The heart of the labyrinth pulsed like a living wound—a colossal cavern veined with crimson light, walls dripping with viscous black ooze that formed grotesque shapes before dissolving back into shadow. At the center loomed a jagged throne of bone and twisted metal, etched with ancient goblin runes of greed and conquest. Seated upon it was the Necromancer: a towering figure in tattered robes fused to pallid flesh, face a mask of shifting eyes and mouths. Around him swirled a horde of undead—zombies with glowing runes branded into their rotting skin, shambling in eerie unison.
But worse were the entities manifesting from rifts in the air: horned devils with wings of smoke and fire, their forms flickering between corporeal and ethereal. They cackled in tongues that scraped at the mind, their eyes burning with malevolent glee. These were no mere ancient horrors—they were shayatin, devils drawn from the unseen realms, summoned and bound by a goblin cabal's folly centuries ago.
The Necromancer rose, his voice a chorus of snarls and whispers. "Intruders. You dare breach our sanctum? The devils serve us now—the goblin horde. We forged this alliance in blood. The undead are our army, the devils our enforcers. Together, we will remake the world in our image—cunning, ruthless, eternal."
Malcolm gripped Shadowfang tighter, his team fanning out behind him. The air thrummed with corruption, but the Qur'an in his chest rig felt warm against his heart, a reminder of the light they carried. "Your alliance is built on lies and greed. The devils use you as much as you use them. This ends here."
The Necromancer laughed, a sound like cracking bones. "Greed? We earned our dominion. And you… you cling to empty words. Devils, feast on their souls!"
The cavern erupted into chaos.
A swarm of zombies lurched forward, their movements enhanced by devilish energy—faster, stronger, claws dripping with infernal venom. Gronk roared and charged, his hammer smashing through the front line in a spray of ichor and bone. "For the light!" he bellowed, his swings crushing three at a time, but more poured in from the shadows.
Kira's arms ignited, lightning arcing out in purified bolts that chained between undead, frying circuits and flesh alike. "They're linked—take out the devils controlling them!" she shouted, dodging a claw swipe and countering with an EMP burst that dropped a cluster.
Elara loosed arrows in rapid succession, each tipped with blessed silver that pierced devil hides and exploded in bursts of golden light. One devil screeched as an arrow lodged in its chest, dissolving into smoke. But another swooped down, talons raking her shoulder. She rolled away, reciting under her breath, the wound sealing slightly from the Ministration's lingering effect.
Malcolm Shadow Stepped through the fray, blade flashing. Shadowfang drank deep from a zombie's core, tendrils spreading to drain its life force. He emerged behind a devil, slashing upward. "Bismillah!" The creature howled as Noor of Protection flared along the edge, burning through its wing. It crashed to the ground, writhing.
But the Necromancer wasn't idle. He raised his arms, channeling a wave of dark energy that summoned more rifts. Devils poured forth—some hulking brutes with fiery whips, others sly imps that whispered temptations mid-battle. "Join us," one hissed in Malcolm's ear. "Power without limit. Hoard the world's treasures."
Malcolm shook it off, reciting fiercely. "Aʿudhu billahi min ash-shaytan ir-rajim." The imp recoiled, but the fight intensified. A brute devil slammed into Gronk, sending the orc skidding back. Kira blasted it with lightning, but it adapted, absorbing the energy and growing larger.
The team was holding, but the numbers were overwhelming. Zombies clawed at their barriers, devils circled overhead, and the Necromancer hurled bolts of necrotic fire that scorched the ground.
Then, in the midst of the melee, Malcolm spotted it—a swirling mass of cosmic shadow detaching from a dying devil. It was no ordinary essence; it writhed like living ink, pulsing with the raw power of the unseen realms. The devil's final scream echoed: "The eater… released!"
The mass lunged—not at Malcolm, but into him. It struck his chest like a thunderbolt, seeping through his skin, bonding with his tattoos. Pain exploded through his body, visions flooding his mind: stars devoured, worlds unmade, endless hunger. It was the Cosmic Eater—a symbiote-like entity born from the devils' corruption, capable of consuming cosmic energy and granting its power to its host.
Like a dark living suit that amplifies its wearer beyond limits, it wrapped around Malcolm's form. His hoodie and armor darkened, veins of black energy threading through the glowing runes. Strength surged—agility doubled, shadows responding to his will like extensions of his body. But with it came the hunger, a voice in his head: Feed. Consume. Take everything.
Malcolm staggered, dropping to one knee. The team faltered, Gronk shouting his name as zombies closed in.
Cosmic Eater (in his mind): "We are one now. Eat the devils. Eat the cosmos. Become unstoppable."
Temptation clawed at him—visions of crushing the Necromancer effortlessly, hoarding infinite power. But Malcolm's faith held firm. He pressed a hand to his chest, over the Qur'an. "La ilaha illallah," he whispered. "I control you—not the other way around."
The Eater writhed in protest, but Malcolm channeled his discipline. The symbiote submitted, its power aligning with his will. His eyes glowed with mixed crimson and golden light. Shadowfang extended, tendrils forming a whip-like extension.
He rose, transformed.
"Team! Cover me—I'm ending this!"
Malcolm leaped into the air, enhanced by the Eater's boost. He Shadow Stepped mid-jump, reappearing above a cluster of devils. "Cosmic Eater—feed!"
Tendrils shot from his arms, latching onto the nearest devil. It screamed as its essence was devoured, power flowing into Malcolm. His stats surged in his HUD: Strength +20, Energy +25, a new bar appearing: Cosmic Charge 100%.
He spun, consuming another devil in mid-air, its fire abilities transferring to him. Flames wreathed his blade now, purified by Noor into holy inferno.
The Necromancer snarled. "What sorcery is this? Devils—destroy him!"
A horde of imps swarmed Malcolm. He laughed—a fierce, controlled sound—and unleashed Umbra Vortex amplified by the Eater. Shadows crushed them en masse, devouring their forms whole. Power flooded him: illusions shattered, whispers silenced.
Gronk, inspired, hammered through zombies with renewed fury. Kira's lightning synced with Malcolm's flames, creating explosive chains. Elara's arrows pierced the Necromancer's barriers, weakening him.
But the leader wasn't done. He summoned a massive devil lord—a behemoth of horns and brimstone, bound to the goblin cabal's ancient pact. It roared, earth shaking as it charged.
Malcolm met it head-on. The Eater enhanced his agility—he dodged its massive fists, Shadow Stepping onto its back. Tendrils burrowed in, consuming its cosmic core. The lord bellowed, shrinking as Malcolm absorbed its strength: Endurance infinite, regeneration kicking in as wounds closed instantly.
"Enough!" the Necromancer hurled a rift at Malcolm, devils pouring through.
Malcolm extended his arms. "Cosmic Eater—devour the void!"
The symbiote obeyed, mouth-like voids forming on his palms. He pulled the rift into himself, consuming the devils mid-summon. Power peaked: he felt the cosmos in his veins, stars and shadows at his command.
The Necromancer faltered, fear cracking his mask. "Impossible… we goblins were destined to rule!"
Malcolm advanced, blade raised. "Destined by devils? That's no honor. It's a curse."
One final strike—Shadowfang, wreathed in consumed cosmic fire and golden Noor—plunged into the Necromancer's chest. Tendrils spread, devouring his corruption from within. He screamed as his form unraveled, the goblin runes crumbling to dust.
The cavern quieted. Remaining zombies collapsed, devils fleeing back to their rifts. The labyrinth groaned, seals reforming.
Malcolm exhaled, the Eater settling under his control. It was part of him now—like a suit of living shadow, enhancing without overwhelming, tempered by his discipline.
The team gathered, battered but alive.
Elara: "What… was that?"
Malcolm: (smirking faintly) "A gift from the enemy. Turned against them. Let's get out—before more come."
As they ascended, Malcolm felt the power humming—Cosmic Eater, ready to consume whatever threats remained above.
To be continued...