The forest had never known silence like this, it been three days since the battle with the mocking bird, and Eclipse has only survived with nothing but the meat of the Mockingbird.
Not even the wind stirred. The fire Eclipse had kindled hours ago had long since burned out, and the roasted remains of the mockingbird still clung to his fingers. But that smell—of smoke and charred flesh—had drawn something.
And Eclipse knew it.
Eclipse stepped into the clearing, the flickering scent of burnt feathers still clinging to his coat. Behind him, the remains of the mockingbird hissed in the dying embers, skin crackled open like blistered bark. He wiped the grease off his hands and frowned. His coat was still sticky from blood and ash. The forest, with its overgrown moss and lightless canopy, should've felt like home by now.
But the silence wasn't natural.
It was watching silence.
And then he heard it. Slow. Heavy. A dragging sound, wet and slithering like rotten meat through grass. Eclipse turned his head slightly, and his lips twitched into a smirk.
Another one.
The Stain emerged from the trees without ceremony, without noise. Its body was vaguely human—but hunched, elongated, stretched into something grotesque. Robes clung to its shoulders like wilted skin. Charred prayer beads hung broken from its neck. Three chests rose and fell with an unnatural rhythm, each ribcage pulsing with the dull thrum of a separate heart. Inside its body, behind layers of translucent flesh, he saw them pulsing: twin Aether cores. One white as bone. One black as scorched bone, and two three hearts. Two of which was Aether hearts and the last one the mandune heart.
Eclipse grinned, cocking his head to the side.
"You followed me," he muttered, voice dry. "That's... flattering."
The Stain was one of those worshippers, praying in that staircase. And it seems to have chased Eclipse through the water.
The beast's jaw opened. It split vertically, like paper tearing under pressure, revealing more teeth than should fit in a humanoid skull. It gurgled something—a chant half-remembered from its human past—and stepped forward.
Eclipse twirled Confessor in his hand.
"You're just a veiled evil," he spat. "Pretending to be sacred. Nothing divine about you."
The beast didn't reply. It didn't charge either. Just walked—one slow step after another. Its blackened claws dragging across the bark of a nearby tree. The wood hissed and cracked beneath the touch.
Eclipse narrowed his eyes.
And for a moment… for just one second… doubt crept into his chest.
The beast didn't speak. It bowed its head—as if in reverence—then moved.
It vanished.
By the time Eclipse registered it, a claw cracked across his jaw, sending him tumbling.
He landed hard. Spit blood.
He laughed anyway, dragging himself up. "Alright… not just ugly. You've got some speed, too."
The beast came again.
This time, Eclipse met it with Confessor drawn—slashing in an arc that should've crippled a normal monster. But the blade barely dug into its side. The enchantment hissed, draining Aether, but the two cores roared in defiance.
It was like trying to drown a fish.
The beast grabbed him by the arm and hurled him through a tree. Bark exploded.
Eclipse gasped—ribs screaming, lungs punctured. He rolled onto his knees.
"Two cores… two hearts…" he wheezed. "Twice the stamina. Twice the stupid."
The monster walked toward him slowly. A sermon with legs.
The beast attacked
Its claws came faster than they should've, a blur of motion that seemed to bend the air around them. Eclipse ducked, sidestepped, rolled left—but a claw caught his coat and tore it, opening a thin red gash along his shoulder.
He retaliated, swinging upward with Confessor, but the beast twisted. It grabbed his arm mid-strike and threw him like a doll.
He hit a tree—hard.
Bark shattered. His breath left his lungs.
He staggered back to his feet, blood trickling from his nose.
"You know… for a priest, you're real demonic," he growled.
The beast lunged again.
Eclipse met it head-on this time. He ducked under its slash, plunged Confessor into its hip, and twisted. The blade screamed with Aether, burning through sinew.
And still the beast didn't fall.
It grabbed his head and slammed it into the dirt.
Once.
Twice.
A third time.
Eclipse's vision flashed white. He gasped for air, coughing mud and blood. His mind reeled. The beast was stronger than anything he'd faced—faster, and it wasn't tiring. The twin cores inside it pulsed brighter, feeding it, healing it. And he—
He was losing.
Badly.
He scrambled away, got to his feet, limped into a run. He didn't care how it looked.
This time—he had to run.
The forest blurred around him, breath coming in sharp gulps. Pain racked his body, his left eye already swelling shut. His coat trailed behind him like a battered flag.
But he never got far.
A weight slammed into his back, sending him tumbling through a patch of thorns.
Eclipse rolled onto his back, blade raised—but the beast stood over him, silent, staring.
It didn't strike.
It waited.
Mocking.
Toying.
"Oh, come on," Eclipse snarled through bloodied teeth. "What? You gonna play with your food now? Think you're funny?"
He spat at its feet. "You look like you were thrown out of heaven and rejected by hell."
The beast tilted its head.
Then it slashed.
His coat split. Skin peeled back from his chest in one long, screaming line. Blood spilled.
"You…" Eclipse coughed, dragging Confessor toward him.
The beast let out a rasping noise—like laughter through a broken throat.
Eclipse stood. Barely.
His entire right side was torn open, bone glinting white through shredded skin. His vision swam.
And still—he spoke.
"Congratulations. You caught me. Now let's see if you can keep me."
He lunged.
Confessor stabbed into its side—Aether sizzling. The beast flinched. Not much, but enough.
Eclipse twisted the blade.
"You ever die before?" he snarled. "I have. It's not special. You're not special."
The beast slammed him down again.
Again.
Again.
Blood splattered across the trees.
Eclipse laughed through it all.
"Yeah. That's it. Get mad. Go ahead—kill me already!"
But the monster didn't. It loomed. Breathing slowly. Toying with him still.
Eclipse spat blood into its face. "You think I'm scared of being a toy? I am the knife in the hand of rage."
He struck again—this time lower, slicing along one of the beast's knees. It staggered.
Eclipse didn't stop.
He slashed upward. Again.
He jumped on its back, blade driving into the base of the neck.
The creature roared and bucked, but Eclipse held on, anchored by fury and fire.
"You followed me from that damn chapel," he screamed into its ear. "You should've stayed praying. Now you get nothing but death!"
The beast thrashed.
Rolled.
Crushed him beneath its weight.
This time Eclipse didn't move.
For a moment—he was still.
Then a breath.
Then a hand.
He dragged himself out from under the carcass of the dying beast, bone visibly shifting beneath his skin. He climbed its spine like a mountain—and stabbed.