BOOM!!!

"Watch out!!!"

BANG!! BANG!!

"Argh!!!"

Right at this moment, the area down below on Endless domain has become an area of light and sound.

Kael Dragonyx no longer looked human; his body had erupted into the nightmare the name promised — five monstrous, chaotic digits crowned his great forepaws; a long, segmented neck tipped by a maw filled with jagged, lightning-fused teeth; scales that shimmered between storm-blue and living shadow; and his head that snarled with a hungry voice. This head continually spewing lightning and chaos magic.

Opposite him, Alen's transformation was worse than what Lila and the others feared. The Dark Magi had stopped being a man and become an engine of ruin: the bodies of Labyrinth creatures — all of them that were scattered all around the kingdom— had flowed into him like a flood, their faces and limbs surfacing and diving in a hideous, writhing armor. Limbs stitched to fleshless frames formed extra arms; teeth and eyes glowed in the armor — a screaming cathedral of stolen lives. His voice echoed with many mouths when he spoke; his hands could bloom into more blades than any ordinary body should hold. Where he walked the floor became a field of twitching corpses.

They hunted the defenders with merciless coordination. Kael's tails smashed masonry and men with equal disdain; a sweep from one of his five claws took Drake's sword off the arm and cracked bone beneath; lightning tongued out and seared a line through a squad of spearmen. Alen did not merely cast spells — he exhaled a tide of devouring shadows that swallowed Guinevere's inferno into hungry darkness and, for a breath, turned her flame into screaming ash before she clawed herself free.

Eldoria's warriors were being shredded. Kelvin's chaos scythe was caked in ichor; Christopher's crimson blade had nicked a dragon's scale and tasted metal and bone; Morris poured elemental storms at Alen only for the abyssal flesh to drink them like rain. One by one the line creaked. They held, battered and bloody, but the room smelled like a funeral pyre for a continent.

'Ok, seems like I have no choice here'

And then Lila stepped forward.

She had been standing at the rear, every muscle taut, her Seer sight stretched to the limits. For weeks the Lyseria inheritance had whispered to her: fragments, patterns, the echo of an old map of destiny. Now she walked to the center of the wrecked and desolate field and raised both arms until every eye — friend and enemy — was forced to look.

"You will not break today," she said, but it was not the voice of a girl. It was an edict falling from a throne. Her pupils dilated and silverlight spilled from them, the signature of Lyseria's true vision. The air around her went thin; things sharpened to painful clarity. Runes formed on her skin, sigils that had not been seen for an age, and they burned not with fire but with the cold inevitability of fate.

"Wait Lila!! What exactly are you doing!!?"

Drake reached for her, Drake shouted for her to wait, for the price — but Lila's eyes never left Kael and Alen. "If I do not do this, there is no tomorrow," she said. She had already decided.

And in a heartbeat....

She began. It was not a shout or a flare but a weaving — slow and perfect. Fingers traced circles that unfurled into enormous runes overhead; threads of possibility braided and tightened. The Vision of Lyseria unfolded like a sealed book opening. The rune-circle above the field pulsed; for an instant the battlefield was a diagram of all outcomes, and Lila's hand moved to pluck the end of the right thread.

'What is she planning to do?' Kael thought with a pensive look on his face as he began to have a bad feeling about it. Meanwhile, Alen chuckled darkly as he spoke. "Do you honestly think just your puny power will bring the end to us? Please, don't overestimate yourself"

"Yeah, I admit that my power alone won't do the deed" Lila said with a light smile in his face. "But it least I can make it to be the start of your downfall"

And when she pulled, causality answered.

"Core Distortion: The Vision!"

CRACKLE!! CRACKLE!!!

Light like memory descended. It struck Kael first. His head snarled, teeth bared; lightning cracked, hungry and violent — and then each bolt hit an invisible lattice and stuttered, as if the storm itself found its arms suddenly bound. Lyseria's sigils had not damaged his body so much as leash the chaotic law that fed him: lightning that had been free to rend now became constrained and predictable; the fractured time around him steadied. Scale and sinew flared under the pressure as the bindings forced the dragon form to reconcile to a single truth: this shape is not home.

Alen's change was uglier. Lila's web snared him like a net of law. The faces stitched into his armor howled as threads of destiny tugged them back toward the stories that had made them — the lives the Labyrinth stole. For a heartbeat the stolen eyes in Alen's skin found their own pasts and screamed. The mass of corpses tried to struggle against the rewinding pull, but Lila's binding law reached into the crusted darkness and began to unweave it; shadows that had once been teeth now loosened and dropped. Where Alen's body had been a single, impossible mass, the Vision pried tiny seams between the devoured, and the voices that had coalesced into the doom-incarnate fractured into separate, pained wails.

The effect was violent and wrenching. The area filled with a sound like tearing cloth and dying storms. Kael's jaws snapped shut on the air and sprayed blue blood. Alen's limbs convulsed; pieces of the Labyrinth essence sloughed from him in smoking chunks of broken shadow and bone.

Lila's spell was not gentle. It leaned into truth and drove it home like a nail. The Vision forced the corrupted forms to answer. They belonged somewhere in the story of Aetheris — they had been stolen from their places — and the Seer yanked that theft into the light.

Charlotte planted her shield between Lila and the backlash when the first wave of retaliatory screams ripped outward. The Divine Shield found purchase and held the shock. Drake and Neana moved as one into the opening Lila's sigils created.

Now the battlefield shifted from frantic defense to surgical offense.

Drake charged Kael's nearest flank while the dragon reeled, and where before it had seemed impossible to reach the heart, his greatsword now found purchase in the few meters of flesh between scale seams. The blow did not fall Kael, but it carved a long, deep gash that yelped with blue blood and howled with lightning like a bell being struck. Christopher darted with crimson arcs, shredding membranes under a claw where the scale had been forced thin by Lila's binding; the dragon's wing spasmed and folded, losing lift.

At the same time, Morris let loose of his Elemental Matrix at Alen's newly exposed core: a cascading lattice of ice and iron and root that gripped the abomination like a living tracer. Elemental screaming filled the area as fire, water, stone and wind braided together to hold and tear. Guinevere threw herself through the matrix, a phoenix avenging light, and immolated the exposed seams where the devoured corpses clung to Alen's chest. Her flames met shadow and the two spat at one another; where the fire touched the stitched flesh it burned away the worst of the corruption, and blackened phantoms peeled free and collapsed into nothing.

Eirana, moving like a wrecking force honed by Nullcarver Qi, punched a gap in Alen's armored flank; her fist exploded through a layer of fused bones and hollowed a great hole that made the doom-incarnate wobble. Kelvin's chaos scythe — now guided by Lila's sight — struck at tendons between the Kael's head and neck; he did not cleave the beast's neck completely but severed the tethering cords of magic that let those heads coordinate. The dragon's roar became a series of staggering cries, less a chorus than a broken choir now missing singers.

ROAR!!!

Even so, both monstrosities fought back with terrible, animal cunning. Alen flung up a tide of reformed Labyrinth skeletons that rose to plug the hole Eirana had torn; Kael's front paw smashed down in a sweep that sent Drake skidding into a heap of splintered stone. The price the defenders paid was high: Drake's left arm was pierced and bleeding, Christopher's ribs bit by shards, Guinevere staggered under a backlash that singed her flesh, and Lila's face had gone an ashen pale as the Vision strained through her.

But the key had been bought — the momentum shifted.

Where before their assaults had been burned aside like sparks, now every blade sank deeper, every spell bit home, and every shield was used to hold the opening created by the Seer. The doom-incarnate convulsed as the lives it had stolen sought their original ends; fracturing souls tried to tear out of Alen's body and fell like dead moths, leaving holes that the living filled with strikes. The five-fingered dragon's balance stuttered as three of its heads spasmed, blue smoke curling from cracked throats.

Lila's ultimate cost was not small. With each thread she tugged, the runes branded her own nerves like iron. Her knees buckled; the sigils on her skin scorched and then cooled as her life force poured into the binding. Charlotte gripped her hand and steadied her as the shield held off the residual backlash that sought to claw back at the Seer. "You did it," Charlotte rasped, her voice thick. "You gave us a way in."

Lila managed a thin smile, lips bleeding from exhaustion. "We all gave a way," she whispered. "Now—push."

And obviously, they pushed.

Rodriguez howled and dove into the torn flank of Alen with devouring ferocity, his blade drinking the last of the abyssal stitches. Neana braided Juggernaut strikes into the dragon's chest until his head bled and gurgled. Ethan, wrapped in mist and now guided by both Lila's sight and Kelvin's chaotic misdirection, slipped between claws and found soft places to stab. Morris anchored the Elemental Matrix and let it flourish into a tearing root that wrapped itself into Alen's collapsing heart of shadow. Guinevere snapped and brought down a phoenix blast that seared the exposed core to ash.

For a breath — a single, roaring, impossible breath — the two abominations staggered. Their voices, once proclamations of inevitability, were reduced to ragged screams of pain and fury. The ground shook convulsively where the doom-incarnate lurched, where the dragon tried to find purchase and instead tasted steel and fire in raw, open flesh.

They were wounded. They had not fallen. They were not yet finished. But the advantage had slid away from Kael and Alen like oil from stone.

And above the ruin, Kaelen's battle with Endless still screamed and tore at the sky — but down here, in the broken, gritty theater of men, elves and Nullcarvers, the defenders had bought themselves a moment that tasted like survival.

Lila slumped against Charlotte's gilded shoulder, eyes half-lidded, lips cracked. Around them, breathing hard, bleeding, limping, every hand reached for a weapon, for a spell, for the momentum.

Kael Dragonyx reared, his head snapping, blue blood steaming from fresh wounds; Alen's body shuddered, pieces of Labyrinth biomass collapsing. They did not retreat — not yet. They were horrors born of ambition and theft. They would not die to pity and law.

But for the first time that day, the defenders saw a path: if they could keep the pressure, if Lila could hold the Vision long enough, if Morris and Drake could carve the wounds deeper, then there might be a way to unmake what Endless and his servants had become.

The area trembled on the edge of another scream — and everyone braced, knowing that the monster's next response would be worse for being wounded.