The first thing that tipped off Aranea was that the lights were out. This hangar should have always been under constant surveillance, fully lit, and guarded by the automatic systems. But now, as they were falling into the darkness, no light was visible.

She saw King, his mighty pale form, landing past the walkways, directly on top of the massive shadow that was the demolition cannon. The thing was massive, easily bigger and longer than any skyscraper Aranea had ever seen, almost matching the length of King's ancient war machine during the battle for Chokepoint A. It had not one, but four barrels, each big enough to fit several battle tanks in, ready to spew out dimensional energies capable of ravaging anything in their path.

The demolition cannon was mounted on the massive platform, four columns and countless cords joined the thousands of steel tons above with the platform below. Right now the cannon is in a horizontal position, but according to the historical documents, it was meant to be pointed upward. The advanced tracking systems in the satellites of the Old World allowed this weapon to fire at almost any place in the system, provided that the planet was in the correct position.

King’s landing caused no dent in the countless tons of armored metal of this ancient weapon. The alloy that scientists of old had used in the creation of this mighty engine of destruction was not that unsimilar to the one used in the creation of long-disabled spaceships, making this weapon almost impervious to all natural damage. Keyl landed next, groaning in pain when King fired a kinetic ball at the knight captain.

Keyl endured this assault, moving backward, his cape tearing off his pauldrons, trails of sparks produced by the friction accompanied the impact that sent him sliding backwards. The knight captain has survived the kinetic attack and lunged forward, bringing the weapon to King's snout.

His foe raised the right hand, far faster than Aranea remembered him moving during the battle for Belaz. Countless bone ridges grew out of his palm, catching the sword between them.

"Bow to us." King said arrogantly, bringing his knee against Keyl’s breastplate.

The chest plate broke, forcing the ice fang to lean forward, gasping for air. He never managed to make a gasp, a casual elbow hit in the back of his head sent him facedown.

No. Aranea stopped the scream in her mouth. Calm, only calm rage. She landed, finally, and aimed the rail gun at King’s face. His left arm extended, turning into a tendril and sliding in a blurred motion across the steel surface before wrapping around her weapon. King yanked the weapon out of her paw, throwing it next to Keyl and smiling contemptuously into her face. She reached for a flashbang on her belt, throwing it into his face. The being closed his eyes against the blinding light, and in this moment, she was on him, bringing the blade against his neck.

"Twice you have injured us, puppet," His voice spoke behind her. King’s body, his smell, everything that he was simply disappeared before Aranea, leaving just his hissing blood on her blade. The warlord felt him standing behind her and turned around, attempting to slice him in two, when his palm crushed into her back, piercing the armor and allowing claws to tear holes in her flesh, "We had enough trouble from you for a lifetime!"

The hand carried Aranea in the arc above King, slamming her down with the force of an explosion. The moment she had collided with the metal, her body bounced off of it like a balloon, carrying her a little away from her foe. Pain speared her entire being, the force behind King’s throw had shattered the majority of her power armor, leaving a single lens dangling over her crimson eye. She felt the sword slip from her paw as she struggled to stand, falling to the ground with her vambraces and pauldrons.

I am… Not… Done. Aranea let out her claws, and King pointed at the walkway running above her. A single ball of kinetic energy left his clawed finger, bringing down a torrent of steel on her, causing the half-breed to scream in agony as her bones crushed under the massive weight.

"That’s it. Lay down and watch. It will be fitting that you, of all people, will see the beginning of our glorious new era." King told her, walking across toward a small, square shaped hatch in the cannon. She saw a thin cut on his neck, too narrow to be of any danger. In under a second, the cut healed before her very eyes.

King sighed, grabbing a handle and pulling a terminal from the cannon. Still smiling, his clawed hands typed something on the keyboard. The smile soon turned into a frown after seeing ‘Access Denied’ flashing on the display above the terminal. The mutant tore into his own chest with both clawed hands, tearing the flesh and bones. His smile twitched from pain but soon shifted into a triumphal grin as he pulled a black, rectangular box along with his heart, filling the air with the acidic smell of his own blood.

Unbothered by the gruesome sight of the damage, King pushed the heart back, letting his flesh close. The mutant waited until the blood on the box stopped hissing and connected the terminal to the box via a cord. He typed something again, slamming his palms against the keyboard, shattering it fully.

"S…Sucker…" Aranea had managed to say, "It’s encrypted," Despite the broken bones and the steel pile on top of her that threatened to break her spine, Aranea smiled into his enraged face, blood dripping from the corners of her mouth, "Sealed away. By the Reclaimers. Iterna. And Oathtakers. Not even his excellency can activate it. You came all this way for naught."

"Only a fool relies on a single solution," King crushed the black box beneath his foot, "And we are neither fools. We won."

"Won?"

"Oh yes," King eagerly nodded, "All our lives, Grug and I felt the yoke of a chokehold on our necks. All our lives, we suffered… Well, Grug had suffered long before me," King spread his arms. "You see, this body before you is a hybrid made out of a wolfkin, a troll, and an insectoid. Countless parts were grafted on each other by the madman in hopes of giving birth to an ultimate being. Instead, Grug was born, a person with no ability to get stronger mid-fight and no ability to heal like trolls. No talent, just never-ending pain that his creator bestowed upon him."

"Then… How…?" Aranea gasped. Keep him talking. The help will come. Should come.

"Because fate had chosen us!" King leaned in closer, a claw resting on Aranea's nose. He removed the claw, licking off the blood, "Nosebleed. Concussion, no doubt. Listen well, then, before you bleed out. Grug bonded with one of the test subjects in the lab, together, they had endured the most grievous injuries that their creators had unleashed upon them. Together, they survived countless tests and battles. Together, they dreamed of freedom. Until the day came, when this subject was no more, taken apart by Academician," King’s clawed hand closed into a fist, "Leaving poor, weak, gentle Grug all alone. He whimpered in the darkness, begging to have someone to speak with. And I answered him, I, his idealistic version of Grug, the one whom he always wanted to be but lacked the strength to become. His other self. King."

"But this wasn’t the end of the story!" King pointed at the half-moon scar, "Turns out, Grug had power after all! We aptly named it ‘Lonely Legacy of the Dead’. Each time someone whom we consider a friend and who considers us a friend dies, we get their power. So you see. You are no longer facing the body of poor Grug alone. No, before you stand Chort, Jekaterina, Huntsman, Blaguna, Yasen and the unnamed girl, so cruelly butchered in the lab. And with their power, we will claim our freedom and mettle out our retribution upon all who wronged us!" King jumped up, raising the hands, allowing his voice to boom from the walls, "Unconquered and unbowed, no longer equal by anyone! This is we! None will hold sway over us ever again!" He looked down on her and extended his palm to her, "Grug wants to save you. I can hear him screaming in our skull. Spare her! Spare her! Fine then, how about a team up?"

"What?" Aranea blinked, unsure if she heard him right.

"Join me. Think about it. What has your nation brought you, aside from never-ending misery? The Reclaimers allow the Wolf Tribe to wallow in their barbarism, to slaughter their own. Your people are suffering and dying in unnecessary wars. And on the other hand," He pointed at unmoving Keyl, "The Ice Fang order had sentenced you to death out of mere hurry! You owe them nothing, Aranea. Take our hand. Join me! And together we will save the Wolf Tribe, changing them by force if needed! You and I, we will set everything rig…"

He stepped back, looking at the slice on his hand. Aranea’s claws failed to make a deep cut, but she had tried her best, pouring all her remaining strength into this attack.

"The Reclaimers are not perfect," Her eyes flashed, bringing back the burning memory of the dead marauders in Belaz, of her own sin of nearly killing the prisoner, of the cruelty that Ivar had unleashed on others, "But you are far worse, King. You worked with the Arena, feeding the scum who slaughtered innocents for the sake of a thrill. You helped Blaguna’s rise to power, helping her corrupt the regulators’ legacy," The halfbreed remembered the dead cub, the one who choked under the parent that tried to save him, the dead priests, the torture inflicted on her soldiers. And this time, she was filled with genuine rage and sorrow. "Your soldiers had slaughtered cubs and civilians of your own side, you yourself had planned to kill one of your cities, slaughtering all who trusted you! Jekaterina, the proud warrior who…" Realization hit Aranea, and she stopped, breathing hard, trying to gather strength. She looked up, her vision darkening, leaving King’s surprised face in the darkness, "You. You wanted them to die. Ivar was right, wasn’t he? The reason why Jekaterina wasn’t aware of the attack, why everyone else fought alone. You. You were the rot that doomed the Resistance."

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

The lens of her power blinked, coming back to life. She saw a brief message "Connection Restored" and lights flashed in the hangar, banishing darkness and illuminating the place. But the defensive robots, the mighty weapons meant to deny access to the demolition cannon to any enemy, were nowhere in sight.

"Took you long enough," King looked down on her dispassionately, "What I built, I can also destroy, girl. Yes, the power was always Grug’s, not mine. Whom he considered dear, friends, I viewed as tools. And how could I not? Have any of them saved us when we were suffering? No, Grug is foolish. Everyone get what they get, rest is an illusion. Just as we were used, so too I used others, building myself the means to buy my ultimate freedom. As we speak, Tlaltzin is fighting against…"

King’s body twitched, he grabbed his heart, staggering and nearly falling on his knees. He groaned, straightening himself with difficulty. Veins bulged beneath the pale skin, almost tearing it. Tears run from his eyes. A new half-moon scar has appeared on his snout.

"Now, now, be calm, Grug," King spoke, wiping out the tears. "There is no need to be sad. You’ll have more friends later. The time is nigh."

King laughed, and the metal beneath his legs connected with his feet, melting and intertwining with each other. His feet became one with the demolition cannon.

And the cannon came online. Aranea felt the ground shaking, she saw the metal doors at the ceiling starting to open, while the massive weapon started to move upward, carried by the lift. The room came to life, the soft yellow light of the lamps changed to red, the alarm systems went on, deafened by the working of countless gears that carried the doomsday weapon upward, smashing the bridges and walkways in its path. Aranea felt heat beneath her body and understood that King somehow managed to override the system.

"What are you planning to do?!" She shouted.

"Right now, Wyrm Lord is meeting with Eugenia Mylli and the other members of the Elites, who came to mediate peace and protect the survivors of the Bento Tribe," King looked up, seeing the light coming from above, and spread his arms, basking in it. Aranea looked aside, noticing that if the cannon moved at the same speed, they would come out in eight or so minutes. "And I will use this weapon to put an end to Wyrm Lord and his army. Along with every mountain and every city in the line of fire."

"Stop!" She tried to break free, "King, these are your people! Thousands… Tens of thousands will die! Why are you doing this!?"

"My friends had sacrificed their lives trying to stop Wyrm Lord. I simply want to make sure that their sacrifices were not in vain. Don’t you?" He looked at her face and started laughing. "Pardon the jest, there is nothing so shallow here. As we speak, the Organization’s goons are attacking Fort Uglo. And what do you think will happen if the demolisher cannon fires in the midst of all this chaos, killing Wyrm Lord and the Elites, crippling Iterna's and the Reclaimers' military potential? No one will believe in the accident, the chaos will start in the world, and I will slip into darkness, rebuilding my kingdom elsewhere, for real this time."

"You… You provoked this war, doomed your friends just too…" Aranea started talking, feeling her body weakening, along with the blood that was leaving her.

"Just to get powers for myself, yes," King loomed over her, his pristine white fangs gleaming. "And that’s not all. Here is another scrap of the game that I have been playing for so long. Remember Tilden?" He extended his left arm toward Aranea. The flesh of his fist shifted, building, contorting, and twisting like clay, forming new skin, a set of fangs, then crimson eyes, a snout, ears, and finally fur. With horror, Aranea saw Tilden’s head instead of his arm. When King spoke, pseudo-Tilden spoke as well, in the same voice, "It was me who introduced Academician and Tilden to each other. It was me who notified Tilden about your night games. On the night you were caught, I wanted to bring you to Tilden, but Grug, this soft-hearted fool, had actually wrestled control of the body from me. In the grand scheme of things, it was irrelevant. You still ended up being a casualty of my will. And guess what?" King looked at Keyl. Bones pushed through the skin of his head, forming a round crown atop his scalp. "This fate of yours will repeat once more. Today, I will murder everyone who has ever been precious to you, this time with my own hands."

No. Aranea thrashed in the metal pile, trying to reach him, trying to claw at him, trying to stop him. She felt panic and dread, mixed with helpless rage. Keyl, Olesya, Sonya, Annie, Kate, Sly, Kaleb, Yuki, Leila, Tiny, Gin, Carty… Everyone else who served with her. King already took Janine, Kostya and Scarred One, if he isn’t stopped… Her troops, her friends, her family—she was about to lose everyone once more, and there was nothing she could do…

No more. Aranea decided and entered her mindscape. Of her own volition. King desired power? She’ll show him power.

****

She landed on her feet, looking exactly like Aranea, standing at the head of the table, inside her own home. When the halfbreed turned to her left, she noticed Aranea/Twins. She turned to the right and willed Aranea/Ravager to come here. This time, there was no hesitation. Her rage, fury, and self-hatred came on their own, throwing glances at the white-furred figments of Aranea’s subconscious. They only smiled and offered a cake to the newcomer. After a momentary hesitation, the rage accepted the food.

"I need you," Aranea looked at them and bowed to them, "Forgive me for not accepting you fully for so long. For denying and lying to myself. I need your help now more than ever."

"And help you shall get." Aranea/Twins told her at the same time, smiling warmly. She felt their love, feelings she tried to suppress because she felt unworthy of it. Love. For everyone, herself included, and memories of home. Everything flowed back to her, forcing tears down Aranea’s face.

"Time to skin the bitch." Aranea/Ravager smiled savagely, and rage flowed into Aranea. The desire to dominate others, to fight and fight, to see who was the strongest in the tribe, overflowed Aranea, forcing her to release her claws and grit her fangs. She felt her fur electrocuted, and a surge of pure, raw adrenalin shot up through her body, far more potent than anything her power armor had ever injected into her.

And this time she knew how to handle it. She accepted them and was still herself. She was Aranea, in mind and body. The halfbreed looked at her paws, feeling something missing. A smile came on her face, and she turned around, moving far faster than anything she could do before.

Her paws grabbed the shoulders of a small, scared cub in a blue dress before the girl could sneak behind her. Terrified eyes met hers, one crimson and one amber, just like Aranea’s.

"Let me go!" the girl yapped, trying to break free in vain.

"Gotcha," Aranea hugged her, "It’s time for us to accept and move on."

"You hate me! You buried me!" Aranea Wintersong yelled back, clawing at Aranea's rough skin in vain. "I was the reason Mom and Dad…"

"No. "You were not,"Aranea got down on one knee and looked into the eyes of her lost innocence. , "And I apologize for blaming you. I am so, so sorry for shutting you out, for calling you weak and useless. No more. You are Aranea Wintersong, and we have a right to live and be happy. Please, come back to me."

"You won’t throw me away again? No lying?" The girl asked with suspicion, and Aranea smiled.

"No cheating, no lying, and no weaseling out," Aranea kissed her brow, a surge of something long forgotten spreading through her chest. Happiness and the desire to learn. "And when we're done, we’re going to learn so much more stuff. How about we pick up a guitar?"

"We’ll look ridiculous!" Aranea Wintersong laughed.

"That we will," Aranea promised, taking her in her arms and standing up, "But that’s life for you. And it will be fun!"

"Your strength saved my friends," Aranea told Aranea/Ravager. "Your support helped me push on through the darkest time," She told Aranea/Twins.

Without hesitation, she took them all in a hug, feeling the stiffness of her rage dissipate. And in its place came what she had been keeping hidden for so long. Power. The reward for defeating Jekaterina. The reward for downing the skinwalker. All of it and more. The dam that had blocked this power was no longer in place.

"What happens now?" Aranea/Ravager asked, "Is it time for us to disappear? Become one or something?"

"Nah! I like being a little crazy, ‘sides you are a good company," Aranea smiled and spread her lips, showing fangs, "Now we are going to fuck up this King. And then we are going to live. All of us."

****

Aranea stood up, feeling the metal raining down from her body. Several tons of steel that had kept her down suddenly felt as light as a feather. Her armor busted all around her, becoming way too tight for the muscles that came from within. The damaged fur regrew, covering the halfbreed's body like a black, regal mantle, only the fur around her crimson eye was strikingly white.

King stared at her, dazzled by the crimson and amber lights emanating from her eyes. She walked forth, growing in size with each passing step. The bruises and wounds, the badly healed bones—all were fixed. Aranea felt her heart changing shape, felt a new bone armor growing underneath her skin. The fingers became longer and thicker, barely containing the new, oversized claws within. The missing fangs regrew anew. The scars on the half-breed's body vanished, except for one left by Janine as a tribute to her second mother.

The halfbreed felt new muscles and veins forming in her body, followed by entirely new sensations. Her posture changed slightly, the hunching was gone, and she was now standing upright, not that unlike Valerye or Zero. She moved her fingers and saw that she could easily bend each of them all the way to her wrist without help from her second paw,

Aranea was no longer a warlord in just a name. Now she stood as tall as Janine, her body bulging with muscles, her arms thicker than her former waist. The world changed. She saw everything. The metal falling on the ground slowed to a crawl, her new nose discerned every smell coming from King’s body, her new ears picked up Keyl’s faint heartbeat and the heartbeats of those on the surface.

And she smiled, happy that her fears were wrong. At the sight of this King recoiled in something akin to fear, backing off to Keyl. His feet were easily leaving the cannon, but Aranea had noticed that he always kept one limb fused with the metal.

You control this weapon via touch… She picked up her father’s sword, which now looked more like a knife in her paw.

"What trickery is this?" King demanded to know, "If you think this will help you…"

"Shut up for a sec." Aranea walked past him, far faster than he could react, no longer carrying her sword.

King felt her attacks a moment later, as she was picking up Keyl. The smashing blows against both elbows. The crushing kicks against the ribs. The piercing thrust against his chest tore through both bones and left him disemboweled, leaving him stumbling in his own intestines. She tore off Tilden's head and tore out King's heart. And more, more, more. Punch after punch, each was delivered with such force that it created shockwaves that sent metal remains splashing against the walls and would’ve sent Keyl’s off the cannon if she didn’t catch him first. Each punch contorted and bent King’s form out of shape, breaking every bone that she could spare time for. And as a final stroke, she left the sword buried in his head, coming all the way straight through his right side of the head and coming out from the left side of his lips.

Aranea stuffed his heart and Tilden's shattered head into her mouth, feeling the flesh on her tongue. And swallowed it without chewing, satiating the burning hunger in her stomach. She picked up Keyl under one arm, kicking up the rail gun into her left paw. This time, I’ll act as your knight in not-so-shining armor, Keyli-boy. But I have amazing, gleaming black fur.

"What…" King coughed, turning to face her, his face resembled more of a crumpled tin can than his normal head, "What do you think you are doing?"

"Decrowning the king." Aranea fired into his face, taking away half of his head.

The final battle has begun.