pain ripped through his true essence. He could feel the twins' blades through the connection to his vessel they weren't just killing a puppet; they were hunting the puppeteer.
"They're... they're tracing the thread!" Lálú hissed, his eyes wide with a fear he hadn't felt in centuries.
He looked at Adam, who sat motionless on the Tree Throne, watching with those ancient, knowing eyes. With a snarl of desperation, Lálú dug his hands straight into his chest, gripped his own heart and tore his spirit away from the mountain. The ethereal tether snapped with a sound like a dying star.
Back in the cave, the vessel froze. The glow in its eyes died, replaced by a hollow, frantic terror. It let out a loud, pathetic cry that halted the twins' blades for a single heartbeat.
"He left me..." the vessel wheezed, a bloody, jagged smile stretching across its face. "He left me to die in this forsaken place... with these troublesome HUMANS!!"
The vessel lunged one last time, a beast driven by the madness of abandonment. But the twins were faster.
Swish. Solon's giant sword swept through the air like a guillotine, sent with the momentum of a bullet. Simultaneously, Kai plunged his glowing daggers into the vessel's chest, the grey light exploding outward.
The head of the demon rolled across the floor, turning to fine, white ash before it even stopped moving. The body followed, dissolving into a harmless mist that smelled of old rain and ozone.
The King of Deceit was gone.
****************************************************************
A heavy, beautiful silence descended. The red glow of the cave faded, replaced by the soft, natural dimness of the mountain's guts.
Jog-Jog was the first to move, staggering over to Kai and throwing an arm around his neck. "My boy! My beautiful, seafood-delivering boy! Don't ever go back into that grumpy head again, you hear me? You're way better for morale when I can actually see you!"
Kai laughed, a sound of pure sunlight that seemed to heal the air itself. He hugged the crew, offering high-fives and quiet words of comfort as they rushed him. Arike, now conscious but weak, watched from the arms of the Nuns, a small, proud smile on her face.
The different factions, the ones who had entered as rivals now sat together on the rubble.
Boss wiped his blade, looking at Skye. "Not bad for a bunch of 'thieves'. I might actually have to stop calling you kids 'targets'."
Skye smirked, tightening her rope. "Just keep your hands off our loot, Boss. We earned this one."
Ashy threw his head back, letting out a wheezing, manic laugh that echoed up the hole. "Did you see that?! I'm telling you, I'm the main character! I can't die! I'm built differently!"
The Nuns didn't speak. They simply leaned into each other, eyes closed, smiling through the dirt and blood. They had survived the impossible.
Jog-Jog looked up at the towering, jagged hole they had fallen through. The opening was hundreds of feet above, a small circle of grey sky.
"So, I got to ask though," Jog-Jog said, scratching his head. "How the hell are we getting out of this giant hole? My jumping legs are officially retired for the day."
Suddenly, a booming voice echoed from the top of the abyss.
"Acolytes! Hang on! We're coming to save you!"
They all looked up to see the silhouette of Masaru Hano leaning over the edge, followed by the hum of Syndicate extraction ropes descending like threads from heaven.
The group looked at each other as a collection of broken, bloodied, and brilliant survivors and for the first time in a long time, they all started to laugh.