Xin lunged toward the golden disk, muscles burning, heart hammering in his chest. He knew—knew—that if he could just reach it, everything could end. Whatever dark force had overtaken Raven, whatever unnatural grip had twisted his friend into this unrelenting monster, was tied to that accursed object. If he could destroy it, maybe—just maybe—he could bring Raven back.
But Raven wouldn't let him.
With terrifying speed, he was upon Xin again, intercepting his movement with a brutal strike. A gauntleted fist crashed into Xin's outstretched arm.
Crack.
A sickening snap echoed through the chamber. The pain was instant, white-hot, blinding. Xin barely registered it before he was thrown backward, his body colliding with the pulsating, fleshy ground. His vision blurred, nausea twisting in his gut. His left arm—his spear arm—hung limply at his side, twisted at an unnatural angle. He tried to flex his fingers, but they refused to respond, frozen in an agonizing spasm.
His breath came in short, ragged gasps. The pain was excruciating, but he clenched his teeth, forcing himself not to scream. A strangled, involuntary whimper escaped his throat, but he bit it back. He had suffered worse. Pain was nothing new to him.
What was new, however, was the sheer relentlessness of the thing Raven had become.
There was No hesitation. No mercy.
Xin barely had time to shift before Raven was there again, his movements jerky, unnatural—but impossibly fast. Another strike came, this time a savage kick aimed straight at Xin's side.
He had no way to block it. No way to dodge.
The impact was devastating.
A sharp, wet crunch rattled through Xin's body as his ribs shattered under the force of the blow. White-hot agony ripped through his torso, setting his nerves ablaze. His breath hitched, a choked gasp forcing its way out of his throat. He couldn't breathe. Every inhalation felt like knives stabbing into his lungs. His vision darkened at the edges, and for a horrifying moment, he thought he might black out.
No.
He hit the ground hard, the fleshy surface slick with bile and decay, and rolled onto his side, coughing violently. Blood splattered onto the ground beneath him, dark and wet. His chest burned, the taste of iron thick on his tongue.
He was running out of time.
Raven didn't stop. He loomed over Xin, fists clenched, body twitching, the remnants of his former self buried beneath something darker, something inhuman. His movements were devoid of thought—just pure, predatory instinct. The thing controlling him had turned him into a weapon, a relentless force of destruction with only one goal: to stop Xin at any cost.
Xin tried to push himself up, but his body screamed in protest. His broken arm was useless. His shattered ribs sent fresh waves of agony through him with every shallow breath. His muscles trembled, and his vision wavered. He knew one thing for certain.
If he stayed down, he was dead.
The golden disk gleamed just beyond Raven's figure, pulsing with unnatural energy. It called to him, radiating a sickly light, an ominous hum vibrating through the chamber. So close.
Xin gritted his teeth and forced his body to move.
Every inch was agony.
Every breath, a battle.
He planted his good hand against the ground, pushing himself up onto one knee. His broken ribs protested, sharp daggers of pain stabbing through his chest, but he swallowed the scream clawing at his throat. He couldn't afford to hesitate. His broken arm throbbed with each pulse of his heart, and his shattered ribs sent sharp daggers of agony through his chest with every movement. But none of it mattered. He had to reach the disk.
He stole a glance at Raven, still twitching, still moving despite the wound in his side. Xin knew it hadn't been a fatal stab—the blade had entered, but there was no blood, no weakness. The thing controlling Raven didn't let him feel pain. Didn't let him fall.
Xin's stomach twisted. He didn't want to do this. He didn't want to hurt Raven more than he already had. But if he didn't stop him now, even for just a moment, he would never reach the golden disk.
He clenched his fist. He had no other choice.
Xin forced himself to stand, feeling the energy deep within him—the raw force of ether coursing through his veins. He rarely used it this way. He was no master of hand-to-hand combat, but he had learned. Belial. He had studied him, watched his movements, learned the fundamentals of fighting without a weapon. It would have to be enough.
Raven came again, a blur of motion, his gauntlets slashing toward Xin's throat. But this time, Xin was ready.
He ducked low, rolling forward, ignoring the fire in his broken ribs. He planted his feet and drove his fist into Raven's abdomen, sending a shockwave through the chamber. Raven staggered, but only for a moment. He lashed out with unnatural speed, a backhanded strike aiming for Xin's temple. Xin barely managed to sidestep, but the force of the attack sent wind rushing past his face, close enough to sting his skin.
Raven was fast. But Xin was stronger.
Ether surged through his muscles, reinforcing them, making him faster, harder. He struck again, his knuckles slamming into Raven's face with a resounding crack. The blow sent Raven reeling, but he recovered almost instantly, his movements jerky, puppet-like, unnatural.
Xin didn't let up. He pressed forward, his fists hammering into Raven's chest, his ribs, his arms. Every strike sent a jolt of pain through Xin himself—his own skin splitting, his knuckles raw and bleeding, his legs tearing apart with each brutal kick. His shin cracked against Raven's ribs, and the impact sent a shudder through his entire frame.
But he was winning. He was winning.
With one final burst of energy, Xin gathered every last drop of ether within him, focusing it all into a single, devastating blow. He roared as he drove his fist into Raven's chest, the sheer force of it crumpling the armor inward. A deep, sickening crack echoed through the chamber.
Raven went still.
For a moment, he simply stood there, unmoving, swaying slightly as if on the verge of collapse. And then—
He fell.
Xin stood over him, panting, his body screaming in protest. A strange, hollow feeling settled in his chest. This wasn't victory. This wasn't triumph.
It hurt.
Hurting someone like this went against everything Xin believed in. Everything he stood for. But he had no time to dwell on it. He had to finish this.
Limping, bleeding, he turned toward the golden disk. His vision blurred with exhaustion and pain, but he forced himself forward. Step by step. Closer. Just a little—
CLANG.
A crushing pain exploded through his leg. Xin collapsed with a choked gasp, his world spinning. He barely had time to process the pain before he saw it—the metallic hand wrapped around his leg, fingers digging into flesh and bone.
Raven.
Xin's eyes widened in horror as Raven, broken, battered, but still moving, tightened his grip. And then—
Snap.
A white-hot explosion of agony shot up Xin's leg. His scream was strangled, his body seizing up as Raven crushed his already broken limb. His vision darkened, nausea rising in his throat. But through the haze of pain, he moved. With his remaining strength, he twisted and slammed his free leg into Raven's face, forcing him back for a brief second. It wasn't much, but it was enough.
Xin didn't waste it.
He dragged himself forward, arms trembling, his broken body screaming at him to stop. But he refused. Crawl. One pull at a time. One inch closer. Move, damn you!
The golden disk gleamed just ahead, pulsing with unnatural energy. So close.
Then, a shadow loomed over him.
Raven had caught up.
Xin felt his fingers wrap around his broken leg once more, sending another searing wave of agony through him. His body convulsed from the pain, but he ignored it. He didn't have time for pain. Didn't have time for fear.
With the last ounce of his strength, Xin reached out, his fingers stretching toward the golden disk
And touched it.