Cyrus eyed the massive altar, its golden surface gleaming even in the dim light of the hidden chamber. A nervous chuckle escaped his lips as he turned to Neno. "You don't expect us to carry this behemoth on our backs, do you?" he asked, his attempt at humor barely masking the anxiety churning in his gut.
Neno shook his head, a ghost of a smile flickering across his weary features. "No, no... we just need the disk," he explained, reaching for the altar's upper section. With surprising dexterity, he detached a golden disk adorned with three triangular arches etched into its surface.
As Cyrus took the disk from Neno, he felt a jolt of electricity course through his veins. His hands trembled, not from the weight of the object, but from the weight of possibility it represented. This small artifact could be the key to changing everything—to saving countless lives and perhaps even the world itself. Yet, a nagging doubt gnawed at the edges of his newfound hope. "What if it fails?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper. The thought of having his hopes dashed against the cruel rocks of reality was almost too much to bear.
Neno's sigh was heavy with the burden of their desperate gambit. "Then I guess we'll all be buried with these buildings," he replied, his tone conveying the slim odds of their success. But slim odds were better than none at all, and in that moment, it was enough to propel them forward.
As they stepped out of the altar chamber and into the main library, a chillingly familiar figure materialized before them. Nemesis stood tall, his surprise at seeing Cyrus alive evident in the slight widening of his eyes. "You're still alive," he remarked, his voice dripping with a mixture of annoyance.
Cyrus met his gaze unflinchingly. "You should have cut off my head instead," he retorted, a newfound defiance burning in his chest.
A cruel smile twisted Nemesis' lips as he unsheathed his blade with practiced ease. "No problem. I'll remedy that now."
In that moment of suspended tension, Neno's voice cut through the air, trembling but resolute. "I'll slow him down. Go!" he urged Cyrus. But the thought of abandoning his friend, of fleeing in the face of danger once again, made Cyrus' stomach turn. "I can't leave you alone," he protested, even as his instincts screamed at him to run.
Nemesis, seizing the opportunity presented by their hesitation, lunged forward with inhuman speed. "Then die," he snarled, his blade cleaving through the air with lethal precision. Neno, moving with a swiftness born of desperation, shoved Cyrus to the side and raised his elbow in a futile attempt at defense. The sickening sound of tearing flesh filled the air as Neno's body was sent hurtling into a nearby bookshelf, wood splintering under the force of the impact.
"You're pretty tough," Nemesis remarked, shaking his hand as if to dispel a momentary dizziness. Neno, sprawled amidst the wreckage of knowledge, found the strength to yell once more: "Run!"
With gritted teeth and a heart heavy with guilt, Cyrus forced himself to turn and sprint from the library. The corridors of the villa became a blur as he ran, his breath coming in ragged gasps. But his flight was short-lived as two figures burst through a wall ahead, blocking his path in a shower of debris and dust.
Nemesis had unleashed the full extent of his magical prowess, dark energy coalescing around him to form an ominous, writhing armor. Opposite him stood Neno, transformed into a being of mythic proportions. His face had taken on bestial features, canine yet feline, with a mane of golden hair that danced in the chaos of their battle. A long, golden tail lashed behind him, and his skin shimmered with an otherworldly light. His legs, powerful and lionesque, tensed as he prepared to face his opponent.
This, Cyrus realized with awe, was the primordial form in all its terrible glory.
Nemesis, momentarily taken aback by the transformation, quickly regained his composure. He clung to the walls like some nightmarish spider, his voice tinged with a mixture of excitement and frustration. "I see magic has no effect against you. Let's see if you're immune to sharpness!" With that, he gripped his blade between his teeth and launched himself into the air, spinning like a deadly tornado of steel and malice.
The clash of the two titans sent shockwaves through the villa, walls crumbling as they careened out into the open air. Cyrus, peering through a shattered window, felt his heart sink as he saw blood blossoming across Neno's chest. Nemesis, ever the tactician, had quickly discerned the limitations of the primordial form and adapted his strategy accordingly.
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"The more he wounds you, the stronger he'll get!" Cyrus shouted, his voice hoarse with desperation. "Try to swarm him with weaker opponents!"
Neno's eyes flickered with understanding. In a display of power that defied comprehension, strands of his golden hair detached, each transforming into a shadow clone of himself. The army of Nenos surged towards Nemesis in an endless, golden tide.
Nemesis, for his part, moved with preternatural grace, dancing and sliding through the forest of clones. His blade flashed in the moonlight, dispelling each shadow with surgical precision. But for every clone he destroyed, two more seemed to take its place.
Recognizing that he could offer no further aid in this titanic struggle, Cyrus steeled himself and resumed his desperate dash towards the Hall of Justice. Behind him, he could hear the ongoing battle, the sounds of magic and steel clashing in a cacophony of destruction.
As he ran, Cyrus was confronted with the grim reality of Lionore's betrayal. The corridors were littered with bodies—Bite elders and children alike, cut down without mercy or discrimination. His fists clenched in rage, but he forced himself to press on. There would be time for mourning later, if they survived this nightmare.
The imposing figure of the lion atop the Hall of Justice came into view, a beacon of hope in the chaos. Standing before it, as if he had been waiting for this very moment, was the Prophet. Cyrus felt a surge of relief, knowing that safety—and perhaps answers—lay just ahead.
But fate, it seemed, had other plans. In a blur of motion, Nemesis and Neno clashed once more. Using the impact as momentum, Nemesis spun through the air, landing with cat-like grace between Cyrus and his goal. Neno flashed into existence before Cyrus, a living shield against the relentless onslaught.
Both combatants were covered in wounds, but the toll of battle was evident in their bearing. Nemesis, hardened by countless conflicts, seemed to shrug off his injuries as mere inconveniences. Neno, by contrast, was breathing heavily, his lack of combat experience showing despite the awesome power of his transformed state.
Nemesis' voice cut through the night air, laden with malicious intent. "Time for you to die. It's even better here—I want all of them to see how your head falls, so they understand they have no way out." Dark magic erupted from his form, hurtling towards Neno with deadly purpose.
Neno responded in kind, his own golden energy surging forth as he charged to meet the attack. For a moment, it seemed as though Neno's power would prevail, pushing back against Nemesis' dark aura. But then, in a twist that sent shockwaves of disbelief through Cyrus, everything changed.
Nemesis' mask shattered, revealing a face that was at once familiar . Strands of gold wove through his hair, and his aura shifted from darkness to a pure, radiant gold. The two figures collided in a blinding flash of energy. When the light faded, the outcome was clear—and devastating.
Neno's palm had ripped into Nemesis' left side, but the victory was pyrrhic. Nemesis' blade had found its mark, piercing Neno's heart with unerring precision.
"Neno!" Cyrus cried out, his voice raw with anguish. But before he could reach his friend, Nemesis lashed out with a vicious kick, sending Neno's broken form crashing into Cyrus.
As they lay there, Cyrus cradled his dying friend, tears streaming down his face. Neno's features had reverted to normal, the awesome power of the primordial form evaporating like mist in the morning sun. All that remained was the bloody visage of a friend who had given everything in the name of hope.
"I'm sorry, Cyrus," Neno wheezed, his voice barely audible. "I couldn't stop him."
"Not you, Neno," Cyrus sobbed, the weight of loss crushing down upon him. "Not you."
Neno's eyes, already growing dim, fixed upon the moon hanging high above them. In a moment of vulnerability that cut Cyrus to his core, Neno asked the question that had haunted him for so long: "Was I courageous?"
The query struck Cyrus like a physical blow. He remembered Neno's lifelong struggle with his powers, the fear that had held him back since that fateful incident in his youth. Now, on the threshold between life and death, Neno sought the validation he had always craved.
"Yes," Cyrus affirmed, his voice thick with emotion. "You were."
A peaceful smile graced Neno's lips, a stark contrast to the carnage surrounding them. "I'm happy then," he whispered. "Goodbye... my friend..." With those final words, Neno's eyes closed for the last time, his body growing still in Cyrus' arms.
A darkness deeper than the night itself seemed to descend upon Cyrus as he gently laid his friend's body on the ground. Slowly, he turned to face Nemesis, rage and grief twisting his features into a mask of pure hatred. "Nemesis!" he roared, spittle flying from his mouth as he prepared to hurl himself at his friend's murderer, consequences be damned.
But the figure before him held up a hand, a sardonic smile playing across his lips. "Not Nemesis," he said, tossing aside the last remnants of his mask with casual disdain. "I thought I'd never get rid of it."
As the full features of his opponent were revealed, Cyrus felt the world tilt beneath his feet. The face that stared back at him was hauntingly familiar, softened by strands of golden hair that seemed to glow in the moonlight. With a languid motion, the man before him drew an arc on the ground with the tip of his blade, using Neno's blood as a macabre paint.
"Liam sounds better," he declared, his smile never wavering.
Cyrus blinked, unable to process the revelation before him.