Duskmaw's vision swam, the world around him engulfed in an overwhelming darkness, a void that seemed to stretch on endlessly. His breath caught in his throat as a cold, oppressive presence crept closer. The atmosphere was thick with the sound of shifting movements—whispers, scratching, and the faintest click of claws skittering across unseen surfaces.
Eyes—countless, glowing, and hungry—watched him from every direction. They were the eyes of forgotten monsters, creatures that existed beyond time and space, beings that were birthed in the void and forgotten by history. They stared at him, unblinking, with the patience of millennia.
Before Duskmaw could react, a tendril of darkness shot out from the shadows, wrapping itself around his chest. It pulled, crushing the air from his lungs. In the blink of an eye, a cold hand plunged into his chest, its grip impossibly strong. The hand twisted, tearing through his flesh as though it was no more than paper. A sharp, excruciating pain ripped through him, and with an agonizing pull, his heart was ripped from his body.
He collapsed to his knees, gasping for air, the world spinning in and out of focus. Blood poured from the wound, pooling at his feet, but his body refused to die. His vision grew dim, and the creatures around him shifted, a grotesque dance of mouths and fangs, eager to feast.
Evos stood above him, his figure towering and impossibly calm as he gazed down at Duskmaw. His presence radiated a palpable aura of power, crushing all defiance in its wake. He held Duskmaw's heart in his hand, now a crushed mass of blood and pulp.
"Such a weak creature…" Evos muttered, his voice warped, like the grinding of metal on stone. "And I had to descend personally to take care of this? This Byzor guy is much weaker than I thought."
His eyes narrowed, and with a dismissive flick of his wrist, he threw Duskmaw's heart into the dark abyss, where it vanished into the swirling void. He turned on his heel, preparing to walk away, as if the brief encounter had been little more than an inconvenience.
"You bastard!" Duskmaw's voice cracked through the blackness, raw with fury and disbelief. Despite the absence of his heart, he rose to his feet with unnatural ease, his body refusing to succumb to the pain.
Evos paused and glanced over his shoulder, his distorted gaze falling upon the figure of Duskmaw, standing tall and unbroken despite the grievous injury.
"Without a heart... you can live?" Evos said, his voice taking on a mocking, almost curious tone. "Indeed, a strange creature." He turned fully to face Duskmaw, the twisted god's eyes narrowing in intrigue.
Duskmaw gritted his teeth, clutching his chest, where only an empty, bloodied void remained. His body was healing at an alarming rate—an unnatural regeneration that seemed to defy the very laws of life and death.
"You think you've won?" Duskmaw growled, his voice hoarse and rasping. "You don't know what I am... what I can be."
Evos raised a single brow, as if waiting for something more. His presence was overwhelming, an aura of darkness that threatened to crush Duskmaw's very soul, but there was something about this being that stirred something deep within the creature. A longing. A hunger. He wasn't just fighting for survival; Duskmaw was fighting for his own existence, for his very identity.
With a fierce roar, Duskmaw leapt forward, his body moving faster than before, fueled by pure will. His eyes, glowing with an eerie golden light, locked onto Evos, who simply tilted his head, as though expecting this challenge.
A blade of pure energy materialized in his hand, crackling with destructive force as his body surged with a primal power. Without another word, Duskmaw charged.
Suddenly, the castle was gone. The entire structure, along with the battle-ravaged forms of Evos and Duskmaw, vanished in a blink of an eye. The night sky, once a chaotic whirl of energy, returned to its previous stillness as if the world itself had exhaled in relief. The harsh tension in the air dissipated, leaving only a heavy, lingering silence.
Rosaline, Tio, and Celestia stood frozen in the heart of the capital, their feet rooted to the cobbled streets, staring up at the sky as the last traces of the otherworldly disturbance faded. The bustling sounds of the city seemed distant, muted by the overwhelming awe and confusion that had descended upon them. People all around them were just as stunned, their eyes fixated on the heavens, mouths agape.
"W-what the hell just happened?" Celestia's voice broke the silence, her words shaky as she looked up, her eyes wide in disbelief. The moonlight seemed almost too bright now, casting an unnatural pallor over the landscape. Her heart was still pounding, her mind trying to piece together what she had just witnessed.
Nearby, the medic stood with an air of quiet resignation, his eyes closed in contemplation as he leaned against a stone wall. His posture suggested weariness, but there was no mistaking the sharpness in his gaze. "That wasn't just some fight," he muttered, his tone heavy with an unsettling calm. "That was a battle between two extraordinarily powerful beings, both contracted with a god. The divine one... I couldn't get a read on it, but the other... that was Evos, the God of Despair. A very dangerous god, known for several things—Despair, contracts, and destruction."
Celestia turned her head to look at him, brows furrowing as she absorbed the gravity of his words. "How do you know so much about them?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly.
The medic didn't flinch at her question. Instead, he let out a weary sigh, as if the weight of his knowledge had long since grown heavy. "Just some knowledge I picked up along the way," he said nonchalantly, though there was an edge to his words that suggested there was more to his history than he was willing to share. With that, he pushed off the wall, taking a few steps away from the group, his expression distant.
Rosaline, still quiet and contemplative, glanced over at him. Her face betrayed no emotion, yet there was something in the way she watched him—something guarded, as if she was trying to understand the depth of what had just transpired. She didn't speak, her mind clearly racing with thoughts too complex to voice in the moment. Without a word, she turned and began walking toward the exit of the square.
Tio and Celestia exchanged a brief glance, and without a single word, Tio and Celestia fell into step behind her, their movements deliberate but hesitant, as if they were unsure whether to process what had just happened or wait for some explanation that would make sense of it all. The streets around them were quiet now, the capital's usual hustle and bustle subdued by the strange, lingering atmosphere left in the wake of the battle.
As they walked, the medic's words echoed in Celestia's mind. Evos... God of Despair. Her stomach churned at the thought.
'I can't believe that just happened.' She thought to herself and sighed deeply.