As the swirling energy gathered into a violent maelstrom around the creature, the very air crackled with dark power. Vas could feel it—a deep, primal force shaking the earth beneath his feet, threatening to tear the world apart. The creature, once so smug, was now writhing in terror as the colossal might of the Hekatonkheires descended upon it. Its screams filled the air, sharp and piercing, echoing off the ancient stone walls like the wails of the damned.

Anya took a step back, her eyes wide with dread. "Vas… what's happening?"

Vas didn't answer. His eyes remained locked on the abomination before them, watching as the swirling energy began to burrow into the creature's frail body. The tattoos on its skin writhed like living things, glowing an eerie black-blue, as if being branded by some otherworldly force. The ground shook more violently now, cracks splitting the stone beneath them.

The kneeling figures, those who had seemed so lifeless, suddenly stirred. Without warning, they rose from the ground in unison, their movements stiff, unnatural, like marionettes being pulled by invisible strings. Their eyes were wide open, vacant, as they began to shuffle toward the creature at the center of the ritual. They moved slowly at first, then faster, their bodies jerking and twitching, their limbs convulsing as if they were no longer in control of themselves.

"Oh god…" Anya whispered, stumbling backward. "They're—they're going to it."

The throng of possessed worshippers surged forward like a tide of madness, their mouths agape, though no sound escaped their lips. Some of them tore at their own flesh, ripping at their faces and arms in grotesque displays of devotion, the blood flowing freely as they scrambled over one another in desperation. Their eyes, once empty, now burned with the same eldritch energy that filled the air. They were offering themselves—pieces of their very bodies—to the creature.

Vas clenched his fists. "They're making it… they're forging a vessel."

The people reached the creature and began to climb on top of it, their hands gripping its fragile limbs as they melded their flesh to its body. The creature screamed, thrashing wildly as it was enveloped by the wave of human sacrifice. Flesh and bone twisted together in horrifying ways, the bodies fusing into the creature as if they were clay being molded into something far darker. Limbs stretched unnaturally, doubling and tripling in size, as the kneelers crawled over the abomination, their flesh melding into its growing form.

"Stop!" Anya shouted, her voice cracking, but it was useless. They were too late. The ritual had taken on a life of its own, and nothing could halt the grotesque transformation that was unfolding before their eyes.

The creature's body began to balloon grotesquely, its spine elongating, snapping and reforming, while more arms and legs jutted out from its torso at unnatural angles. With every new limb that emerged, the creature's skin tore and stretched, leaking black, oily fluid. The heads of the worshippers fused into the abomination's flesh, their mouths twisted into permanent screams, eyes bulging grotesquely as they were absorbed into the new body.

A stench of decay filled the air, choking them as the creature became something else—something far worse than anything Vas had imagined. Its body swelled with terrifying speed, now standing impossibly tall, its arms writhing like serpents, with hundreds of misshapen fingers clawing at the air. Its face, if it could even be called that anymore, was a horrific amalgamation of the worshippers' faces, their eyes open, unblinking, staring in every direction as if eternally trapped in their own hell.

The thing let out a guttural, inhuman roar that reverberated through the ruins, shaking the very ground. Vas and Anya staggered, struggling to stay upright as the force of the sound crashed over them like a tidal wave.

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"Vas!" Anya shouted, grabbing his arm. "We have to go—now!"

But Vas was rooted to the spot, his eyes locked on the horror before him. This was no longer a creature. It was a monster. A god. The true Hekatonkheires had been born again, its body a nightmarish fusion of flesh, bone, and pure, chaotic energy. Its many heads turned slowly, its countless eyes scanning the ruins with malevolent intent, the mouths twitching in silent screams.

Then, all at once, the creature's heads turned toward them.

Vas's heart froze. "Run."

They bolted, their feet pounding against the stone floor as they sprinted away from the abomination. Behind them, the Hekatonkheires let out a guttural, otherworldly bellow, the sound vibrating through their bones. The ground trembled violently as the monstrosity took its first steps, each footfall shaking the earth, sending rocks and debris tumbling from the ancient pillars.

The temple began to collapse around them, but the Hekatonkheires continued to grow, its body expanding, consuming the space as it lumbered toward them. The air grew thick with the scent of decay, a choking, putrid stench that made their eyes water and their stomachs churn. Vas glanced back once, and what he saw nearly made him stumble—a sea of writhing, malformed limbs, clawing and tearing at the stone as the god-beast surged forward, hungry for destruction.

"We can't outrun it!" Anya shouted, her voice barely audible over the deafening roar of the creature.

Vas's mind raced, searching for an escape, a plan—anything. He could feel the weight of the Hekatonkheires' gaze on his back, its malevolent power pressing down on him like a physical force. They had to get out. They had to survive.

But as the ruin crumbled around them and the monstrosity surged ever closer, Vas realized something terrifying: the true gods were not just coming back to this world—they were already here. And there was no telling if they could ever be stopped.

Vas's mind raced as he observed the hulking mass of the Hekatonkheires, its monstrous form writhing and heaving as if it were barely able to contain the raw power within. It was unstable. The grotesque fusion of limbs and flesh looked ready to tear apart at any moment. Realizing this might be their only chance, he summoned his chakrams with a flick of his wrist, the deadly weapons materializing in a blur of motion.

"Anya!" Vas barked, his voice sharp with urgency. "Get them to safety, now! I'll handle this."

Anya hesitated for only a second, her eyes darting between the nightmare before them and the unconscious forms of the kids,, tied to the pillars moments ago. She nodded, her jaw set in determination, and began dragging the others, one by one, to the edges of the ruin.

Vas didn't wait for a response. He had to act fast.

He unleashed his chakrams with deadly precision, sending them whirling through the air. The glowing discs sliced through the thick tendons and grotesque limbs of the abomination, aiming for the creature's joints to weaken its stability. The beast roared in pain, its misshapen arms flailing wildly as it tried to regain control of its faltering body. But Vas knew he couldn't rely on brute force alone.

With a deep breath, he summoned El Hilo del Destino—a shimmering thread of energy that connected his soul to the chaotic forces around him. It coiled around the creature like a lasso, anchoring the abomination in place. The ground beneath them rumbled as Vas summoned Garra del Abismo—sharp, abyssal claws of pure darkness that shot up from the earth, digging into the creature's limbs, holding it down, restraining it.

The Hekatonkheires struggled against the binds, its many mouths howling in fury. Vas gritted his teeth, every muscle in his body straining to keep the creature anchored. It was an overwhelming force, the sheer energy it emitted threatening to tear him apart. But he couldn't let go, not yet.

Anya was moving quickly, pulling the unconscious bodies of Aleara, Beck, Amy, and the others toward safety. Her breaths were ragged as she dragged the last of them, adrenaline surging through her. She glanced back at Vas, her heart pounding.

"Hurry!" she called, her voice echoing across the ruins. "We can't hold it much longer!"Vas's chakrams slashed through more of the beast's tendons, severing limb after grotesque limb. But the more damage he dealt, the more the creature seemed to grow, new arms and legs sprouting from its writhing mass as it absorbed the flesh and energy of the sacrificial followers. The monster's form was falling apart, yet somehow, impossibly, it continued to regenerate.