In the suffocating stillness of Howard's suite, the air trembled—subtly at first, then with a mounting distortion, as though some unseen hand were twisting the threads of reality itself.
A low, resonant hum lingered in the walls, vibrating through glass and bone alike.
The body bag lay open.
Howard's pallid, greyed form was no longer still.
Suspended drops of crimson—once adrift in the air—drew together as if compelled by an ancient will, weaving into a skeletal lattice around a pulsating, amorphous core of blood.
Muscles began to knit themselves over the frame, sinew tightening with an obscene, organic rhythm.
Bone solidified, flesh crept forward, and the figure began—painfully, inexorably—to resemble the man it had once been.
Howard rose.
His form was incomplete; strips of skin still stretched thin across raw muscle, bone glinting in the gaps.
This is my last chance, he thought, the idea burning with a cold, lucid desperation.
He thought of using Seaborn blood once more but to unleash it fully would be to endanger Ch'en and Hoshiguma, and it's would lay bare secrets.
There was no other way.
Skin closed over the final gaps, leaving only pale scars where the Collapsal's rod had impaled him.
A long breath escaped his throat, guttural and raw.
With deliberate care, he reached for the black shorts and t-shirt folded on the chair.
The fabric clung to him as he dressed, covering a body reborn in silence.
"I'll be there soon… partners," he murmured, glancing toward the earbud on the table—though the signal, he knew, had long since gone to static.
---
The corridor stretched before Ch'en and Hoshiguma like the spine of some sleeping beast, its vertebrae lit by a single, faltering lamp far at the end.
The darkness between was heavy.
Oppressive.
Ch'en's fingers tightened around Chi Xiao, the blade's faint blue light pushing back the gloom like a fragile lantern against a storm.
Beside her, Hoshiguma's lighter burned with an unsteady flame, casting uncertain shadows along the warped walls.
The air pressed close around them, alive with a steady pulse—too deliberate, too hungry to be anything natural.
Howard's voice had been lost to the Collapsal's interference minutes ago.
They walked alone now.
At the corridor's end, the floor fell away into a cavernous space hidden beneath the hotel.
It was a parody of the Siesta Solace's gilded halls—its walls coated in a tar-like black secretion that pulsed with a sickly, sluggish heartbeat.
The lone lamp above sputtered in protest, its glow barely revealing the shapes coiling out from the corners: masses of flesh and fog, their forms melting and reforming with grotesque intent.
Dozens of eyes, wet and lidless, blinked from their surfaces.
Some of the things crawled on jointed, arachnid limbs, each step accompanied by a wet scrape.
Others slithered in obscene undulations, leaving behind streaks of ichor that hissed faintly against the floor.
The air warped around them; the hum here was deeper, heavier—close to unravelling thought itself.
"These things…" Ch'en's voice was barely above a whisper, but steady.
"They're not normal."
Howard warned us, she thought grimly, but now—now he's gone silent.
Hoshiguma drew herself up, shield in hand, eyes sharp even beneath the dim, shivering light.
"Doesn't matter what they are," she growled.
"They're in our way."
The flashlight above flickered again, and Ch'en realised its light distorted more than it revealed—warping the creatures' movements, breaking their outlines into tricks of shadow.
She slid Chi Xiao back into its sheath.
"Hoshiguma," she said sharply, "hold the front. Nothing gets through. I'll watch the rear."
A nod. The oni planted her feet and raised her shield, a wall of iron and will.
"Got it, Chief."
Ch'en shut her eyes.
The darkness behind her eyelids was cleaner than the false light.
She let her mind sink into the rhythm of the room—the air's subtle disturbances, the low vibrations that marked every twitch of claw or tendon.
Her fingers tightened around Chi Xiao's hilt.
"Stay close," she breathed. The blade cleared its sheath, and its blue light flared once more.
The first creature struck.
A mass of clawed limbs surged toward Hoshiguma, but her shield met it with an echoing crack.
A shockwave rippled through the chamber, shoving the thing back, its eyes bursting like overripe fruit.
"Come on, freaks!" she snarled, batting away another strike.
Ch'en's movements were silent—almost weightless—as she caught the vibration of something rushing in from behind.
She spun, Chi Xiao's arc slicing through a slithering mass, the creature splitting into halves that dissolved into whispering mist.
"Keep them off me!" she called.
"I've got it!" Hoshiguma's shield slammed into a multi-limbed monstrosity, folding its frame with a sickening crunch.
She ducked beneath a scything claw and countered, the edge of her shield smashing through bone-like growths.
"These things don't quit!"
The chamber seethed. Each creature moved with a madness that tore at the edges of reason—scraping, clicking, slithering.
Ch'en's blade answered them all, carving arcs of blue light through flesh and vapour alike.
But there were too many.
A looming shadow swelled behind her—a larger thing, pulsing with tendrils and a crown of eyes.
The air screamed as it struck.
Ch'en's eyes remained closed as she turned and drove Chi Xiao upward.
The blade pierced deep into its core, and the creature wailed—a sound so piercing it rattled the walls—before collapsing into black ruin.
Still, the chamber crawled.
Back-to-back, the two women fought on. Steel flashed; the shield struck like a hammer.
The horrors came without end, yet Ch'en and Hoshiguma held—two sparks of will against a night that wanted only to swallow them whole.
And somewhere, beyond that night, something listened.
***
Ch'en and Hoshiguma stood back-to-back, breaths ragged, the chamber littered with the dissolving remains of the Collapsal's spawn.
The black ichor spread across the stone like spilled ink, pooling where broken limbs and shreds of vapor had once been.
The air still thrummed with that low, steady hum—deep enough to be felt in the chest.
The creatures faltered.
Their crawling and skittering slowed, as if something unseen had seized their strings.
Dozens of white eyes appeared in unison, their pupils tightening. And then—without a sound—they began to rise.
Fragments of fog, stray limbs, scraps of glistening tissue—all were drawn upward, as though the pull of the earth had been overturned.
They twisted and merged mid-air, folding into one another with wet, hideous squelches.
The shapes coalesced.
A sphere took form—massive, pulsating, blacker than shadow.
Its surface swirled with a living fog, and at its heart burned a perfect white circle, small yet searing, like the iris of a predatory eye.
The air bent around it, light warping at the edges as if the thing were swallowing not only space, but thought itself.
Ch'en's stomach churned. Her instincts screamed.
"What… is that?" she murmured, barely audible.
Hoshiguma raised her shield, dented yet steadfast, the lighter in her hand casting a trembling flame.
"Whatever it is—bad news. Stay sharp, Chief."
Before another word could form, a sound cut through the chamber.
A violin.
Its note was thin, piercing, discordant—like glass drawn across steel—and it scraped at the edges of thought.
Ch'en staggered, the pulse of her heartbeat thrown into chaos, Chi Xiao's grip slipping for an instant.
Hoshiguma gritted her teeth, the lighter trembling.
"Damn it—where's that coming from?"
Above the sphere, the air fractured.
A jagged tear split open, spilling cold, blinding blue light into the chamber.
It was wrong light—too sharp, too clean—and in its pulse flashed glimpses of somewhere else.
The shapes glimpsed beyond it were not meant for human eyes.
Ch'en's throat tightened.
"This is worse than bad… it's opening something."
Hoshiguma's gaze fixed on the rift, her eyes wide beneath her scowl.
"Then we stop it—now."
They charged. Chi Xiao's glow brightened; the shield became a moving wall.
But the rift reacted first—unleashing a wave of force that struck them like a physical thing, hurling them back, stealing the breath from their lungs.
The sphere's pulsing quickened, the white circle burning brighter, as if feeding on the wound in the air.
The hum deepened until it was almost a growl.
The ground shook.
Cracks spiderwebbed outward beneath their feet.
Above, the tear yawned wider, the ceiling itself warping into a massive, shimmering hole.
And then—gravity turned traitor.
Chairs, fragments of chandeliers, shards of the Solace's gold-leaf trim—everything tore free, drifting upward into the light above.
Ch'en and Hoshiguma felt the floor give way entirely, the ground vanishing beneath them.
They fell.
The hole devoured them, swallowing their cries in the chaos.
The sphere's rift sealed with an abrupt snap, but the larger breach remained—a wound in the world, dragging them down into an endless descent.
It was then that a voice rose from the dark.
Clear. Familiar.
"Hope I'm not too late."
Ch'en's eyes widened. "Howard!"
Hoshiguma's head snapped up, her shield clutched like a lifeline.
From above, a shape descended—once human, now… not.
Howard's regenerated body was warped, his face a shifting mass of shadow, the features distorting and blackening until a pale white ring burned—mirroring the sphere's core.
His hands had darkened into clawed extensions of the void itself, their edges blurring against the light.
When he spoke, the sound was layered—his voice and something deeper, alien, speaking in unison.
"You shouldn't have touched my partners."
He dove.
The impact of his blackened fist against the sphere's heart cracked the air.
The white circle flared, its glow faltering as the sphere emitted a wail so sharp it seemed to unpick the threads of the chamber.
Even as they fell, Ch'en and Hoshiguma could barely watch him grapple with the abomination, his form shifting with every movement, the Collapsal's chaotic energy now radiating from him in waves.
The battle was not yet decided.
But in that moment, Howard's defiance burned brighter than the darkness that sought to claim them all.
***
The void churned, a warped reality where gravity twisted and time stretched into an endless fall.
Howard, a grotesque fusion of human and Collapsal, fought to keep his mind intact.
His black, fog-laced body pulsed with unnatural energy, the white ring of his eye flickering as the Collapsal's corruption clawed deeper.
I'm slipping.
His thoughts frayed at the edges.
If I don't end this now, I'll be one of them.
His distorted voice tore through the darkness.
"Ch'en! Use your sword! Pierce it! Follow my voice!"
Ch'en tumbled through the abyss, Chi Xiao's blue glow the only light.
Debris spun around her—splintered furniture, twisted steel, fragments of the hotel—each piece adrift in weightless chaos.
"Howard, I can't see you!" she shouted, panic bleeding into her voice.
"Chief, follow my voice!" Hoshiguma barked, her tone steel under strain.
"I'll make you a landing—then you jump!"
She smashed her shield into a drifting slab of debris, creating a stable platform in the chaos.
"Move, now!"
Ch'en darted across floating wreckage, her footing sure despite the disorienting void.
The Collapsal's sphere thrummed in the darkness, its pulse guiding her like a beacon.
She landed on Hoshiguma's shield, the oni anchoring her with sheer strength.
"Where is he?" Ch'en demanded.
"There!" Hoshiguma growled, eyes locked on a faint energy pulse where Howard's voice echoed.
With a grunt, she launched Ch'en forward, her shield a springboard.
Ch'en soared through the void, Chi Xiao raised.
"Howard!" she screamed, thrusting with all her strength—guided only by his voice.
Her eyes snapped open mid-strike.
Her heart froze.
Chi Xiao's blade had pierced straight through Howard's back, the tip jutting from his chest into the Collapsal's sphere beyond.
The entity writhed, its black fog convulsing as the white circle at its core flickered like a panicked eye.
Howard's human form had returned—blood on his lips, a faint smile on his face.
"Nice job, Ch'en," he rasped.
Her hands trembled as she pulled Chi Xiao free, the steel slick with his blood.
"Howard… why didn't you move?" she whispered, voice breaking.
The sphere shuddered violently.
Reality lurched—ground slamming back underfoot as debris crashed around them.
Howard coughed, crimson staining his mouth, but his eyes were steady.
"Couldn't move. Had to hold it in place. Knew you'd hit true if you heard me." His tattered wings fluttered weakly.
Hoshiguma shoved aside rubble and dropped to her knees beside him.
"You idiot! You let her stab you? You're bleeding out!"
Howard managed a pained chuckle.
"I'll regenerate. Takes more than that to kill me." The wound was already closing, though sluggishly.
Ch'en, tears streaking her face, tapped his head gently.
"Never do something that reckless again," she said—soft but fierce.
For a heartbeat, his eyes softened, reflecting her tearful face before the moment slipped away.
Hoshiguma hauled him upright, Ch'en steadying his other side.
Around them, the Collapsal's remains were gone—save for a single blackened shard where her blade had struck, pulsing faintly like a dying ember.
Siesta Solace Hotel – minutes later
The building shook as a special forces unit breached the perimeter.
Black-armored operatives stormed in, Originium rifles sweeping the shadows.
Drones buzzed through the gloom, their red lights slicing the darkness.
"Sector clear."
" Detected Anomaly, sub-level three."
"Contain and neutralize."
Boots thundered on marble floors. Upstairs, teams cleared rooms. In the lobby, others locked down exits.
Below, squads pushed toward the source of the disturbance.
In the shattered chamber, Ch'en, Hoshiguma, and Howard froze as the sound drew closer.
A squad burst in, rifles raised, muzzles leveled.
From their ranks stepped a commander—silver insignia gleaming, voice cool and firm.
"Looks like you three have a lot to talk about," he said, eyes flicking over
Howard's bloodied form, Ch'en's glowing blade, Hoshiguma's dented shield.
"Stand down. We're taking over from here."