Yes! Yes! Little Dorian! You can do this! Drink deeply, young one, be what you were meant to be! You are the last Priorius born, the last hope for the valley, the last hope to keep the world from being infected! You are the answer, become born again! Bring down the might of those that gave you heart unto those that would do you harm! Bring manifest your blessings, granted by Atlas and Selene. Make whole your family, child of Perses, child of Eurybia! Give him the reckoning he has hidden from, free us from the Bacchus!

Dorian was screaming with his whole body, pain, light and power reverberating through his essence. It came layered, fractured, one moment he was human, the next, something else entirely. His body convulsed beneath the crushing weight of the Technum, runes burrowing into his flesh like a living brand.

He thrashed, but resistance was futile; the runes flowed to him, into him, through him. Each one searing into his skin like molten iron. The agony was blinding, but beneath it, something else stirred. A warmth. A force. Light.

He gasped as it surged through him, swallowing the pain, flooding into the cracks of his soul. He let it in, embracing all of it as one. The staff impaling his chest shuddered, twisted. It shifted, not outward, but inward, merging with him like a missing piece snapping into place. The wound vanished. He was whole.

And still, the runes came. Crawling, clawing, devouring him, pressing on his mind and compelling him to absolute rage.

Dorian staggered, his body a vessel barely containing the raw forces tearing through him. The weight of a falling mountain. That’s what it felt like. The arena, the stands, the very foundation of this place, the runes were pulling it all into him, as if he had become their center. They were drawn to his power like iron to a lodestone. He would not be buried.

He seized his Gia, gripping it tighter than ever before. More. He needed more. He pulled from the runes, from the air, from the ground beneath him. It all hummed, a pressure so immense that the space around him began to warp.

The levees holding him back, they weakened, the faintest trickling of water through a damn. As the resistance wavered, he surged. Power rushed outward in a brilliant, blinding detonation of light. The runes shattered, their bindings torn free in an explosion of raw force. Free, and yet-

Before he could catch his breath, something else took hold.

The light was blinding, but not unexpected. Dorian was glowing, and he was alive! And, holy hell, was he alive! He hooted, filled with disbelief.

After shielding his eyes from the flash, he squinted to see Dorian rise on stilts of Shade. It happened quickly, but Dorian had risen to stand eye level with the Elder. His words echoed through the Colosseum, though not in the gentle way voices had carried in a match, no this was a booming voice, one that wasn't Dorian's. It wasn’t a scream, nor a voice. A resonance.

Low at first, deep, ancient, unshakable. Then rising, layered, echoing, growing in strength. It wasn’t spoken or sung. It was declared.

“Johann of the Valley, bearer of stolen light:

You were chosen to guard.

You opened the gates.

You were given trust.

You forged it into chains.

You were meant to lead.

You made yourself a god.”

Kurt felt his knees weaken. Each word vibrated in his chest, in his skull, in his very bones. It wasn’t a voice in his head, it was will bending reality to truth. Dorian, no, Ohmer, spoke again, his voice now carrying something beyond mortal understanding.

“You were given a chance to be better, Johann. You chose to betray. Now, let the cost be paid.”

Kurt watched in horror as tendrils of squirming Shade began to flow around the Elder. Then more, and more, until there was no longer any kind of shape to the figure. Instead, an amalgam of tendrils had replaced him, writhing and pulsing, seemingly drinking in the light from the surroundings.

"Too late, Ohmer! Too late! Do you not feel it? They have drunk of me, swallowed my dark, made me their vessel! And soon the reservoir will burst! And when it does, it will drown you all!

He paused then, his body plainly shaking. “Now you come to take from me? To rob me of my final pleasures? No, no, I will not be taken. I will not be undone!” The blackness shifted off of the Elder's body, then began expanding. Lifting upwards, his silhouette was lost to the sun, then it was the sun lost to the silhouette. It was pure Kraken, and had to be larger than the arena floor Kurt stood upon.

Kurt turned to the sound of hurried footsteps towards him. Turning, it was Quena.

“What are you-”

“Shut up, Kurt! What the fuck is happening?”

Kurt hesitated. He didn’t know. He looked up at the burning figure, the stilts of Shade, the thing that wasn’t Dorian anymore. "I think… I think that's his Garru."

"That’s not his Garru, you idiot! The Elder called him Ohmer—" she sucked in a sharp breath. "Gods… but I never really believed it."

Kurt turned fully to face her, jaw tightening. "What do you mean?"

"There was only ever one Ohmer, Kurt. The one chosen to lead us when the world was reborn. And his first successor was Johann."

She looked up at the colossus of writhing tendrils, her face drained of color. "Johann betrayed him. Killed him. Imprisoned his spirit so he couldn’t get out."

Kurt swallowed, forcing himself to look back up at the nightmare above them. "It looks to me like he found a way-"

He stopped. The world went dark. The light vanished, blotted out by something massive above them. They lifted their eyes as one.

The sky was gone. A swirling monstrosity of tendrils choked out the sun. Ethereal. Weightless. Dread began to fill him.

Ohmer wasn't Ohmer. Not the fuzzy creature he had nurtured back to health. Not the affable Garru that took food from his hands when he wasn't looking. No, Ohmer was something much much more. The gaps in Dorian’s knowledge were shared openly between them, his mind flooded with memories. The sudden onslaught of information clicked into place, suddenly Dorian understood. Well, mostly.

The memories were blurry, like seeing through murky water, but the truth hit hard: Ohmer had been the first Elder, chosen by the three. Dorian didn't fully grasp what "the three" meant, there was a difference between the Gods they worshiped and what Ohmer had seen. He could feel that distinction, though it was too vast, too foreign to comprehend in this moment.

But what mattered now was the brutality of it all. Johann, Ohmer’s pupil. His trusted advisor.

His murderer.

Johann had betrayed him, had ripped his memories from his dying mind and spat them back out, leaving his corpse to rot beside the reservoir. That was the worst of it, the reservoir.

The strongest time dilation ever made, or at least one of them. Time twisted there, a distortion so deep that the time had nearly stopped there by comparison. Ohmer's corpse was still down there. For all the millenniums that had passed, it was likely only a few hours old.

When Johann inherited the power of his predecessor’s office, he found luxury in his abuse of power. Many years later, having just barely touched the perversion that was the parasite of Bacchus, his will had slowly been bent. Slowly, but inevitably, Johann gave way to the smallest bit of Bacchus, bargained with it to preserve his own life. Now, Bacchus was unleashed upon the valley, though Dorian had a sneaking suspicion that the entity was nervous. Not scared necessarily but certainly threatened.

Now, the mass had coiled out of Johann's, Ken's, body. Seeing his friend there, seething at the mouth filled Dorian with a mixture of dread, worry, heartache, and rage. Johann twitched, not unlike a seizure, then fell limp to the ground.

“I'm sorry for the deception, Dorian.” Ohmer said in Dorian's mind.

“I think you already know it's okay.” Though he sent the words, his jaw clenched.

“Yes, but I had to say it. I am ready, thanks to you. I'm going to battle it now, Dorian, with your blessing of course.” Dorian gave a mental grunt in affirmation. “Then, if you wish to save your people, you have a task. You must cleanse all present from the taint.”

A realization washed across Dorian. The food, the God's damned food!

“Yes.” Ohmer chuckled in his mind, and it felt grizzled. “It reminds me of one of the old religions, you must wash away their sins.” Dorian would have scratched his head, if he weren't so intent on the conversation at hand.

“Oh, no bother. Dorian, cleanse them with the light, and contain what has been washed. We need to return every bit of Bacchus to the reservoir, either by cleansing or death. Do you understand?”

Dorian understood and had a damn good idea as to how to do it.

Kurt watched as Dorian lowered himself down, the mass of Shade siphoning back into his torso like water vanishing into a sinkhole. Even after using his own Shade, it was still damn unsettling to see it disappear like that.

“Kurt,” Dorian sent to him, mind to mind. “How are you?”

Kurt exhaled, letting a grin slip onto his face. “A sight better now, little brother.” Kurt replied mentally.

“I'm sorry for the scare, but we can cover that later. Can you fight?”

“Yeah, but you tagged me pretty good in our match.” Kurt replied as he held his thigh tightly.

“I can stop the bleeding, but anymore and you might pass out. We're going to need you Kurt,” the message was sent with a weight, but accompanying it, excitement.

“Dorian, you really did sign us up for something incredibly stupid, didn't you?” Kurt sent back, remembering a younger, pudgier Dorian.

Landing in front of Kurt, Dorian smiled and said, “Yes. Yes, I really did.” For a moment, nothing else mattered. They stood there, staring at each other, a lifetime apart, for Dorian, but now together, both changed, both stronger. Kurt didn’t fight it, he grabbed his brother and pulled him into a hug, ignoring the rest of the world. Then a second pair of arms wrapped around them, suddenly they were off their feet.

“My sons! My sons are the greatest in the valley!” Rand shook them once, as though he were still weightless children. His broad chest vibrated with laughter, and he squeezed hard enough that Dorian wondered if they had any Smith blood in them. “Rita! Oh, there you are-” Rand cut off as he was shoved away by Rita. She had a start before embracing them both. She was sobbing openly. Her face flushed, she seemed a mess, but she also seemed utterly relieved.

“My boys-,” she managed to choke out, the two brothers embracing her together, she went slack. “I thought I'd lost,” she paused before muttering, “no, no, not the time.” She drew herself back, took a breath and let it out slow. When she opened her eyes, she was once again Rita Hunt.

Rit reached out and pulled Dorian down by his bloodstained tunic. “And you! Let me have a look at you.” She tilted her head from side to side, assessing. After the briefest moment, she broke, grinning a very familiar grin. “Hey! That's mine!” Kurt said in Dorian’s head.

“It was her's first,” Dorian replied mentally, then added, “sorry, forgot to shut it off.”

Kurt had forgotten about that too and sent, “don't. I can deal until this is over.”

“Mom, I'm glad to see you, but we don't have a lot of time. Is my little sister safe?” Dorian asked aloud.

She looked to Rand then back to Dorian, “Teresa? Yeah, she's in the nursery, but I don't know who's with her.”

“It's okay, I can take care of that from here.” Dorian glowed faintly for a moment, eyes bright green like looking at the sun through a thin leaf. “Okay, the nursery is blocked off, and I've cleansed the ones inside.”

“Teresa?” Rand asked, sounding confused.

“Your daughter,” Rita replied nonplussed.

Dorian looked to his father, tilting his head slightly and noting something off. “Did you do that, Kurt? By Gwendos, he doesn't remember a thing most the time, does he?”

“Yeah, how'd you know?”

Before a reply came, Dorian shot a channel of light to their father and Kurt, then he pulled something out of Kurt and it became liquefied in the light. It circled their father a few times and slowly merged in with his body. Rand took a shuddering breath.

“By the light of creation.” Rand groaned and bent to a knee, holding his head.

Rita was there in a moment. “Rand? What's wrong?”

Dorian let his hand fall, the light flickering out as he did. “He'll be much better in a moment. Listen, we have some things to take care of and I don't have time to go into full detail. I'm going to give you a focus, and a memory. I'm sorry, but this is going to be abrupt.”

A new light coalesced, covering both Rand and Rita. Dorian seemed to shake, as did the light. Two shining motes floated to their parents and buried themselves in to their chests. They gasped, Rita taking to her knees now too.

Kurt was surprised as his parents were. “What did you give them?”

“Teaching them how to grip Gia and Shade, but not like you. Too risky,” Dorian looked pensive as he lowered his hand, light winking out alongside it.

A keening was sounding from above, the sky now completely eclipsed by the writhing mass. The sound was urgent, as though the amalgam was growing impatient. A call from the abyss.

Dorian went rigid. “Is that a challenge?!” Dorian called, though it wasn't his voice nor his accent.

“Oh shit, Kurt. We really don't have a lot of time,” Dorian sent to him. It was faster that way.

“Protect me, don't let anyone near me while he's getting out. He's… sort of mooching my humanity at the moment.”

“Mooching your what?” Kurt asked, sounding incredulous.

Dorian smirked. “I'm going to do a mass sending before I begin, but when I do we might run in to some... uh, problems.” Dorian said, aloud for all to hear.

“I can do a better mass sending, what do you want to say?” Came Quena, who up until then wasn't paying any attention to them.

Dorian turned his head slowly and stared at Quena. He replied with the most condescending look Kurt had ever seen. One eyebrow quivered, then quirked upwards, his smirk following in order. It was a masterpiece.

Very loud in Kurt's head, Dorian's voice boomed.

Before beginning, Dorian sent a wave of healing through Kurt, following it with a thread of his own Gia. It was easy, as everything made sense now. Not just Gia and Shade, all of it. The Primes, their positives and negatives. How they weren’t separate, but facets of something larger. Not a pie chart, but a shifting spectrum, infinite in potential, pulsing with pure life.

One memory, not his, but Ohmer’s, held the history of Gia itself, how it had first touched this world. Dorian wanted to know, but this place and time wasn’t for learning. At that moment, all he could think was, there is much work to do.

He gripped the light side of his telepathy Prime, siphoning out all Shade. Then, drawing from the local Gia, he opened his mind. And the world listened.

Every living creature within twenty miles felt his presence. Gratefully, Ohmer took the lead and spoke, as Dorian didn’t have the first clue of what to say. A voice, ancient and unshakable, thundered through every mind.

“Descendants! Hear me. Hold and take heed. Our sins have come to the light, given flesh, hovers now to break you from the very light you have sought.” He paused. “Your Elders have lied.” He took another moment to let that sink in.

“They told you redemption lay in faith. They told you to fall in line, to live and die as your foremothers decreed. But our faith, our trust, was the key that let the parasite in. That parasite has consumed us. It will end us this day. All hangs in the balance. Not just your life, but the lives of all you know and love.” Dorian’s light was brilliant, changing in hues of deep to bright green.

“The thing above us, our Elder, our Sin! It intends to slaughter us all, to break into the world in truth! Do not faulter for it was my blindness that allowed it.”There was a long, searing pause.

Then, softer, but no less powerful, “I am Ohmer. The first Elder. Chosen by the three. For twenty-five thousand years, I have waited. And now, I will take my vengeance, but can’t do this alone.”

Dorian felt something shift, an unraveling inside him, like a bond gently slipping free. Ohmer was leaving.

The warmth, the weight, the thread of something ancient, started pulling away.

“I cast off my humanity one last time,” Ohmer’s voice rumbled. “And I go now to face the beast above. Dorian will remain. He will guide you. For those brave enough, the time has come to step forward. Now.”

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

Kurt watched as Dorian waved several others away as the mental shout was heard. No, not heard, wracked with.

The light shone brightly as Dorian gripped his source, Kurt could feel the residual Gia in the earth and air around them begin to siphon to Dorian. Stone creaked as the walls to the arena floor became ramps. Dorian mentally shouted once more saying, “behold! For the three are merciful, they sent us a gift as Bacchus entered this world, his antithesis, his nemesis. I have been with this creature since it's birth, our essences uniting in divine purpose! Basque in the splendor of their sublime will!”

Dorian began twisting, shuddering, then groaning. As he fell to a knee, hand extended, something, a paw, climbed out of his back. Then another came, swelling as they went, the light not painful to look at for whatever reason.

The head emerged, not quite lion, nor wolf, nor bear, but something that could have given birth to each. Its broad maw and jagged teeth open wide for all to see, swelling in size as it seemed to grow out of Dorian's mostly blocked body. Finally, the beast emerged, fully the size of Kurt's home. Still it swelled, growing larger and larger, its eyes fixed on the sky above.

Now that the creature stood in full, Kurt took it in—the black stripes rippling down the sides of its mixed reddish coat. Its tail was lupine, yet its maw was unmistakably leonine, something that might haunt children’s dreams if not for the odd serenity it carried.

Then, it drew breath and roared. The ground trembled beneath Kurt’s feet. The Colosseum shuddered, the sheer force of the sound rippling through the stone. And still, it grew.

Dorian lay prone beneath it, nothing more than a distant speck against the vast blue sky. Finally, the beast settled on its haunches. Kurt had to crick his neck to take in its full height. Even seated, it filled half the arena floor, and now, its head stood nearly as tall as the Colosseum itself.

Then, it turned its gaze downward.

Dorian stirred, shook his head, then reached out and patted Ohmer’s side. At his touch, the black stripes shifted. They flowed like ink, converging at the center of its back, coalescing into something new.

Abruptly, wings of Shade burst forth. Not feathers. Not flesh. Intricately lined, jagged hooks, each a perfect reflection of Dorian’s own Shade.

They glimmered, though Kurt doubted many here would truly understand what they were seeing. Then came another roar even louder this time. The force of it was so powerful that one of the balconies collapsed. With a single mighty beat of its wings, Ohmer took flight, heading straight for Bacchus.

It wasn't more than a heartbeat before Kurt found himself running for his little brother. People had already begun to run down the makeshift ramps Dorian had configured, Kurt wanted to get to his brother before anyone else had.

“Dorian, what do we do now?!”

Kurt’s voice cut through the chaos, but his brother wasn’t looking at him. Dorian was still staring skyward. Kurt followed his gaze, his breath catching as the colossal beasts met in the air.

Ohmer clamped his jaws onto one of Bacchus’s massive writhing tentacles, using it to pivot his bulk with uncanny precision. Then, with a brutal twist, he drove his hind legs forward, gouging into the mass of blackened flesh, raking deep, bloody trenches with claws the size of men.

The two titans spun, twisting midair, then vanished beyond view. A second later, the ground buckled beneath Kurt’s feet. The Colosseum shuddered. A fight between Gods had begun.

“Kurt! Defend yourself!” Dorian’s voice snapped him back to the moment. It took Kurt a second to process the words, just a second, which was too long.

If not for Quena following behind, the woman charging at Kurt would have cut him in two. Her black eyes gleamed in the broken sunlight now that Bacchus had been dragged from the sky. Her blade of Shade was already mid-swing. Then, faster than he could follow, her head wasn’t attached anymore.

It spun skyward, hit the sand with a wet thud, then rolled to a stop. Kurt staggered back, staring. “W-w-what the fuck, Quena?!”

“Kill them or cleanse them, Kurt!” she snapped, already stepping forward to meet another foe. “Or they’ll swarm us. I’ve seen this before, hurry!”

Kurt forced himself to breathe. He gripped the source inside him, the light of life that burned at his core, and drew out his Shade. It unfurled from him, forming into a staff of interlocked black and silver.

Now he saw it. The ones pouring down the ramps, rushing into the arena floor, they weren’t running like people. Their movements were erratic, their limbs snapping too quickly, bending too far. They moved with reckless abandon, but with one purpose, to kill.

Kurt lashed out, sending waves of light to burn the corruption away, but there were too many. Far, far too many.

“Dorian!” he roared. “Do something, or we’re going to be overrun!” Then he set his stance, lifted his staff, and charged the nearest enemy. This day wasn’t over yet, not by a long shot.

Dorian sent through his bracelet, “Are you safe, Ingrid?”

"Yes! Dorian, what in seven hells is going on? I just saw a giant crawl out of you and take off flying, and now everyone’s losing their shit! Half of them are looking at me with black eyes, and," her mental communication hitched. "Dorian, I don’t scare easy, but this is freaking me the fuck out.” She sounded desperate. That wasn’t like her. Dorian might have laughed if the situation wasn’t so unbelievably dire.

"It’s going to be okay. Where are you? I need your help for this next part, probably Malik too."

"Malik? I think I saw him in the-" A shriek tore through the bracelet. Fuck.

Dorian clenched his fists. No hesitation. "Kurt!" he roared. "I’m calling for Moder—watch your step!" He turned toward the chaos, eyes burning. Amplifying his sending, he didn’t just speak—he roared through the ether.

"Moder! If ever there was a time to get a rise from you, it’s now! Get your wretched ass out here—haven’t you waited long enough?!"

The ground shuddered. Dorian didn’t wait to see what would follow. Shade exploded from his back, launching him skyward as he flung himself toward Ingrid’s last position.

"Ingrid! Give me a heat flare!" He wasn’t sure if she heard him, despite their mental link, but then, fire erupted from the grandstand, cutting through the mass of writhing bodies below. There!

Dorian surged forward, vaulting higher, extending Shade like tendrils of pure force. As he soared above the chaos, he opened his Gia, channeling pure light downward. The Colosseum lit up in white fire. A massive spiral of cleansing energy washed over the stands, turning pale green, then deep emerald, then fading back into him. He felt it sinking into the twisted souls below, peeling away corruption like stripping flesh from bone. He dropped.

Bodies scattered like broken dolls as he tore through them. Dorian wasn’t gentle. He flung them away with telekinesis, Shade, raw strength, whatever got them the fuck out of his way. If she even had a single scratch…I will smite the lot of you until there is nothing left but ash. Then, finally, he saw her. Ingrid.

Dorian bent to grab her, but she slapped his hand away.

"I can help myself, thank you," she huffed, still breathless, dignified as ever. Dorian laughed. Then he picked her up anyway. His movements were abrupt but gentle. He lifted her like she was something precious, something vital, something that would never be touched by harm.

"Put me down, you ass!" she hissed, beating at his chest. She was so small in his arms, his hands wrapping around her like, she was as light as a feather. He didn’t put her down.

Instead, Shade lashed out from his back and sides, anchoring him to the shattered grandstand. At the same time, he flung them skyward with telekinesis, launching them both high enough to see the entire battlefield. Below them, the Colosseum was in ruin.

At the edge of the forest, trees toppled as the two great beasts clashed. Ohmer was hurled backward but rolled with the impact, his back legs kicking out like a lion raking its prey. The force sent Bacchus flying, hurtling through the sky toward the distant mountains. For a moment, everything slowed.

Dorian held Ingrid tight. He met her eyes, and his insides melted. The world below, the war raging around them, it all blurred away.

"I should probably mention," he sent, his voice brushing her mind, "I’m not as weak as I thought. Turns out-"

She cut him off. She grabbed his collar and kissed him so hard it nearly knocked him stupid. For a moment, he forgot they were falling. The only thing that mattered was her.

Then reality slammed back in. He caught them, telekinesis bracing their descent just before impact. The ground trembled beneath their feet. This time, it wasn’t from Ohmer or Bacchus. The earth itself began to rise.

Kurt was moving like he never had before. Darting in and out, cleansing where he could but for the most part it was kill or be killed. He smiled to himself as he thought, not much different from home.

As he twisted and turned, flung darkness and light, the ground began shaking. It wasn't like it had been when the two titans came together, no, the ground beneath them was stirring. When it began to rise beneath his feet he shouted, “Quena, hang on!”

Kurt bounded to her, she was still fighting as the rise began. He thought he spotted Dorian up above them towards the center of the rise, was he cradling someone? No matter, deal with it when you can.

Quena had one person on top of her and another behind, the person behind was a Kressian woman, black hair offset to the frothing white coming from her mouth. Kurt bashed in the man on top of Quena and sent cleansing through her to the woman that had her arrested. When his Gia met hers, he had the oddest sense of vertigo, as though he could feel Quena but from a first person's perspective. Just as quickly as it came, it went. Kurt picked her up over his shoulder, turned, and began to climb as the ground lifted ever higher.

“Let me down you oafish fool! Damn you!” Quena swore right in his ear, so he dropped her and not kindly. She let out all of her air with a “whoosh” followed by a gasp.

“Damn it, Kurt! I'm a lady,-” Kurt snorted, then she continued after glaring daggers at him, “not a sack of potatoes.” She finished, sounding calmer but far more dangerous.

“Well, m'lady, could you tell me what the fuck is going on? Why sixty foot of earth just decided to rise in the middle of the arena, why the hell everyone is trying to kill us, and what the fuck are we doing about it?!” Kurt gestured as he began picking up speed, he didn't mean to but he ended with a shout.

Abruptly, the earth beneath them shook and rose, suddenly both were launched upwards as they rode a platform of stone. Distantly, a massive animal was thrown through the peak of a mountain, the mountaintop giving way like a fallen vase.

Turning his vision, he spotted a small group of people above him, but they were growing close at an alarming rate. As they rose to be on even ground an abrupt shift spilled them on to the earth there. Kurt rolled twice before coming to a stop, but Quena had managed a single roll coming out on to her feet. She held her crescent blade extended to Dorian's neck, her stance speaking of violence she said, “what are you?”

Dorian held her glare, nobody moving despite the clatter and chaos below. “You know what I am, Quena. Don't pretend.” His eyes flashed green.

“Then which one are you? Hmm? Are you Jakom? Nelsa? Phebe? Tell me who you are, betrayer.”

Dorian looked confused and hesitated before saying, “I don't know those people. I am Dorian, and this is my first time around.” Dorian stepped slightly into the blade, with unbelievable speed the crescent shape shifted to a hook and sucked right in to Dorian. “There, that's better.” Dorian smiled to Quena then moved to help Kurt up. Quena hadn't budged, just glared. Kurt took the aid as Dorian sent, “what's got her nip in a twist?”

Kurt replied with a mental shrug, though was careful not to actually shrug. Quena wouldn't have liked that, no, not one bit. “Quena, what's your deal? It's my little brother, I told you all about him.”

“Yes, you told me. If I believed every lie that came out of men's mouths over the years, I'd have died a lot more often. You can't expect me to believe-” She cut off as Dorian put a hand up.

“Quena, I'm none from the, what was it, Arcanum? Yes.” Dorian nodded putting his hand down. “I've never lived before this. Like I said, this is my first time around.” He shrugged.

She shook her head, “no, no, I don't believe that either. We were all there in the beginning, even if we never lived together again, we were all there when this started. Within the first two or three hundred years of the Elder taking control. You weren't there, and there haven't been any newborn since. I can't believe you.”

“The thing about knowledge over something, is that when it becomes false you don't have any response. It's something you're unprepared for. I think I'm here for, err rather, because of Bacchus, he didn't expect me either.” Dorian nodded once and turned. “We don't have time for this now anyways. Quena, we're going to need your help. Moder told me you want out, well, if we do this right, you'll get that.” Dorian held for a moment. “Please.” He said without any ambling.

Quena's mouth twisted for a moment, but she finally said, “okay, but-”

“Great, now we might want to move.”

“What-”

Holes began to appear in the earth all across the rise, Kurt could sense something going on underneath them and was more certain when a hole appeared in front of Quena. Moder crawled out, looking haggard, repulsive, and in pain. Kurt had never seen him happier.

Coughing, Moder said, “little Dorian.” He smiled a wan smile that was mostly forced. “I think I'm dying.” He smiled, part of his lip looked like it had been mangled by a great cat.

“So, he's doing well?” Dorian asked, and Moder nodded, so Dorian continued. “I'm going to cleanse the people, I have a good idea of how to get it done. Oh, Moder, meet my better half, Ingrid.”

Ingrid's eyes were wide, and Kurt laughed with an abrasive “ha!” Everyone stopped and stared at him for a moment. Quietly, Kurt said, “I reacted the same way, once. I'm Kurt, I've heard next to nothing about you, and I'm sorry.” Kurt put his hand out and shook Ingrid's before she had a chance to react in any way.

“Sorry for?”

“That you picked the silver instead of gold.” Kurt said as he looked at Dorian, smirking that asinine smirk.

“Hey, as far as I can tell, the match still isn't over.” Dorian commented as he rubbed the back of his head. “This is my brother, Kurt.”

“Your brother? You can't know that, none of us remember our families.”

“Bacchus isn't what stripped me of my memories, I did that all by myself.”

“All k-k-by your-k-self?” Moder asked, incredulous despite his slurred speech.

“Okay, I had help, but still. Oh, this is Moder, he's kind of exactly the opposite from what he looks like. In his people's tongue, his name means mother.”

“He's a mother?” Ingrid asked, horror on her face.

“Krektek! Kros-sik-ta twenken!”

Dorian looked around, noting the people mindlessly climbing the lower levels of the rise, and a few friendlies nearly to the top. As Dorian turned, he nearly fell headlong into his parents.

“Gah! What the fuck is that!” Rand shouted and had to catch himself on Rita lest he fall backwards down the rise.

“Oh, Rand.” Rita said shaking her head after she helped to balance the overweight Cook.

“Oh, shit. Uh, sorry to make this all of a sudden, and it's probably not the time, but Ingrid, I'd like you to meet my parents.” Dorian turned her shoulders to face them, and though Kurt couldn't see her face, his parent’s faces were priceless. Rita wore an expression that said, “not bad,” meanwhile, Rand looked like he was about to grab Dorian by the shoulder and say, “boy, you've made me proud!” Dorian was red in the face, and Kurt guessed his girl was much the same.

“Parents, Ingrid, Ingrid, Rand Cook and Rita Hunt.” Dorian gestured.

Ingrid snapped her fingers, “I finally get it. Hook! But why didn't you go by-”

“Don't say it!” Dorian and Kurt said together. Crises averted.

Coming up the hill, a tall lanky boy groaned as he made it to the top. “Hey, I'd hate to be the one to say it, but does anyone see the writhing mass of human bodies below that are trying to kill us? Maybe we could-”

Dorian embraced him. “Benny! You made it! Thank the Gods, what about Malik?”

“He's just behind me, I thought I was out of shape, but that guy must by pampered.” He stopped, looking wide eyed at Moder. “Dorian, what is that?”

“That is my dear friend, and I'd appreciate it if you weren't a dick to him. Speaking of people being dicks, have you seen Jack?”

He nodded, “he was with his girl, they're holed up but safe last time I checked.”

“Oh, where are they, maybe I can-”

“Your rooms.”

Dorian scowled. Face shifting abruptly he said, “Okay, so here's the plan. Gia-bomb.”

“What?” Kurt asked.

“Exactly what I said, I can do it if I can get Malik and Ingrid to help me. What I need is safety until we can get there. Are you all ready? This is going to take some time.”

Kurt, all bravado said, “I'll fight, but what in seven hells is a blum?”

“Oh right, sorry, old world words are getting a bit jumbled in my nugget. An explosion. Should cleanse everyone, but we'll need to absorb whatever comes out.” Dorian shook his head. “It doesn't matter right now, can you keep us safe while we do this?”

“Aren't you forgetting something, Boy?” Came a familiar voice. Then a different familiar voice snapped, “I can't have my shining student standing against the darkness alone, now, can I?”

Turning, Dorian got to see the look on his mother's face when sister Brenda approached. It was priceless shock, though Dorian didn't have the first idea what.

The two woman stood eye level, and now that they stood so close, he came to a realization.

“Hussy.” His mother said, staring the Sister in the eye.

“Harlot.” Brenda replied just as levelly. Then they embraced, and it all made sense as a soft sob escaped one of them. Holy shit! Sister Brenda is my aunt!

“He was my star student first!” Rand said as he approached Brother Michael. The two men were obviously not related, though there was something to the look in their eyes to say they knew each other.

“Hey son, I'd like you to meet the man who taught me the spear. Meet Brother Michael-”

A hand went up as the man replied, “just Michael now.” He held his hand up and a thin ring displayed on his left hand.

The two woman croaked a sob, so Kurt chimed in. “You guys, this is sincere and all, but probably not the time! Is anyone going to do anything about the black-eyed goons that want to kill, and or eat us? Perhaps fornicate with our corpses a little?”

“Kurt?! What is wrong with you?” Quena asked incredulously.

“What?! They want to kill us, how are we going to stop every person in the valley?”

“K-k-I think I k-k-k-can help there. Kul!”

Through the holes, countless black shapes crawled out, disfigured, all shapes and sizes, with sharp teeth and pointed nose, they screeched a howl unlike any living thing in the valley.

Benny looked about, wide eyed, and loudly whimpered, “maybe I should have stayed with Jack.”

Dorian wasn’t ready for this, but ready or not, the time had come.

In the distance, the titans clashed. Their battle scarred the valley, reshaping it with every blow. Dorian had little doubt that most of the hills separating the Wilds and Kresson had been ground to dust.

Yet, their fight wasn’t just physical. Streams of force surged between them, invisible but relentless, locking the other down. Dorian could feel Ohmer giving everything to break Bacchus’s hold, while at the same time fighting tooth and claw to stop Bacchus from shattering his own defenses. That Ohmer could even move under that strain was staggering. That he could fight like all seven hells were at his door? Unbelievable.

Now, too, Dorian could feel it, the ever-so-slight difference between Ohmer and the spirit beast. Whatever it was, it was as much a part of Ohmer as anything could be, yet… there was the smallest divide.

Ohmer was the mass, the core, the dominant force within their bond. But beneath that, buried deep like an ember beneath ash, something else lingered. Something ancient. Something… other.

It didn’t matter right now, though Dorian made a mental note about it. He hadn’t just bound himself to Ohmer. He had bound himself to Ohmer and this other entity. The thought was unsettling, but through their bond, Dorian could tell that this creature wasn’t driven by violence or malice. It was a blank slate. A force without intent. That, at least, was reassuring.

What mattered now were the people standing beside him.

Ingrid, Quena, and Malik stood at the top of the rise with him. Below them, gathered at the base of their refuge, was the last bastion of hope. Dorian reached out, attempting to lift them all higher, to reshape their hillock into a tower above the chaos. Something resisted. Something held them in place.

The Kul? Maybe. He couldn’t be sure, but at that moment, their immediate safety was secondary to the ones still trapped in Bacchus’s grip. Below them, on the next ring of the rise, stood Kurt, his parents, his teachers, and a few who had resisted the infection. On the lowest ring, the Kul held the front line, standing between the possessed and those still fighting for their lives.

The scene below was chaos. Not mindless chaos, something worse. The infected moved in unison. Perfect, fluid, impossible unison. Each surge of bodies rippled through the mass, folding seamlessly into the next, pressing forward like a tide. No human army could match that level of coordination. No amount of training could produce that kind of hive mind efficiency.

It would be minutes before they ripped through the last line of defense. Minutes before they were overwhelmed. Lucky for them, Dorian had a plan.

The construct Dorian had shaped before them was beyond difficult, it was a feat of intricate precision. Using Shade, he wove the runes together, interlocking them in a way that would amplify the Gia they funneled through it. Every line, every symbol, designed for synergy.

He had linked with the other three, not a bond, not like Ohmer. More like a conduit, granting him access to their reserves. No thoughts were exchanged. No emotions. Just power.

Even combined, their raw energy paled against his. Dorian’s strength eclipsed them all. He also knew, without his bond to Ohmer, only Quena would have outmatched him.

He needed their will. It was hard to explain, like bending metal into just the right shape to forge something impossible. Like building log houses as a child, except there were no pre-cut slots, he had to force the pieces together. To do it right, he had to shape it without Gia.

Even manipulating Shade without Gia was excruciating, a mental feat as absurd as doing backflips while juggling three newborns with one hand and dueling with the other. With their help, he could bend the pieces without cocking it all up. If he cheated, if he used Gia to aid the change, the construct wouldn’t be strong enough. It would flash once, blinding a handful of the infected, then fade into nothing. A failure. A waste. He had to do this right the first time. Nothing else mattered. Not the sweat stinging his eyes. Not Ingrid’s silent cringe. Not the white glint of Quena’s teeth, clenched in the strain of holding her mind steady.

Dorian knew what they felt because he felt it too. Shade touched his body like the palm of a giant, twisting him into unnatural contortions, stretching him in ways a man shouldn’t be stretched. The pain roared through him, his vision narrowing to a single searing point, until a new agony cut through the first.

A hot, wet sting bloomed in his gut. He looked down. The black mass lodged in his belly glinted red, blood spilling down its surface.

“No!” The voice shrieked, high and jagged, part Ken, but mostly Johann.

“Yes,” Dorian shot back, breathless.

The final pieces clicked into place. The construct was done. He turned to face his assailant, severing the mental link with the other three. The exhaustion hit instantly, roiling through him like a tidal wave, threatening to pull him under. His muscles shook, his vision swam, but he forced himself to stand tall. He met the betrayer’s gaze. Chin high. Back straight. Unyielding.

Then, warmth glowed through him, starting at his wound. It blossomed through his body, pooling where the pain had been. He didn’t need to look. He knew who it was.

Honey-colored strands had slipped loose from her braid. Her energy was spent, her body exhausted, but her will remained ironclad. Ingrid had healed him, the shard now gone.

"Thank you. I love you. Wish me luck." Dorian sent the message without words, just raw emotion, flooding into Ingrid’s mind. It was faster that way. He barely gave himself time to feel her response before turning his focus elsewhere.

“Kurt.” The mental message was crisp. “Take my place. Funnel Gia into the construct from my angle. You’ll know when you’ve got it right.”

“Oh sure, let me just fly up there-”

Dorian was already moving. He pulled together a pile of pebbles with his telekinesis, then flattened them into two smooth stone discs using his stone-shaping Prime. Even before he had reached out to Kurt, the process was already in motion. Without a word, he sent them below, slipped them neatly beneath Kurt’s feet, then launched him skyward.

“Stay still.” Dorian sent, just to be a pain in the ass.

Kurt rose effortlessly, the discs carrying him up in perfect synchronization. He barely wobbled, but still shook his head as he ascended. “You know,” he called audibly, “I hate it when you’re a smartass.”

Dorian smirked.

He embraced his brother as he landed, trying to sap any measure of mental strength from Kurt's support he could. Dorian wouldn't admit it aloud, but down at the center of his soul he was afraid. No, that didn't cover it, he was terrified.

Fingering the hole in his tunic, despite the horrid state of the rest of his attire, he frowned up at Johann after releasing his brother. He took a deep breath, feeling the life around him. His family, his friends, his love, they were all there, and he'd be damned if he let them down.

Dorian cried, “Ken! If you're still in there, I'm sorry for this!” He shouted, bent, and leaped into the sky like a bird taking to flight.