The shrine, now bathed in the strange light from the Hydra’s awakening, still pulsed with magic. The echoes of the past and the ancient power that had summoned Emmet’s new companion filled the air, but as the magic settled, new questions began to stir in Emmet’s mind—questions about the Hydra, Tabitha, and Doramm.
As the Hydra coiled around him, its massive body moving like liquid stone, Emmet finally found his voice. “What’s your name?” he asked, his words feeling small in comparison to the creature’s overwhelming presence.
The Hydra’s eyes gleamed with an ancient wisdom, and its many heads turned toward Emmet. The central head, larger than the others, leaned closer, its voice low and resonant, like distant thunder. “I am Nykaros,” it said, the name carrying a weight that felt timeless. “Bound to you, summoner. You have awakened me, and I will fight by your side.”
Emmet nodded slowly, feeling the bond settle between them. Nykaros. A name that seemed to resonate in the air, reverberating in his chest. There was a sense of power that came with the name, a deep history that Emmet couldn’t fully understand yet, but it was one he could feel, even in his bones.
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Emmet turned to look at Tabitha, who was still staring at the Hydra, her expression a mixture of awe and something more personal—something that Emmet couldn't quite place. She hadn’t said much since Nykaros appeared, but her eyes were locked on him, as though she was seeing something far beyond the present.
“Tabitha,” Emmet said, drawing her attention. “Are you okay? You seem... distant.”
Tabitha blinked, her eyes refocusing, and she nodded quickly, as if to shake off the thoughts that had clouded her mind. “I’m fine,” she said softly. “It’s just... strange.” Her voice trailed off, and for a moment, she seemed lost in her thoughts. Then, after a long pause, she met his gaze, and her voice dropped lower, as if she were revealing a secret long kept buried. “Emmet, there’s something I haven’t told you.”
Emmet felt his heart tighten at her words. He had always sensed there was more to Tabitha’s past than she had let on, something she kept hidden deep inside her, but he never pushed her to share it. He was the kind of person who respected boundaries, knowing how painful the past could be. But now, standing here in the ruins with the power of the Hydra surging through him, he could sense the weight of her secret pressing against her.
“What is it?” he asked gently.
Tabitha inhaled deeply, as if preparing herself for something difficult. “When I first answered your call, I didn’t know who you were,” she began, her voice trembling slightly. “But when I saw you, when I looked at your face... I felt something I hadn’t felt in a long time. It was like I was staring at a ghost, Emmet. You look exactly like someone I loved... someone I lost.” Her eyes grew distant again, her voice barely a whisper. “I don’t know how to explain it, but when I saw you, I felt like I was called to you because of him—because you reminded me of the man I once loved.”
Emmet’s heart lurched as the gravity of her words settled in. His face must have betrayed his surprise, because Tabitha quickly added, “I didn’t want to tell you because I wasn’t sure if it would change anything between us, but the truth is, I didn’t just answer the call because I was bound to you. I answered because... I felt that pull, that connection. And even now, I can’t shake it.”
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There was a long silence between them as Emmet processed what she had said. Tabitha’s feelings—her internal struggle—were far more complex than he had ever realized. He didn’t know what to say, so instead, he just nodded slowly.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly, his voice carrying the weight of his sincerity. “I never meant to remind you of someone you lost.”
Tabitha’s lips curved into a small, wistful smile. “It’s not your fault, Emmet. I... I’m not saying it’s a bad thing. It’s just... complicated. I’m still figuring it out.” She paused, looking up at Nykaros, then back at Emmet. “But I’m here because I believe in what we’re doing. And I believe in you.”
Emmet offered her a quiet, understanding smile. He knew that this revelation, whatever it meant for their relationship, didn’t change the mission they were on. It didn’t change the fact that they needed each other, and they needed to continue their fight against the Crown’s Wrath.
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As they stood in the ruins, Emmet felt a presence beside him. He turned to see Doramm standing just behind, his heavy armor gleaming faintly in the dim light of the shrine. The death knight’s hollow, glowing eyes were fixed on the Hydra, his posture unreadable.
Emmet sensed there was something weighing on Doramm, something more than just the appearance of the Hydra. The warrior had always been reserved, but lately, Emmet had noticed a change in him. His quiet demeanor seemed less brooding and more contemplative, as if something from his past had stirred inside him.
“You seem lost in thought, Doramm,” Emmet remarked, his voice gentle.
Doramm’s hollow gaze met his. “You summoned the Hydra,” he said, his voice low and tinged with an emotion Emmet couldn’t place. “But there is something about it—something that resonates within me.”
Emmet raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
Doramm’s expression grew distant, as if he was seeing something beyond the present. “I once served a prince, long before I became what I am now,” he said, his voice tinged with sorrow. “He was a noble, strong, and full of life, just like you, Emmet. But in the end, he was betrayed—by his own kingdom, his own people.” His hands clenched into fists, his armored fingers making a dull, metallic sound. “I was the prince’s knight, his protector, until his body fell to the darkness. He became a death knight, bound to the will of the enemy who destroyed him. And now... I see you, and you look so much like him.”
Emmet’s heart sank as he absorbed the weight of Doramm’s words. He could see the pain behind the death knight’s cold eyes, a pain that had been buried for so long. Doramm had served his prince loyally, only to watch him fall, to witness the transformation that had turned his once-proud ruler into something monstrous.
“I don’t know what this means,” Doramm continued, his voice growing softer. “But I feel as if I’ve been bound to you for a reason. Perhaps it is because you are the last piece of the prince’s soul that has not been lost to darkness.”
Emmet stood in silence for a long moment, his mind racing. The similarities between him and Doramm’s prince were impossible to ignore. They looked alike—too alike. But what did that mean for him? And for Doramm?
“I don’t know, Doramm,” Emmet said finally, his voice quiet but firm. “But I will do everything I can to avoid falling to the same fate as your prince. I will not become a monster, no matter what happens.”
Doramm nodded, his expression unreadable. “I believe you, Emmet,” he said, his tone low and steady. “I only wanted you to know. You remind me of someone I lost.”
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As they stood in the ruins, the weight of their shared burdens hung heavy between them. But despite the dark history that connected them—despite the echoes of the past that lingered in the air—Emmet felt a renewed sense of purpose. They were bound by their losses, their secrets, and their pain, but they were also bound by something stronger: their fight for survival and their hope for a future where the past could be left behind.
The Hydra, Nykaros, roared in the distance, its presence both terrifying and awe-inspiring. But with Tabitha, Doramm, and now this new summon at his side, Emmet knew that they were not alone. The past might shape them, but it would not define them.