Just beyond the wall of Kel'veth village, Nidalee watched the crow leap from Patches’ shoulder and soar through the air. It caught an updraft and spiraled up towards the rift and dove into the opening. The moment it touched the rift, it burst into flames and fell as a mass of charred feathers.

"The barrier is gone, and the signal sent," Patches said, his voice sounding sane for the first time in weeks.

The scent of rose petals blew over them, and something stirred in the corner of Nidalee's vision. A young girl appeared behind them, holding a wooden box. She had flowing dark hair and wore a pink dress that trailed to her bare feet.

"You did well, Calista," Patches said, turning to her. "Your clan will be proud."

Calista smiled at him, handing him the box. Patches pulled the lid open, revealing a still beating heart, and closed his eyes, inhaling deeply.

"With this, we will finally be free," he said, looking to the sky. "The darkness will lift, and the light will return to our lands."

Patches dismissed the girl, and she bowed and then vanished in a puff of butterflies. Nidalee stared at the place where she had just been standing until she saw Patches move. He drew a knife and pierced the heart, squeezing it tight until the blood began to pool in his palm. He dipped a finger into the crimson liquid and drew a symbol on the ground.

She shuddered at the dark magic she felt coming from him and stepped back. He repeated the motion and a second symbol appeared beside the first. This was no card magic, this was something else, something alien and horrific.

Malachi placed a hand on Nidalee's shoulder and leaned forward, speaking into her ear, "Leave while he is distracted," he whispered.

Nidalee glanced towards the rift and back at Patches, "Come with me," she said.

Malachi hesitated, "If I stop now, I'll lose everything. No, I have to finish what I started, or all the deaths will be for nothing."

"You'll still have me," Nidalee said, grabbing his hand and holding it tight.

Malachi smiled sadly, "You were never mine to begin with," he said. "Everything we had was an illusion."

"No," Nidalee said.

Malachi let go of her hand, "Go now, while there is still time. Please."

They turned back to look at Patches, who was drawing a circle of symbols around himself.

"You aren't like him," Nidalee argued. "Gothos or Patches or whatever he calls himself, he's not the man we once knew, he's evil."

Malachi watched his old master for a moment and then shook his head, "You don't understand," he replied. "He is doing what needs to be done, no matter the cost."

Nidalee couldn't believe that this was the way. She’d seen Patches do horrific things, he’d killed people and used their bodies to power these rifts.

"There has to be another way," she insisted, grabbing hold of his hand. "Tell me what you are trying to achieve, maybe I can help."

Malachi’s eyes met hers, and she could see the pain in them. He didn't enjoy what he was doing.

"This is the only way," he sighed, his voice full of resignation, "leave now, before they arrive."

"Who is coming?" Nidalee demanded.

Malachi glanced back at the rift, "Go," he urged.

Nidalee hesitated, "If you stay, then so will I," she said.

Malachi frowned at her, his eyes studying her own, "Why?" he asked, his eyes glistening.

Nidalee shrugged, the answer was simple, "Because you are all I have left," she said, looking down.

The couple stood there for a moment, both lost in what could have been. Nidalee wanted to reach out and touch Malachi, to tell him that she had loved him since she’d first seen him all those years ago in her village.

She stretched out a trembling hand towards his, and at that moment light flared from the rift, followed by a thunderous roar.

Malachi's face fell, and he turned to face her, "Take this," he said, handing her the dagger he'd been carrying.

"What's this for?" she asked.

"Protection," he replied, his gaze shifting to Patches.

Patches looked up at the sky, "They're coming," he announced. "It's time."

"Who's coming?" Nidalee asked again.

Malachi gave her a grim smile, "The overlords of our world."

***

I watched in horror as the crow burst into flames and fell from the sky like a shooting star. I followed it down with my eyes until it hit the ground a short distance from the village.

I shook my head, not understanding what I’d just seen. Someone was sobbing nearby and looked around, searching for the source. The great tree lay asunder, split down the middle and bleeding sap. Its prize was gone, taken by the strange demon girl, and the rift loomed like a gaping maw, ready to swallow us all. It had been one hell of a day.

Captain Zak’Sho stood in silence, tears streaming down his face, his axe still lodged deep in the trunk of the tree.

I stepped towards him, not sure if he was still under the enchantment or if his senses had returned to him.

As I approached he looked up, "What have I done?" he muttered. "I've failed my god."

I looked at the tree, the axe dripping red sap, and then back at the captain, "What are you talking about?"

The captain shook his head, "We were tasked with protecting Teon’s origin shrine," he replied, his voice heavy with sorrow. "I have failed, all that we fought for, died for, was for nothing."

His despair was obvious, this origin shrine must have been what was hiding inside the tree. The treasure the demon girl had taken. I had so many questions, but at that moment all I wanted to do was tell the captain that everything would be ok.

"The battle is not over yet," I said, looking up at the rift.

The words felt hollow. Most of the soldiers were dead, killed by their companions trapped in the enchantment. The whole purpose of the quest had been to protect the origin shrine hidden in the tree, and we had failed. Everything would not be ok. Patches had won once again.

The rift crackled with energy, sending sparks shooting through the air. My body tensed, knowing that something bad was coming.

"Captain look," I said, gesturing at the gaping wound in the sky.

A silhouette of a man appeared in the rift, and then five more appeared beside him. They seemed to stand on the edge of the rift, surveying the village like gods looking down on an anthill.

"Who are they?" I asked.

The first figure took a step over the edge and dropped from the rift. The five figures followed after, moving in unison. They landed in a cloud of dust just beyond the wall of Kel'veth.

Zak’Sho stiffened and let out a low growl, his hand gripping the haft of his axe tightly. "The enemy has come for the orb," he snarled. "We must protect it, even if it costs us our lives."

"What orb?" I asked, "is that what was inside the box?"

The captain wrenched his axe free from the trunk. "The shrine contains Teon’s heart. It is the only part of him that is still human, but it is not his heart that they were after, but what the Tower Guardian was tasked with protecting."

"This orb?" I asked.

The captain nodded, his eyes blazing with rage. "Are you with me, ground-dweller? Will you stand by my side and drive these demons back to whatever hell they came from?"

I didn't understand what was going on, but if this orb was what Patches was after, then I would do whatever it took to keep it from him. I looked at Zak’Sho, and the axe in his hands, and nodded.

"Good," he said, "let us meet our fate then."

***

My heart pounded in my chest as we approached the six towering figures. Patches stood among them, his own power a mirror of these new demons.

An aura of fear emanated from them all, its force sending waves of despair crashing into me. My knees buckled, and I struggled to stay upright. I fought to keep standing, digging my heels into the ground. Malachi and Nidalee were there as well, they looked just as terrified as I was.

I fumbled in my pocket and drew out the oracle glass, and with a trembling hand I held it to my eye. Without the lens, these new demons looked like giant men, their faces hidden by black helmets with skull-like visors. But what I saw through the oracle glass was something far worse. They had the forms of men, but their bodies were made of the same foul energy that powered the rifts. Their auras burned bright red, like hot coals, and they were all linked together by a single strand of light that ran through them.

The closest demon's stats came up on the oracle glass.

[Azgorth]

[Rank: Overlord]

[Class: Blightbringer]

[Attunement: Chaos]

The rest were similar, all overlords with equally sinister sounding attunements. Through the lens, the power radiating from them was so intense that my eyes hurt from looking at it. I lowered the oracle glass, trying to wrap my head around the situation.

What is happening?

Nidalee stepped forward, "Run!" she cried as she struggled to break free of Malachi's grip, but he held her firm.

It was then that I noticed the bloodied symbols etched into the surrounding ground.

The overlords didn't even bother looking at us. I felt like we were ants peering up at the boot that would soon crush us. They stood in a circle, their bodies connected by lines of blood. At the center of the circle was Patches, holding a beating heart in his hand.

Patches spoke a single word, and each overlord drew a knife and slit their wrist, letting the blood drip onto the ground. The symbols flared to life, glowing red, and the energy radiating from them was so intense that it nearly bowled me over.

"What have you done!" Zak’Sho roared, taking a step forward.

The demons ignored him, their attention focused on Patches. He squeezed the heart, causing blood to spill forth. He then dipped his fingers in the blood and began to draw a new symbol, joining the others.

"Stop!" the captain shouted.

He lifted his axe, ready to charge at the demons, but something slammed into the center of the circle, the force of it sending the captain and I tumbling back.

The blast sent up a cloud of dust, obscuring the demon overlords from view. The ringing in my ears was the only sound I could hear as I picked myself off the ground.

When I stood up, the world had changed. A dark mist hung over the land, obscuring everything beyond a few feet. The sky was crimson, and the sun hung like a red eye, glaring down at me.

Zak’Sho's face paled, and he fell to his knees. "It can't be," he breathed. "It's not possible."

A man now stood in the center of the circle. He was tall, and lean, his skin was tanned, and his hair was a stark silver color. He wore white robes and a necklace with an eye on it hung around his neck.

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I would recognize his face anywhere, I'd seen paintings and statues of him in temples and even inns, his name was revered by the people of the Tower.

"Teon," the captain breathed.

"You summoned the god of life? Are you mad?" Nidalee's voice cut through the silence, a note of pure panic in her tone.

"No," Patches growled. "Not a god. Just a man."

"I am Teon," the man said, his voice deep and commanding. "Release me from this circle."

Blood rose from the ground, weaving patterns in the air like tendrils. It snaked towards Teon, wrapping around his wrists and ankles. The god grimaced as his power was sapped by the blood magic.

"What is this foul magic," he hissed, his eyes blazing as he fought against the binding spell.

"I've been searching for you for a long time," Patches said, dropping the dripping heart. "But you've been hiding from us like a frightened child."

"You have found me," Teon growled, his voice growing deeper and more menacing. "I warn you, do not test my patience. Release me."

The blood gathered again, lashing out at Teon, and he let out a scream of agony as it wrapped around his throat. His eyes turned red, his veins bulged, and his skin began to turn a shade of gray.

"Do not resist," Patches said. "You are bound by your own heart."

"Demon magic," he gasped, his voice thick with desperation. "I'll kill you all!"

Teon moved faster than I could track, his hand shooting out and striking the circle of protection. Blood splattered against the invisible barrier and sizzled, smoke rising from the point of impact. Teon roared and struck the barrier again, his hand glowing with power.

"It can't hold him for long," Patches shouted.

All of a sudden, there was a flurry of movement.

The captain was on his feet now, his axe gripped in both hands. He swung his axe at an overlord's head, but the demon blocked the attack with its forearm. The axe glanced off the demon's flesh, and the demon backhanded the captain, sending him flying into the air.

I ran forward and tried to catch the captain, but I was too slow, and he hit the ground hard. He groaned and rolled over, spitting up a mouthful of blood.

"We can't let them get their hands on the orb," he said, desperation tingeing his voice.

The other demons sprang into action, their movements a blur as they engaged Teon.

One of the overlords stepped forward, and raised its hand, a ball of red energy forming in its palm.

Teon's eyes narrowed, and his arm shot out, his hand wrapping around the demon's wrist.

There was a flash of light, and the overlord screamed as its arm was torn off.

"Die, spawn of chaos!" Teon roared.

The overlords were powerful, but they were no match for the god of life.

They circled Teon, keeping their distance. Their hands glowed with dark power, and their eyes blazed with hatred. They moved in unison, like a pack of wolves circling their prey.

I watched the fight with morbid fascination, my eyes darting between the overlords and the god of life. This battle was out of my league and all I could do was watch.

Teon was a force of nature. His strikes were lightning fast, and his power seemed endless.

I could see the fear in the demons' eyes as they fought, and the realization hit me that if Patches could capture Teon's power, he would become invincible.

The demons moved in a blur, launching attacks from all directions.

Teon seemed unfazed, dodging their blows with ease and retaliating with his own devastating strikes. But I noticed the beads of sweat on his forehead, and that his movements were growing slower. The blood magic was sapping his strength at an incredible rate. His skin was turning translucent, his eyes were now dripping blood.

The battle was turning, and the demons sensed it.

They pressed their advantage, moving in closer, their strikes becoming more frantic.

Nidalee broke free from Malachi's grasp and fled, sprinting towards me. She grabbed my arm and pulled me to my feet.

"Run!" she shouted.

She tried to pull me away from the battleground, but I resisted, trying to break free of her grip.

"We have to help them," I said.

"It's too late for that," she snapped. "There is nothing we can do."

A deafening explosion rang out, and we both ducked as a beam of light shot out of Teon's palm and pierced one of the demon's chest. The demon clutched its chest, and it stumbled, before falling to the ground, unmoving.

I looked back and saw that the captain had joined the fray, his axe swinging wildly as he tried to take down a demon.

"No, I can't leave the captain," I shouted.

Nidalee turned, and her eyes widened, as a demon swung its sword, aiming for the captain's throat. The captain spun and parried the strike, deflecting it away from his neck, but a second blade sliced through his side.

I pushed Nidalee aside and rushed forward, drawing my dagger. I was too late. Zak'Sho slumped to the ground, his eyes wide open.

"No!" I screamed.

I held the bleeding captain in my arms, feeling his heart slowing.

"This is how I die," he said, a hint of awe in his voice. "But at least I die with honor."

"Come on, it's not over yet," I pleaded, holding my hand over his wound, trying to stem the flow of blood.

His gaze grew distant, and his breath was shallow, but his lips curled into a faint smile, "You... are a good man."

His hand fell limp, and his eyes closed.

I held the motionless body of the captain, a wave of sorrow washing over me.

I looked up and saw Patches, up until then he hadn't joined the battle, but now he pressed his hands to the earth and a demonic hand sprang up and reached for Teon.

I knew that spell. I had been locked in its hold when Patches had killed Evelyn.

Teon cried out, struggling against the grip of the demonic hand. More bonds sprung up, binding his legs and arms. He tore them apart with a flash of golden light, but more rose up in their place.

The demons moved as one, and their blades swung in a synchronized attack.

I didn't think, I just reacted. I popped my [Etherix] feeling a surge of energy course through me and lunged forward throwing myself in front of the god. My dagger was a blur, and I parried two of the blows, my arms ringing with the impacts.

A blade caught me in the shoulder, and I screamed as the cold steel bit into my flesh. Another cut along my thigh, and I felt hot blood pouring down my leg.

A demon aimed his sword at my chest, but at the moment of impact I cast [Shroud Form] and the blade passed harmlessly through me. I heard a cry behind me, and I spun around to see that the sword meant for me was now protruding from Teon's gut. He looked down at the blade, his face a mask of confusion.

My spells' duration ended and as the shadows receded from me, I dodged a swing from a demon, and rolled to the side, my eyes scanning the battlefield.

My stomach lurched as I saw the captain's body lying in the dirt, blood pooling beneath him. Nidalee crouched beside him, her hand pressed against his neck, her face pale and drawn. She looked at me, her eyes filled with pain and anguish.

"Don't let them get the orb," the captain's voice echoed in my head.

An overwhelming hatred burned in my chest, and I cast [Bone Spikes] and a circle of bones shot up from under the ground. It knocked up the nearest demon and as it rose into the air I released [Toxic Barrage] the spell exploding into the demon's chest.

The demon let out a roar, its skin bubbling and smoking, and it fell to the ground, writhing in pain.

"That's one," I growled, the bloodlust coursing through me.

A sword slashed across my back, and I screamed, feeling warm blood gushing from the wound. I tried to focus, to keep my eyes open, but my vision was growing dark.

I remained on my feet, my dagger clenched in my hand, as the demon generals circled me like sharks, their blades poised to strike.

"You can't win," Patches said, his voice mocking. "This isn't your fight, boy."

My body ached, and my mind was clouded with pain, but I held on to the image of the captain, his face etched in my memory.

"No, it isn't," I said. "But it was his."

I lunged at Patches, my dagger leading the way. The last time I had attacked him, he had deflected my strike with ease, but this time his eyes went wide, and he scrambled back, barely managing to evade the strike.

The blade missed him by a hair's breadth, and I was rewarded with a look of pure fear on his face.

The demons' blades slashed at me, but I used my trump card, summoning [Rootbound Bison] and the beast appeared beneath me, lifting me out of the reach of their swords. Its vines lashed out, wrapping around a demon, and it dragged him towards its horns.

Its head lowered, and the horns pierced the demon's chest, lifting it into the air.

My strength was dwindling fast, and my mind was reeling, but I knew I had to finish this quickly, before I was overwhelmed.

A blast of power hit the bison, and it burst into flames. I hit the ground hard, and I rolled to my feet, my hand clutching my bloody side as the bison roared in agony.

"You can't win," Patches hissed.

I was panting now, barely able to stand, my legs trembling. I dismissed the summoned creature, ending its suffering.

"You're right," I gasped. "But I don't need to win. I just need to buy some time."

I glanced over my shoulder, and saw Teon's body glowing with golden light. His wounds were healing, and his skin was regaining its color.

"I grow weary of this," he said, his voice thick with power.

He was the god of life after all, even with his power drained, he was still the best healer in the Tower.

I turned my attention back to Patches and the demons. They were all focused on the god, their eyes filled with terror.

Teon surged to his feet, the ground shaking with his movements. He raised a hand, and a beam of light shot from the heaven's carving a path of destruction across the earth. The beam struck the nearest demon, and it crumbled to dust.

Another fell to his knees, his sword clattering to the ground.

Another took his place.

I felt a surge of hope, and then a crushing pain in my chest. I looked down and saw the hilt of a demon's blade protruding from my chest.

I fell to the ground, gasping for breath.

Nidalee’s screams echoed in my ears. I coughed, blood dribbling from my mouth.

Teon's hand came down, and he crushed a demon under his fist.

The god's gaze fell on me, his eyes filled with regret.

"I'm sorry, mortal," he whispered.

He stretched out his hand towards me and golden wisps enveloped me and the captain, bathing us in healing light.

I opened my mouth to shout a warning, but I was too late. Patches' hands were raised and glowing an ominous scarlet.

"Now, Malachi," he commanded.

Malachi, his face pale and his eyes dark, drew a sword and lunged at the god's back. The red light struck the god at the same moment the sword pierced his flesh, and he stumbled back, a look of utter disbelief crossed his face.

Time seemed to slow, and I watched as the sword was pulled free. Patches strode up to the kneeling god and tore the amulet from his neck, a savage smile on his face.

"You don't know what you have done?" Teon breathed.

Patches smiled, "Oh, but I do," he said.

He drew a curved knife from his belt and pressed it against the god's throat.

"Your time is at an end," he said, as he slid the blade across the god's throat.

***

Nidalee rolled me over, her hand pressing against my chest. I saw a deep cut across her chest and blood running down her face.

"Hold on," she said, her voice shaking.

My vision was growing darker, and my body felt cold and numb. The wound in my chest was half healed, Teon's spell ending the moment he was stabbed.

"The orb," I gasped.

"Gone," she said. "They are all gone."

I fought to stay alive, I knew I had to hold on, I couldn't have another person I loved killed in my place. But it was too late. My mind was fading, and my heart was slowing.

In the distance, I heard someone calling my name.

Nidalee was shaking my body, trying to keep me awake.

"Just a bit longer," I thought.

At the moment when I thought I couldn't hold on any longer, I heard the sound of running feet drawing nearer.

I strained to keep my eyes open. Nidalee lay by my side, her breathing shallow.

"Hang in there, we are almost there," I heard a voice shout.

I felt a familiar presence and the darkness around me lit up with a warm glow.

"Don't you die on me," a familiar voice said.

I opened my eyes to find myself looking at the only face that could ever offer me comfort.

"Elia," I said, my voice a whisper.

"I'm here," she said, a sad smile on her lips.

She knelt next to me, her blue eyes glistening with tears, she took in my blood soaked clothing, the wounds on my body.

"No," she said.

"I'm fine," I lied.

She reached out and took my hand in hers, her skin warm and soft.

"No, you're not," she said.

Her fingers brushed against the hilt of the blade that still protruded from my chest.

"I have to pull it out before I can heal you," she said.

I nodded, knowing it was the only way.

"On the count of three," she said.

She wrapped her small hands around the hilt, and I braced myself.

"One."

I gritted my teeth, waiting for the pain.

"Two."

I could feel the cold metal pressing against my skin, and I took a deep breath.

"Three."

The blade slid free, and I cried out, my body shuddering.

Eliaria's hands glowed, and I felt the warmth of her magic coursing through me, healing my wounds.

"What happened?" she asked.

I shook my head, my vision still blurred.

"How's Nidalee and the captain?" I asked, trying to lift my head.

I was vaguely aware that other people were arriving, their voices filling the air.

"They're going to make it," she said. "But they need rest."

"And Teon?"

She looked at me, confusion plain on her face.

"What are you talking about?" she asked.

I gestured weakly towards the crumpled figure on the ground.

"You have to help him," I said, "he saved our lives."

She looked in the direction I pointed, and her face paled.

"That's..." her voice trailed off, and she turned back to me.

"It can't be," she said, shaking her head.

"It's him," I said, my voice growing weaker. "Help him, please."

"It's too late," she said. "He's dead."

I looked at Eliaria, and saw the horror in her eyes. The god she had worshiped all her life, lay lifeless before us, his sacrifice echoing in the stillness of the battlefield.

Golden text flooded my vision and I heard voices crying out in alarm as the message was delivered to every person in the Tower.

[Teon, Champion of the Tower, has Fallen]

"No," I breathed.

The god, who had sacrificed himself to save me, was gone.

I couldn't tell if it was my imagination or not, but the sky seemed darker, and the wind colder. I felt a sense of dread wash over me, and I knew that something terrible had just happened.

Flint stepped into view, his forehead bandaged and leaning on his staff. He was flanked by a group of ven'thik, and he wore a grim expression on his face.

He pointed at the sky, and I followed his gaze.

I looked up, and saw a cloud of black smoke rolling across the horizon, blotting out the sun. Crows circled high above, their mad calls filling the air.

"What is that?" Eliaria asked.

"The end," I replied.

As the words left my mouth, a bolt of lightning split the sky, and thunder boomed. We stood on the edge of the abyss, and the darkness was coming.

***