Golden light blasted outward, throwing Lira into the wall. The force knocked the breath from her lungs, vision blurring. She forced herself up—

—and froze.

Yuri and the creature stood locked together in the center of the hall, shadows spiraling around them. The creature's hand was buried in Yuri's chest—not piercing flesh, but sinking through like smoke through smoke.

And Yuri's hand was buried in the creature's core.

Neither moved.

Lira reached for her blade, heart hammering. "Yuri—"

He didn't respond.

The creature's voice vibrated through the corridor, no longer shouting.

A whisper.

A promise.

"Return."

And then the hall split open with a sound like the sky tearing in half.

The tear ripped downward through the corridor like a jagged blade, carving an open wound through air and stone alike. The walls buckled inward under the pressure, sigils cracking, metal beams bending with a drawn-out groan. Dust exploded outward in a storm as fragments of masonry rained across the hall.

Lira shielded her face with her forearm and pushed through the debris cloud. Her lungs burned. The air itself felt thinner near the tear, as if the world was being siphoned away. When her vision cleared enough to make out the center of the corridor, she saw Yuri and the creature still locked together.

Neither had moved.

Shadows whipped around them, drawn into the widening tear. The creature's hand was still embedded in Yuri's chest—not puncturing flesh, but phasing through his body, sinking deeper as the tear dragged at both of them. Yuri's arm was buried just as deep in the creature's core, fingers hooked onto something that pulsed like a heartbeat inside the mass of darkness.

The sound coming from the tear changed. Less a roar, more a grinding pull—like a massive vacuum dragging at every loose scrap of reality. Lira felt her boots skidding across the floor as the force dragged at her weight.

"Yuri!" she yelled, forcing her legs to stay braced. "Let go!"

He didn't answer.

The creature twisted its head toward her, the motion stiff, unnatural. Its face was still Yuri's—closer than ever before. Almost perfect. But the eyes gave it away. Too reflective. Too empty. Nothing behind them.

It opened its mouth.

"Return."

Lira lunged, slashing forward with her blade. The tear's pull made the strike curve off-line, but she forced through, dragging the blade's edge across the creature's back. It cut. Not deeply, but it cut. A streak of dark vapor hissed into the air.

The creature flinched and tightened its grip on Yuri.

Lira swung again, this time jumping into the pull, letting the suction drag her forward. The blade sank deeper this time, carving a sharp line down the creature's spine. Dark vapor spilled out, writhing like smoke underwater.

Yuri jerked at the impact, finally reacting.

"Lira—back!"

She didn't.

"Shut up," she snapped, slashing again. "If you were going to die, you'd have done it already!"

The creature snapped its head toward her again, eyes flickering with sudden, unnerving awareness—like it had just now realized she was a threat.

It released Yuri.

But it didn't let him go—it pushed him.

Yuri staggered backward as the creature lunged straight at Lira, its arm still partially phased, shadowy residue trailing behind like tar being stretched. Its fingers formed a hooked claw, aiming straight for her throat.

She dropped low, sliding under its arm. The floor vibrated beneath her as the creature's claw smashed into the wall, punching straight through stone like wet clay.

The tear behind them widened with a violent shudder. Loose debris flew upward, stones lifted as if gravity itself had reversed. The air temperature dropped sharply. Lira could see the frost forming across the floor in thin spiderweb patterns.

She used the brief moment of slack in the suction to scramble toward Yuri.

"We have to move!" she shouted.

Yuri ignored that. His eyes were locked on the creature, then on the tear, mind racing. She recognized that look—he was calculating something, fast. Something she probably wouldn't like.

The creature turned back toward them, its outline flickering. Its form had grown sharper again after absorbing Yuri's sword, but now it was destabilizing. Its torso wavered like a flame in high wind. Its limbs stretched then snapped back, struggling to stay coherent.

It spoke again—but this time the voice was wrong. Not echoing. Not monotone.

Layered.

Two voices. One Yuri's. One something deeper.

"Return."

Lira grabbed Yuri's arm. "Move. Now."

He tore his gaze from the tear. "We're not outrunning that pull."

"Then we don't run," she snapped. "We shut the tear."

Yuri barked a harsh laugh. "With what? I don't have a blade. The glyph nodes are destroyed. The anchor runes on the floor might as well be chalk dust."

Lira tightened her grip. "You still have your hands."

The creature lunged again.

Yuri shoved Lira behind him and caught the brunt of the impact on his forearms. The creature's claws sank into the protective bracers, metal screeching as it dented under the force. Yuri growled, forcing its arm aside and driving a knee into its shifting torso.

His knee sank into shadowy mass like plunging into ink. The creature didn't react to pain. It reacted to obstruction.

It retaliated, slamming its forehead into Yuri's. The crack echoed across the hallway. Yuri staggered back, blood dripping from his brow.

Lira moved instantly, stabbing upward at the creature's gut. Her blade hit something solid for once—some hardened part of it, maybe the core shifting position. The blade sank an inch, then met resistance.

The creature swiped at her. She ducked, rolled aside, and tore the blade free with a sharp jerk.

The tear shrieked behind them, widening another foot. The air was nearly impossible to breathe. Every breath felt like dragging ice into her lungs.

Yuri wiped the blood from his face with the back of his hand.

"We end this now," he said, voice low and steady.

For a moment, Lira almost smiled. At least he sounded like himself.

The creature spoke again, voice cracking between its two tones.

"Return."

"No," Yuri growled, taking a step forward. "I'm done with that."