"My restless conscience stirred my emotions like a hurricane, defying the balance I thought I had achieved. Whispered words that contradicted my own hinted at an end I could no longer ignore."
Salomon's cry thundered through the dark tunnels, echoing off moss-covered, damp walls.
— SANATHIEL!
His voice split the air, calling to both the living and the shadows lurking beyond.
The beasts surged toward him like a misshapen tide, moving with unnerving speed. Their eyes glowed with inhuman ferocity, locked onto their target. Yet Salomon remained still, posture unyielding — a rock before the storm.
— Quickly, they're coming! —Nikolai shouted, ordering his team into a defensive position.
Aisha, clutching Sanathiel tightly, looked at Salomon with a mix of fear and hope.
— What are you doing? —she asked, her voice a trembling whisper.
— What I should have done a long time ago, —Salomon replied, his tone deep and unflinching.
He advanced slowly, his body radiating a contained energy on the verge of eruption.
— Aisha…
When his steps ceased, a crack echoed from within. His muscles expanded, bones shifting. In mere seconds, his human form vanished, replaced by a colossal beast of dark fur and gleaming fangs.
With a deafening roar, he lunged at the artificial creatures, tearing through flesh with unrelenting fury. But instead of retreating, the beasts grew more violent, their howls merging with the clamor of battle, closing the distance.
Aisha, with eyes fixed on battle, felt blood stain her blade as she fought to keep Sanathiel safe. Her body trembled — not from fear, but from a resolve forged by her bond with him.
— No one touches my companion, —Sanathiel declared, eyes fixed on Aisha, fully grasping the situation.
Ignoring Nikolai's warnings, the white wolf rose, staggering. Fury surged through him at the sight of the beasts closing in on Aisha. With each step, strength renewed within him, and the Nevri blocking his path were tossed aside like rag dolls.
From afar, Salomon narrowed his eyes. For a fleeting moment, the battle ceased to exist. In Aisha's movements — her defiance, her fire — he saw echoes of Zaira. Something within him cracked. Rage gave way to something far more dangerous: doubt.
— Interesting… a female Nevri among us, capable of choosing the alpha of the pack, —he murmured to himself.
Aisha's stance, firm and defiant, spoke volumes. Still in his black wolf form, Salomon paused to study her, watching her dodge the creatures' attacks with precise movements and strike back with relentless determination, despite her exhaustion.
Sweat on his red face; the intensity in her gaze stirred buried memories.
"Zaira..."
The name escaped him in a whisper, as the image of the woman he once protected surfaced. Doubt flickered in his eyes, fracturing his mask of control.
Meanwhile, in a shadowed corner of the labyrinth, Nikolai struggled to stay composed.
— Damn it! Where are the Snova brothers when you really need them? —he growled, firing at an onrushing creature.
In the distance, he saw Salomon and Sanathiel locked in combat, surrounded by light-brown-furred beasts spilling from every crack and shadow. With renewed strength, Sanathiel shattered jaws one by one, using his body as a shield to clear a path.
— White Wolf! —Salomon's voice boomed, calling from the far end of the tunnel.
Sanathiel turned, eyes blazing with rage and defiance.
— I challenge you, Salomon! And the lunar medallion shall be the rightful prize for the victor.
Salomon narrowed his gaze, assessing him carefully. He knew accepting the duel wasn't about honor — it was a sentence.
— Who says I'll accept, —he replied wryly, stripping off the upper half of his clothing to reveal battle-worn scars.— Let's stick to the old rules, White Wolf.
Both shed their upper garments, never breaking eye contact. A few paces away, Aisha watched, caught between fear and uncertainty. Salomon's words carried an ominous double meaning, and his glance toward her was a chilling reminder of her fragile position.
— Nothing must interrupt this duel, —Sanathiel growled, charging forward.
— You're as predictable as ever — same habits, same stubbornness. That's why your folly dragged our entire Nevri village down with you, —Salomon replied, nimbly evading the attack.
With a subtle gesture, the Nevri closed ranks, forming an impenetrable barrier.
— A better deal: the medallion… and that woman, —Salomon added coolly.
— No. She's not part of the past we share. Impossible. I refuse. It will be just you and me, Salomon. —Sanathiel answered firmly.
Salomon held his gaze, weighing every word before speaking.
"He is not your enemy, Salomon…"
The voice was clear. Not from the tunnel, nor the air. From the past. Zaira.
— Fine. Let her go, —he ordered at last, raising his hand deliberately.
The Nevri complied, pulling Aisha away from the center of the fight — but they did not allow her to retrieve her sword, leaving her defenseless.
Aisha, heart pounding, whispered with resolve:
"GO, AISHA."
— I will return to the White Wolf.
The duel was savage — a dance of strength and speed that made the tunnel walls tremble. Sanathiel attacked with the fury of a wounded wolf, each blow an act of sheer will. Yet Salomon, older and more cunning, did not merely withstand him; every movement was a calculated strike, a precise cut that slowly wore the White Wolf down.
Leaps. Spins. Fangs skimming throats by mere inches. Their bodies collided with bone-jarring force. For a moment, it seemed Sanathiel's raw power might prevail. But then, with a swift twist, Salomon caught his claw mid-air, wrenched his arm, and hurled him against the wall with brutal force.
The impact echoed through the tunnel. The Nevri formation broke — not from fear, but from respect. They stepped aside to witness the fight.
As the White Wolf rose with a trembling growl, his eyes burned with more than rage — they held pain, fury... and love.
In the distance, Aisha forced herself to retreat. One last glance, terror tightening her chest.
"If he dies… how could I bear it?"
Her voice cracked but rang out clear:
— Don't die, Sanathiel!
Panic clawed at her heart, but she crushed it with sheer will. Now was not the time to falter. Despite the unrelenting pain wracking her body, she pushed herself forward.
Without looking back, she plunged into the dark corridors, her focus narrowed to a single purpose: finding Ishana.
Then— hands pinned her against the wall, an arm pressing her throat, tilting her head back, making speech difficult.
She reached for a dagger in her pocket— when a voice spoke:
— I mean you no harm, sister of my master Falco.
Suddenly, a blinding flash burst from the tunnel's far end — a bomb of searing white light. Both were forced to duck, shielding each other instinctively.
And as he watched her vanish into the shadows, Sanathiel grasped a fear far worse than death itself:
Losing her again.
Meanwhile, Nikolai advanced through the tunnels, gunshots echoing around him.
— Skiller! For fuck's sake, tell me you're here! —he shouted as another explosion lit the distance.
Through the smoke, Skiller Snova emerged, bloodied and eyes blazing, scythe-shaped sword slicing through the enemy.
— Velona! Don't stop! Go after Dimitri and Ishana! —Skiller bellowed, shielding Nikolai's retreat.
Nikolai nodded, darting into a side passage. There, he found Ishana and Dimitri Snova — both in dire condition. Before he could react, Aisha and Steven appeared behind him.
— You've got to be kidding me. You two? —Nikolai said, stunned.
Steven, with a crooked smile, glanced at Aisha.
— Tunnels are full of surprises, Velona. But now— let's get out of here alive.
With tension thick in the air and the beasts still on the prowl, the group knew:
the real battle had only just begun.