Tara came charging towards them like there was lightning in her feet.

But her eyes shone with fear.

Ethan summoned Valgraiva’s Repuslor Shield in time to block her strike, managing to push her back before her limbs struck out for the rest of the party.

“Guys – I – I can’t…”

She slashed at Fauna and took a swathe of hair out the Hopla’s fringe before Klax stepped forward and grappled her, pinning her in place even as her limbs bulged with fierce, raw energy.

“I got her!” the wolfman growled. “Now, Ethan!”

The Archon snapped out of the spell that had been cast over him, tearing himself away from Tara’s terrified, sweating face, to see the cackling monster that was controlling her.

He leveled his new musket and let a Spectral Snipe bolt fly – aiming directly at the Spectator’s chest-level eyeball.

But before the blow was struck, another shambling Flesh Golem emerged from the chasm cut into the earth and tanked the hit, its body erupting in a haze of blood and viscera.

“Come now, Mr Hawke,” the giddy voice of the ‘Doctor’ called out from the wretched mouth of his creation. “It wouldn’t be that easy, now would it?”

A burst of energy propelled Tara forward and she pushed Klax into the burning form of an old oak tree at the edge of the battlefield. Meanwhile, Fauna had erected an Arcane Barrier to ward off the new onslaught of another wave of Golems.

“This magic…” the Hopla murmured, looking at Tara with utter fear, “it’s unnatural…”

Ethan growled, bringing his sword to bear.

“I can cut through them,” he said. “Klax! Keep Tara down. Fauna – keep up your shield.”

“Right!”

As the wave of Golems pressed down on their defensive position, each one battering its limb-grafted weapons against Fauna’s stuttering shield, Ethan summoned up a Mana Veil to try and counteract the Blood Magic of the Spectator. But even as the dark fog settled on the burning arena around them, Tara’s body still flailed against her control.

“I – I can’t – stop it!”

“Oh, my good Archon! You really must take better care of your pets!”

Tara suddenly withdrew from Klax and smashed into the waiting arms of a Golem with twin axes as its tools of death. It grappled her and was ready to tear her apart were it not for Lamphrey’s well timed blast of dark energy that ripped through its innards.

“These beasts are not as potent as they seem,” she said – possessed by a strange calmness even with the odds set against them. “Their purpose is to protect their leader. We must cut a path towards him.”

Ethan grit his teeth. Even in the form of a Salamandrike, his anger was more than clear.

He’s trying to rile you up, Sys told him.

Ethan’s reply was cold as winter’s breath.

“It’s working.”

He gripped Greybane and surged forth from Fauna’s shield, sending a flurry of three Twilight Edge arcs towards the wave of Golems pressed against them. His Skitter skill carried him forward, while his Wing Buffet kept the army constantly on the backfoot. With four great flaps of the webbed emerald wings that appeared from his spine, he sent them flying in every direction into the fires they had created. They burned, but no screams came. There was no pleasure he took in their deaths.

Then he felt a stab of pain shoot up his back. He dropped, rolled, and was ready to send a Spectral Snipe at his assailant when he realized just who had launched a blazing fireball towards him.

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“E-Ethan!” Fauna cried, her head jerking up like a marionette on an invisible string. “I – ngh!”

“Such powerful magic for such a gentle soul!” the ‘Doctor’ hissed through his servant. “Let us see just what she can do –“

Before Fauna could launch another bolt at Ethan, Lamphrey had crossed staves with her. The Tilax enveloped them both in a gale of darkness, and the last thing Ethan heard was Fauna’s scream as she disappeared, no doubt being urged to take the Lizardwoman down by any means necessary.

Ethan moved to help them on instinct, but the deep voice of Lamphrey rang out from the dark:

“Kill him,” she said. Her words were quick, snappy, and obviously said in the heat of combat. “Cut him down and his magic dies with him.”

He saw the chaos that the once quiet forest had been engulfed in. He could hear Tara scream as she was forced to fight Klax, could sense Fauna desperately trying to regain control of herself as Lamphrey kept her locked in her dark sphere.

And he could feel the rage that was burning inside his own body now – rage that was slowly turning the world red.

Because no matter where he went, there was always going to be someone who wanted to kill him, wasn’t there? That was what Kaedmon wanted.

He looked up at the grisly Spectator. Between him and it was a legion of Golems, with more emerging to replenish their fallen brethren by the second.

“Coming to get me?” the creature hissed.

Ethan…Sys cautioned. Don’t let him rile you. That’s exactly what he wants. Don’t let him –

Too late.

He hefted Greybane in his hands and charged, headfirst, into the horde. The first of their swelling ranks fell instantly, two Twilight Edges rupturing their stomachs and pouring their writhing intestines across the charred forest floor. Those behind, pressing forward, were toppled by a beastly Roar that dropped them to their knees. He took their dangling heads from their chests with a single swipe of his blade.

Ethan tore through the mass of Flesh Golems. His movements were a blur of fury and precision, his rage pouring into every strike of Greybane. The spectral glow of his blade cast twisted shadows over the shambling abominations as he cleaved through them, his speed bolstered by [Skitter] and his technique sharpened by raw determination.

One Golem lunged at him with a serrated arm, a grotesque fusion of bone and steel. Ethan ducked under its swipe and countered with a spinning slash, Greybane’s edge shimmering with the power of its [Fade Slice] property. The strike sheared clean through the creature's torso, and its upper half collapsed in a lifeless heap, leaving its legs standing for a brief moment before they toppled.

Another monstrosity, this one with spider-like limbs and a scorpion’s tail, leaped at him from the side. Ethan sidestepped with [Skitter], his movements a blur, and lashed out with a [Twilight Edge]. The arc of shadow energy cut the beast in two mid-air, its halves crashing to the ground with a sickening squelch.

“Look at you go!” the Doctor’s mocking voice rang out through the carnage.

“Shut up and fight me yourself!” Ethan roared, twisting Greybane in his grip to intercept another Golem’s downward strike. The impact reverberated up his arm, but he held firm, twisting the blade to sever the creature’s weaponized limb before thrusting it into its core. The Golem spasmed as its magic unraveled, collapsing into a pile of mismatched parts.

Ahead, the Spectator loomed, its monstrous eye glimmering with malevolent glee. It raised a long, thin finger to point at him, and more Flesh Golems surged forth, their grotesque forms blotting out the path between Ethan and his target.

“Ah, but you’re so much more fun like this,” the Doctor continued. “Desperate. Angry. Helpless. Just like every Archon before you.”

He propelled himself off the shoulders of a Golem as Fauna’s screams rang out in the fiery miasma burning all around him.

[Dive]

His body came crashing into the last defensive line of Golems and turned them to mush, covering his form in their entrails. By this point, he was all instinct. All fire. He didn’t know when he’d started screaming, but he could barely even hear his voice as he looked into the watchful eye of the Doctor’s last corpse-puppet, raised his weapon, and charged.

He got within three inches of the Spectator, thrusted his blade at its center, and then stopped abruptly.

The eye narrowed at the top of his sword.

“Reverse engineered Onixia…” the Doctor hissed. “Very clever. Very clever indeed.”

Ethan’s limbs fumbled, his eyes bulging with fury as he willed himself forward, managing to take one step, then another, then…

“Remarkable,” he heard the Doctor say through his blind rage. “You seem more than capable of resisting my touch.”

He pushed through the pain in his limbs. After all, they weren’t really his. His mind was stronger than this. He’d been through worse. He’d fought the Lightborn and lived.

“This…is…nothing…” he growled.

Then in the next moment, he was pinned prone on the ground, the Doctor’s laughter echoing above him.

His eyes darted around the battlefield before he realized the deception. As the smoke from the burning trees cleared up, he saw them: at least six more Spectators dotted around them.

Every eye focused on him.

“Very good, indeed,” the Doctor whistled, letting a thin tentacle play across Ethan’s hat-form and his hate-filled eye. “I really don’t enjoy showing my hand too early, you know. But for you, my good Archon, I’ll make an exception.”

Ethan heard his comrades’ grunts and shrieks behind him. Then he felt his body lifted up – pulled by the invisible strings of the Doctor’s magic – to witness what he already knew was happening.

He was looking into the terrified eyes of his hybrid team as they leveled their weapons against him.