Rex caught Lyria around the waist before she could charge out of the shadows, her breath trembling with fury, her glowing dotted lines flaring in a panicked rhythm. She fought him, pushing against his hold, desperate to throw herself at the master who had murdered their people — who had fed their hunters to the beast like offerings.
"Lyria—stop," Rex hissed. "He'll kill you. I'm not letting that happen."
She froze, trembling. Her eyes burned with grief-soaked rage, but she didn't fight him again. She just stared out at the clearing where the master stood bowing before the towering leviathan, its tentacles curling through the dark water like night-colored serpents.
Rex let go of her slowly.
Then he stepped forward.
He walked into the open clearing alone, every step echoing through the water like distant thunder. The master turned toward him, a faint smirk tugging at his mouth — until Rex breathed in and summoned everything he had.
The amber light surged through him.
His gills flared wide, burning like molten metal.
Black scales erupted across both of his arms and legs, racing down his limbs like an accelerating tide. Frog-fish armor clamped into place — predatory, sleek, powerful. His hands and feet sharpened into webbed claws, the transformation forming with a deep, living tremor.
The master's expression broke.
He had never seen this form.
Rex drew his dagger — which immediately stretched, lengthened, hardened — the blade blooming into its full sword form while keeping the same effortless weight, as if it wanted to be held by him.
"Master," Rex growled, "face me."
The master bared his teeth.
"So. You've chosen to interfere."
No war cry. No warning.
He lunged.
Rex met him in a burst of swirling currents and metal flashes. The master struck with enough force to fracture stone, but Rex countered, claws sparking off the spear's shaft. He dodged a thrust and slammed his scaled fist into the master's ribs, sending him reeling — but the master only snarled, madness leaking into his eyes.
"You don't understand!" he shouted. "This valley is dying — WE ARE DYING! We needed power! The beast gives power! IT CHOOSES!"
Rex didn't answer. He couldn't. His breath was ragged, his blood roaring like a storm as he pressed forward, forcing the battle into a furious cyclone of strikes and parries. The master's movements turned desperate, unhinged — fueled by obsession rather than control.
He thrust his spear again. Rex ducked under it, his claws ripping a shallow gash across the master's shoulder.
The master roared.
"You would deny us survival? You would deny me ascension?"
He charged with wild strength, slamming Rex across the clearing. Rex hit the ground hard but pushed himself up instantly — and this time, he didn't hesitate.
He launched at the master with everything he had.
His sword scraped along the spear, knocked it aside, and Rex slammed his scaled knee into the master's chest. The spear fell from numb fingers. The master stumbled back, then dropped to his knees, trembling.
"You fool…" he whispered. "We need power. Power is all that matters."
Behind them — the beast stirred.
The leviathan's massive tentacles lifted, each one glistening with molten glow under its black scales. The remaining hunters, frozen with horror, barely had a moment to move before the beast struck.
One tentacle wrapped around a hunter.
Squeezed.
Popped.
Another.
And another.
And another.
Each body burst into clouded red, sucked into the creature's beak-rimmed maw as if it were taking communion from its worshippers. The master watched with hollow, reverent eyes.
"It is the future…" he murmured. "It is our salvation…"
Rex's heart hammered with fury.
Enough.
He charged the leviathan.
The beast swung a tentacle the size of a tree trunk, but Rex sliced through it with a single, perfect cut. Scalding fluid hissed into the water as the severed limb thrashed. Another tentacle came — he carved through it too, his whole body blazing with amber light.
But the creature was enormous.
And Rex was wearing down.
Its remaining limbs battered the ground around him, crushing stone, stirring deadly currents. One tentacle snatched Rex mid-strike and hurled him across the clearing. He tumbled, hit a rock ledge, and slid to a stop, vision blurring.
The leviathan loomed over him.
And then the water itself began to glow.
Rex blinked. No — not the water.
Lyria.
She hovered above him, her face fierce and focused, eyes blazing like suns.
A glowing crescent moon had formed across her back, surrounded by points of light like stars — a divine constellation shimmering to life.
She raised her hands.
The water around her vibrated.
Then detonated.
A massive beam of searing, condensed energy erupted from her palms and tore into the leviathan, blasting away entire chunks of its armored flesh. The beast recoiled, shrieking through the water, molten fluid streaming from the wounds.
"Rex!" she screamed. "NOW!"
Rex gripped his dagger — and felt all six gems on the base of the blade pulse with him.
He charged.
The leviathan lunged down, its enormous eye glaring at him, glowing with inner magma.
Rex didn't slow.
He sprinted up the beast's wounded tentacle, leapt into the air, and slammed the dagger's tip onto the creature's massive eye.
Amber erupted from him.
The sword expanded instantly, becoming a luminous blade of impossible size — driving through the leviathan's eye, through its skull, through the entire length of its head. The creature convulsed violently, its tentacles thrashing in death spasms.
Rex ripped the blade free.
The beast went still.
And then he saw it.
Floating out of the ruptured eye socket…
A plate.
Small. Glowing faintly.
Waiting.
Rex grabbed it — chest heaving, body shaking, the echoes of battle ringing through him.
The leviathan sank into the darkness below, lifeless.
And Rex held the plate in his clawed hand, knowing everything had just changed again.