A man’s face pushed through, and Lindon could make out clear features of his face. This spirit was at least as dense as Little Blue or Ruby, with a similar level of existence. He looked like Eithan’s older brother, with short hair and a short beard, and a deeper light crackled in his eyes.
When he emerged, spiritual pressure pushed down on all of them. Even Reigan Shen flinched briefly at the tension in the air.
This was a Monarch without months of hunger aura eroding his spirit. A true Monarch’s Remnant.
As its gaze landed on Eithan, Lindon saw a golden collar encircling the Remnant’s throat. Runes on the gold blazed with power.
“Eithan,” the Remnant said, with a voice like buzzing lightning. “You survived. I am sorry.”
Pure grief was not an expression Lindon had expected from Eithan. “Shen…was our grudge really this deep, for you to do this?”
Tiberian’s lightning eyes turned to Reigan Shen, and he tried to duck back into the portal.
“Kill!” Reigan Shen commanded.
There was a clash of authority so intense that Lindon could feel it, as a weakened Monarch pitted its will against the Remnant of another. The collar flared, and he knew it would turn the competition in Shen’s favor.
This was Lindon’s chance.
With the last of his will, he issued the same command one final time: “Open.”
Reigan Shen’s concentration was entirely focused on Tiberian’s Remnant, and this time the portal around Tiberian expanded more rapidly. It pushed against the labyrinth, clashing against the authority that prevented spatial transportation until Lindon could hear the two forces groaning against one another.
But the labyrinth’s rule was endless. Reigan Shen’s authority was not.
With a snap, the portal’s structure collapsed.
The lightning Remnant smiled faintly as he let himself fade back into the void space. Shen tried to force the space back open, but the connection between himself and his weapons was now broken. It would take time to repair.
His golden eyes blazed with rage, and though Lindon felt like he would pass out at any second, he gave a smile.
“Apologies,” Lindon said.
The Monarch was not amused. Lindon only wished there were something they could do with this opportunity. Reigan Shen couldn’t recover his power either, and now he was cut off from his supply of weapons. This was the most mortal they could get him, and he had to be as low on madra and soulfire as they were.
But Eithan was just laughing weakly as he swayed on his feet, his armor still dissolving and scissors held in a trembling hand. His spirit felt like it would be extinguished by a passing breeze.
Ziel had lost consciousness at some point, and the burns across the left half of his body were still smoking. Mercy was conscious, and contained inside a cocoon of Strings of Shadow, but nothing she could do would defend her from even a casual attack of Reigan Shen’s.
Yerin had gathered enough strength, and she rolled away from Lindon to rise up on one knee. Her arm was strong as she swung her sword up, and he was certain she could trade an attack or two with Reigan Shen. But not for long.
Lindon himself was down an arm, he could barely see straight after over-using his authority, and his pure core was mostly empty. His Blackflame madra was actually in decent supply, but his soulfire was completely gone.
He was out of cards.
But Dross wasn’t.
[I have made contact,] Dross said at last. [Beware.]
The attention of the labyrinth must have been watching them already, but now Lindon felt it focus on them. On Dross.
Then it swiveled to Reigan Shen.
He casually swiped an orange Striker technique at Yerin, who struggled against it. While she was pushing back his madra, he looked up and shouted.
“You see? I can grant your wish!” Reigan Shen roared. “Bring me to you!”
Lindon felt a moment of consideration. And then a sudden, overwhelming hunger.
The walls blurred, and then there was an opening in the center of the floor. A pit that went deep.
He remembered the impressions he’d gotten from the broken map Ozriel had left behind. Subject One waited in a deep chamber at the center of the labyrinth.
Lindon didn’t know if this tunnel led all the way there, but it was certainly the right direction.
Reigan Shen laughed and strolled over to the lip of the hole, sheathing his sword as he walked. “Don’t worry, humans. Tiberian will rest in peace.”
He paused and looked to Eithan. “Because I will fulfill his dream.”
Then he dropped into the abyss.
The floor immediately shifted and closed up around him, the entrance vanishing. Ozriel’s workshop was now left with the sounds of failure: groans, harsh breathing, the slosh of water, and the distant hiss of madra dissolving into essence.
But Lindon didn’t feel ashamed. He was filled with relief.
They had made it out alive.
He was doubly grateful he had thought to hide Orthos and Little Blue. A glancing blow from that battle would have killed them; he would have been worried about their safety even if they were only exposed to the pressure from Tiberian’s Remnant.
[Vermin!] Dross cried. [He flees from us like a coward, little knowing that we may bide our time and seek revenge.]
Yerin shot him a strange look, suggesting she’d heard him.
“Dross?” Lindon asked aloud.
[It is I, the mighty Dross! I have shed my weak former self, emerging from that chrysalis as a spirit with no rival!]
Eithan groaned and sat down. “Oh no.”
“Dross, what happened? Why did you…change?”
Dross spun out into the real world, and now he wore a tiny, spiked black crown on his head. [I needed to reach beyond myself, for greater power, but I was pathetic and small. So I became a spirit of true power!]
Dross’ boneless arms curled into fists and shook at the sky.
A knot formed in Lindon’s stomach. If Dross had been forced to his limit and decided to change himself, he may have done irreparable damage to his own structure.
“So this is what true power sounds like, is it?” Yerin asked. She sounded weary but amused, like this was one of Dross’ usual jokes.
Eithan traded looks with Lindon. He understood.
[Every word I speak is the word of supreme dominance! Have you ever heard of a spirit that could converse with the Dread Labyrinth itself?]
Lindon gingerly extended his perception into the point of his spirit that anchored his connection to Dross. Sure enough, the structure of Dross’ spirit was twisted differently. Dross had bent himself into a new shape, and his spirit, body, and mind were one.
“Pardon, Dross, but I’m afraid your new form might be too…intimidating for me. Could you change back?” Lindon tried to stifle his own dread and hope so that Dross didn’t feel them.
Dross eyed him coldly. [Evolution, once made, cannot be reversed. And why would I wish to return to inferiority?]
Lindon sank to the ground. Yerin grabbed him and looked into his eyes.
“Is he…” she didn’t finish the question.
Lindon shook his head, and she crushed him in an embrace.
“It’s not him,” Lindon whispered. “And even if I were twice the Soulsmith, I don’t know if I could do anything about it.”
The longer the changes lasted, the more they would become the true Dross. He didn’t know Dross’ exact structure, and even if he did, he wouldn’t have the time to change him back.