“Wo-woah! W-wh-what are you—” Enya’s words stumbled out as her entire body jerked violently to the left. Her grip tightened around Mr. Bones' neck, knuckles white as she clung on for dear life. The world around her reeled as her vision shifted from the sudden movement. Despite the chaotic movement, Enya held tight. Her legs swung forward and off his back, turning Enya into a miniature pendulum.

Bang!

A deafening crack ripped through the air, like the sound of a thousand brittle branches snapping in unison. Wind rushed past, pushing against her as Mr. Bones' arm—already a maze of small cracks—whipped forward with immense force. His joints let out a cacophony of rapid-fire snaps, each sound tumbling over the other in a single sequence.

The sword, once held in his hand, was now a blur. It surged forward, faster than her eyes could truly comprehend, but one slow enough for her senses to envelop. The air in front of the flying blade parted, as if allowing the sword a royal passage.

She could see it—the sword’s path, clear as day, a single unwavering line cutting through the chaos. Mr. Bones, too, shifted back into place, his body returning to its usual eerie calm, as they both stared at the rapidly vanishing sword.

Up ahead, the gruesome scene unfurled in the dim light. The hulking beast of a rat was mere moments from crushing Pell’s skull between its foul jaws. Enya winced at the faint crunching sound, like brittle parchment being ground into dust. It wasn’t just distant, but muffled by the horrifying reality that half of Pell’s skull was already wedged deep in Mr. Rat’s maw.

But the sword—it was unstoppable. Its flight was clean and true, slicing through the air, unwavering and unnaturally steady. It neither wobbled nor veered, a straight line of resolve heading directly for the rat. For one brief, breathless moment, Enya froze, waiting to see what would happen.

And then, it struck.

image [https://i.imgur.com/ZiLMGqb.png]

As the monstrous rat gnawed down on Pell’s fragile skull, a sudden tremor rippled through its body. Something was wrong. Instinct, honed by years of survival in the dark, kicked in like a jolt of electricity. Its tail snapped upward, straight as a spear, while the few remaining patches of fur along its spine bristled in alarm. Its ears twitched, straining to catch the faintest hint of what lay ahead, and its beady, black but bloodshot eyes scanned the abyss in front of it.

In one violent motion, the beast jerked its head sideways, flinging Pell’s skull like a discarded toy. It clattered noisily along the stone floor, bouncing off walls until it came to rest in a small heap. The rat, sensing the unseen threat drawing near, coiled all its muscles in preparation. Then, with an explosive leap, it sprang to the right, trying to escape the danger it couldn’t yet fully see.

But Mr. Bones’ sword, though old and rusted, held formidable striking power and speed. The blade glinted for half a heartbeat as it sliced through the shadows, revealing itself just before it struck.

Schrlk!

The sound of metal biting into flesh echoed through the corridor. The blade pierced the rat's upper left shoulder, burying itself deep into sinew and muscle with a sickening thud. It shrieked—a high, banshee-like wail that clawed at the ears, filled with agony and rage. Its fangs snapped in fury, dripping saliva as it writhed in pain, each movement sending tremors through its massive frame. Its tail lashed the stone floor, leaving jagged cracks with every furious strike.

The rat staggered, its left leg buckling beneath it. For just a short moment, the rat faltered, its body tilting until it slumped down into the rat-equivalent of a human kneeling to show subservience. Though as that may be—Its eyes, wide and blazing with pain, darted around wildly, projecting anger and resentment. Though wounded, its feral instincts refused to let it show weakness, its gaze flicking into each dark corner, trying to locate where the attack had come from.

Despite the sword lodged in its flesh, the rat managed to rise once more, its hulking form slowly straightening until it stood tall on all fours. It roared in defiance, tail slamming down onto the stone with a thunderous crack, leaving a deeper, more jagged impression into the ground. The battle wasn’t over yet. The rat's eyes narrowed, now fixed on the center of the hallway. It sensed prey. Unwilling prey—ones that struggled to survive—ones that would inevitably die, and become its food.

image [https://i.imgur.com/ZiLMGqb.png]

"Nice throw!" Enya called out, her voice carrying a mix of excitement and lingering fear as she tugged on Mr. Bones’ back.

They had reached the main intersection now, and Mr. Bones, ever vigilant, slowed his pace. He kept his distance from the demon rat, who was still pacing in the shadows ahead, its body taut and ready to strike again. Enya, hands trembling, slid off Mr. Bones' back as he crouched low to the ground. The moment her feet touched the floor, Mr. Bones sprang upright, his skeletal form poised and alert.

Enya’s eyes darted toward the rat, but her attention quickly shifted to Pell. The sight that greeted her turned her stomach. Pell’s body was crumpled on the ground, a disjointed pile of broken bones scattered around him. Her breath hitched as she surveyed the damage. Small shards of bone littered the floor like fragile porcelain fragments, and larger pieces were missing entirely—parts of his arm, his leg—gone, either in too many pieces to identify, or having already been blown away.

But that wasn’t the worst of it.

Her gaze slowly shifted to his skull, lying a few meters away, propped awkwardly against the wall. An enormous crack, jagged and harsh, sliced through the bone like a lightning bolt. It stretched from the top of his skull, down past his left eye socket, and continued to where his right cheek should have been.

His eye.

Enya’s heart stopped. Her breath came in shallow gasps as she realized what was missing. His skull was empty—Pell’s left eye socket, usually glowing with a small spark, was now dark and hollow.

Half-draped in flickering light and creeping shadows, Enya stood frozen, the weight of the moment sinking in. The silence stretched out, taut and heavy, the air thick with anticipation as if the world itself held its breath for what would come next.

The familiar purple sparks that had always danced within Pell, flickering faintly in the hollow of his bones, were now snuffed out. She’d seen him lose bones before, even entire limbs, but this? This was different. Bones could be mended, but his flame—his essence—his soul—was gone.

The silence that followed was thick and oppressive, broken only by the guttural snarls of the demon rat. Its hulking form shifted with a deliberate slowness. Its claws began extending ever-so slowly, piercing the stone beneath it as though the ground were made of soft clay. Every motion felt drawn out, as if time itself had been caught in the same suffocating pause that gripped Enya.

Time seemed to slow as the demon rat and Mr. Bones stared each other down.

The rat’s stench was overpowering, a blend of rot and burnt fur, its foul odor hugging the air. Its maw slowly parted, drool sliding free to pool at its feet, revealing rows of jagged, glistening teeth but decayed within. It coiled, ready to strike, muscles tense beneath its mangled hide.

Mr. Bones stood firm, his skeletal frame rigid but unyielding, arms raised in a crude but defiant stance. Despite the odds, he was prepared to face the beast head-on. For a moment, the rat’s narrow gaze flickered toward Enya, dismissing her as little more than a nuisance. Its focus quickly shifted back to Mr. Bones, the real threat in its eyes.

The tension in the air thickened further. Something had to give.

The flicker of a flame atop a nearby torch was snuffed out by a sudden gust, as if the dungeon itself had signaled and commanded the coming clash. Anticipation disappeared, replaced by reaction, as the demon rat—still with a sword lodged deep in its flesh, was the first to move. It surged forward with terrifying voracity, its gaping maw wide enough to engulf a person whole. It aimed directly for Mr. Bones.

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Enya flinched, and a shock jolted up across her entire body. Without thinking, she lunged forward, skidding across the cold stone floor as she reached Pell’s skull. Her back slammed into the wall, but her mind barely registered the pain. The beast didn’t even glance her way—it had been completely fixated on Mr. Bones.

The beast closed in quick, its body halfway in the air as its jaws widened. Mr. Bones shuffled his legs around and leaned ever so slightly to the right. He rotated his entire body by shifting his momentum around and spun. With a whoosh of air, the demon rat flew past him before coming to a halt barely a meter away.

With a snarl, the creature snapped its head back toward him, its tail cracking like a whip. The sound was sharp and violent enough to split the air—the tail itself became a blur of motion as it lashed forward. Mr. Bones barely had enough time to react, but was able to raise his left arm in defense.

Crack!

The impact shattered the bone in his arm, sending fragments flying in every direction. The force of the blow was so great that it lifted him off his feet—his skeletal frame flung backward like a ragdoll. Bone shards rained down, clattering against the stone floor as he tumbled through the air toward the stone wall behind him.

Mr. Bones crashed into the wall with a loud clatter, bouncing off and staggering forward until he came to a shaky halt. His body stiffened with a sudden jolt, pulling him back into a steady stance as if he hadn’t just been flung like a heap of discarded bones. But something was missing—half of his left arm had been shattered into oblivion. Only the thin radius bone clung together, a fragile connection between his upper and lower arm, but it would have to do.

As the final piece of exploded bone fragment touched the floor, the demon rat lunged again. Mr. Bones shuffled back, his heels scraping the ground until his left ankle tapped against the wall. He waited, still as a statue, eyes locked on the monstrous blur that was rushing toward him.

With one quick motion, Mr. Bones ducked and sprang his body forward into a roll. The rat flew past atop him, aiming directly at the solid wall. Mr. Bones whipped his body around, bones cracking unnaturally as he forced himself to turn as quickly as possible. His back pressed against the ground and he compressed his knees together. The rat’s brown, hairy, and charred belly passed above his view. Another snapping sound of bone joints burst forth. His legs shot out liked a coiled spring, slamming straight into the rat’s stomach.

The impact snapped the rat’s head downward before flinging its entire body into the stone wall with a deafening crash. A wave trembled beneath them as stone dust erupted from the collision, clouding the hallway in a swirling haze of debris. A crater formed in the wall, deep enough to swallow part of the demon’s body, leaving only its thrashing tail visible as it kicked up more dust in a frenzied struggle.

The air grew thick with the gritty fog, obscuring the monster as it fought to free itself, its tail sending wild shadows dancing across the walls.

Mr. Bones leaped back to his feet, bones clicking with every motion as he shuffled over to Enya. His hollow gaze fell upon the girl, now on her knees, clutching Pell’s skull in her lap. Her fingers trembled against the formerly smooth surface—eyes wavering and lost.

“I-I-I…” she said, but her words wouldn’t come out.

“I-I-I…” Enya stammered, but her voice faltered, the words catching in her throat. Anger, dread, and sorrow, regret, all fighting for dominance. Her gaze drifted back to the skull in her hands, Pell’s lifeless eye sockets staring blankly at her, empty and cold. She could see clean through, inside to the other side, the torchlight above her serving as a perfect back-light.

“I don’t… Pell is…” Her voice quivered, teetering on the edge of breaking.

Just as the first tear began to well in her eyes, a faint vibration buzzed beneath her fingertips. Her heart skipped a beat. She turned the skull slightly, angling it toward her with shaky hands.

“P-Pell?” she whispered, voice filled with hope, but laced with fear. The soul-flames that had once flickered in his eyes were gone, snuffed out. Or perhaps… not completely. There, deep within the socket, the barest hint of a flicker remained—tiny, fragile, like the last ember of a dying fire. But it was fading fast, barely a glimmer in the vast emptiness.

Her focus, the one that had sharpened her senses to a razor’s edge, had slipped the moment she jumped from Mr. Bones’ back. She willed herself to bring it back, to pour everything she had into finding that spark again, to know for certain if Pell was still… there.

But before she could activate it—before she could regain her concentration—

“You… damn idiot…” a raspy voice muttered, so faint it barely reached her ears. The skull hadn’t moved, and the words seemed more like a distant echo, a whisper on the wind, yet unmistakably Pell’s.

"Pell! You're… you're okay?" Enya’s voice trembled with hope, her grip tightening around the skull as if she was trying to hold hold and tether Pell to the mortal realm with only her bare hands.

"Pillow… get… out… damn…" The skull vibrated faintly, the movement barely noticeable as Pell’s voice slipped through, weaker than before. "So…e," he rasped, the final syllable crumbling into nothingness, leaving the room hollow. The tiny quivers stopped altogether.

Then, a soft chime.

A notification screen materialized before her eyes, ethereal and sudden, its glowing text cutting through the haze of her emotions.

System Notification: Pell has requested a Guaranteed Transaction with you.

He wishes to offer: [Rebound Talisman]

In exchange for: [Nothing]

[Accept/Decline]

The words danced across her vision, but Enya had no time to process them. The moment Pell’s name appeared, her heart surged, and without hesitation, she accepted. She barely saw the details before the screen vanished into the air.

The talisman—a small rectangular slip of paper, the same one she had seen in her earlier vision—rested under the shattered remains of Pell’s hand. His body was now nothing more than a heap of broken bones. A sudden flash of light sparked from the talisman, bright and brief, and in an instant—it disappeared from beneath his fingers and reappeared in her palm.

She barely glanced at it, her mind already pulled back to the skull in her lap.

"Pell? Pell? Please…" Her words trailed off, her breath catching as the truth finally sank in. The skull was still. No flicker, no faint vibration, no whisper from beyond.

The soul-flame had gone out.

Pell was gone.

image [https://i.imgur.com/ZiLMGqb.png]

The silence that had settled like a heavy fog did not last long. Loose stones crumbled and fell as the demon rat pulled itself from the wreckage, shaking off the dizzying daze. Its beady, glowing eyes locked onto Mr. Bones, brimming with utter malice. The skeleton and the monstrous rat stood motionless for a moment, two combatants sizing each other up—one of all bone and resolve, the other a twisted, charred, and grotesque house pest.

Mr. Bones towered protectively over Enya, his empty gaze fixed on the rat. But after a beat, he crouched slightly, extending his bony hand toward her in a gesture that might have been tender if it weren’t so mechanical. Enya looked up at him, tears shimmering at the corners of her eyes. She clutched Pell’s skull tightly in her left hand and reached for Mr. Bones' offered hand with her right.

But as her fingers brushed against his, he pulled his hand back. Enya blinked in confusion, thrown off by the sudden reluctance. Mr. Bones shook his head slowly, side to side, then pointed with one skeletal finger to something beside her.

Her gaze followed his gesture.

"O-oh… yeah… it’s… not like I can use it..." she muttered, voice low and heavy. A somber sigh escaped her lips as she picked up the object—a worn, battle-scarred dagger. She handed it to Mr. Bones. Without missing a beat, he spun the weapon twice in his hand, getting a feel for it, before gripping it tightly.

“And… I guess… these?” Enya’s voice wavered, nearly devoid of emotion now, as she reached into the folds of her robe. She produced three small pills, their crimson-red hue gleaming ominously in the dim torchlight.

Chrrrsk!

A sharp sound filled the air as the demon rat snarled, its teeth clacking together in a rapid, menacing chatter. The moment it caught sight of the red pills, its entire body tensed, a low growl rumbling in its throat. Its eyes locked onto the orbs now resting in the skeleton's hand—it recognized it. The rat stared with a mixture of weariness and ferocity—but not fear. No, the rat held no fear, nor a sense of retreat. Whether those pills were like the one that burned half of its body, it did indeed care—but not enough to abandon its prey.

The battle was far from over.

Mr. Bones shifted and moved around Enya, standing in between her and the demon rat, blocking their sights of each other completely.

The demon rat’s beady eyes flickered between its two cornered prey, hunger radiating off it in palpable waves. It flexed its left shoulder, wincing as the weight of the rusted bronze sword, still lodged deep within its flesh, tugged at the wound. Yet it barely acknowledged any true pain.

The rat’s vertical-slit pupils thinned further, and its body rumbled, shaking loose clumps of dirt and debris from its ragged fur. A primal tension filled the air, its muscles coiling, readying for the pounce.

Mr. Bones readied himself, prepared to react in an instant. As he held the blade, its polished surface shimmered, mirroring both the dancing flames from the torches above, and an image of Enya sitting behind him.

There was a brief, almost imperceptible flash that glinted from the darkness, within a tiny cavern that held two openings—dancing, before wisping away, leaving no trace of its existence.

The atmosphere thickened like a weight, pressing down on all of them. Both Mr. Bones and the demon rat stood motionless, locked in a silent, deadly analysis of one another. The rusted sword protruding from the rat’s side had loosened, black blood oozing down its leg, staining the matted fur.

Time slowed, freezing still, as if waiting for the gods to take their seats in attendance. Silence became the announcer, walking around to meet both contestants, announcing their strengths and weaknesses, stirring anticipation among crowd for the upcoming fight.

As just like that, between the two fighters, the clang of a metaphorical gong rang out—the call to begin their fight, had sounded.