The pulse of the Abyss seemed to synchronize with Sam's own heartbeat, growing louder, more insistent. He could feel the weight of its energy pressing against his chest, pulling at him. It was the heart of the Rift—the source of all the chaos, the force that had been corrupting the Resonance, feeding on the fractures of reality.
And it was calling to him.
With every swing of his kampilan, the Beasts fell, but the Rift's forces seemed endless. His limbs burned from the strain, the power of Lapu-Lapu and Bonifacio coursing through him in ways that were both exhilarating and terrifying. His skin crackled with heat, lightning flashing across his body, but still, it wasn't enough. The Beasts kept coming. And the Watcher—the shadowed figure that loomed in the distance—watched, silent and patient, as though everything was part of its design.
Sam's breath was ragged, his vision beginning to blur. It was as if the very fabric of time was warping, dragging him into its endless spiral. He could feel the Rift growing stronger, its hunger expanding.
"Rael! Valencia!" he shouted, his voice barely audible over the roar of the battle. "We need to stop it—now!"
Rael and Valencia were locked in a brutal clash with the Watcher, their movements swift and precise, but it was clear that they were struggling. The Watcher was not just a force of power—it was a force of time, of history, of death. It was everywhere, yet nowhere, bending reality with every flick of its hand.
Rael's sword clashed with the Watcher's ethereal form, sending sparks of energy scattering into the air. Valencia's lance glowed with fierce wind and lightning as she struck again and again, but each blow was absorbed by the Watcher's dark energy.
"You can't win this fight," the Watcher spoke, its voice both a whisper and a roar, echoing in their minds. "You cannot fight fate."
Sam gritted his teeth, forcing himself to stay focused. He couldn't let fear take over. They had come this far, and they couldn't let the Rift consume them now.
Taking a deep breath, he pushed himself forward, his body a blur of motion as he charged toward the center of the Rift, where the pulsing heart of the Abyss awaited. Every step felt like it drained him further, but he knew what he had to do. The Resonance needed to be awakened—not just in him, but in the very core of the Rift itself.
As he drew closer to the heart, the air grew colder, the light darker. His Veins flared as his connection to the ancestral spirits deepened. Lapu-Lapu's fiery strength surged within him, mixed with the storming fury of Bonifacio's will. But it wasn't enough. Not yet.
Sam slammed his fist into the ground, calling upon the energy of his ancestors, of his past, of all that had come before him. He needed their power, their strength. The Resonance had to be restored, to fight back against the darkness that sought to consume everything.
For a moment, it seemed like nothing happened.
And then—
A shockwave of pure energy rippled through the Rift. The ground cracked and twisted as the very heart of the Abyss began to unravel.
The Watcher's eyes narrowed, its mask flickering like a broken film reel. "You are a fool," it hissed. "You cannot stop what is already in motion."
But Sam didn't falter. He stood tall, summoning every ounce of his power, every ounce of his spirit. His body crackled with light as the Resonance flared within him.
"Not alone," Sam whispered, his voice low but fierce. "We are not alone."
Behind him, Rael and Valencia stood, their weapons glowing with the energy of their own Veins, their spirits linked to his. They weren't just fighting for themselves—they were fighting together.
And together, they could stop this.
The Watcher charged, its chains spinning, its dark energy radiating with the full force of the Abyss. Sam raised his arms, a barrier of glowing light forming around him. The chains crashed into the barrier with a deafening roar, but Sam stood firm.
"This ends now!" Sam shouted, summoning the full strength of his Resonance. Flames, lightning, wind, and earth swirled around him in a violent storm. His Vein surged—every ancestor, every hero he had summoned, standing with him in spirit. And then, with a final, powerful strike, he slammed his hands into the ground.
A pulse of pure light shot upward, ripping through the Rift like a spear. The Watcher shrieked in agony as the energy tore through its form, its presence shattering. The chains fell away, their ominous hum silenced.
The Rift itself seemed to cry out, but Sam didn't stop. He couldn't. Not until the last remnants of its power were destroyed.
And then—silence.
For a moment, the world stood still. The swirling chaos of the Rift froze, the distortion fading into nothingness. The Beasts vanished, as if they had never existed at all. The darkness that had consumed the land began to recede, the light of day breaking through.
But Sam knew it wasn't over. Not yet.
The Rift was still there, deep within the heart of the Abyss. And something else was waiting. Something worse.
"Is it… over?" Valencia asked, her voice hoarse.
Sam shook his head, exhaustion sinking in. "No. This is just the beginning."
The ground beneath them rumbled again, and in the distance, they could hear the echo of footsteps. Heavy, rhythmic. The sound of something coming.
Something far worse than the Watcher.