“Lancers are the universe’s solution to the blight of heretics. We were made to lead the galaxy’s fight to heal this wound, but everyone must do their part. The clashing of heretics and lancers has rang throughout history, with billions of lives hanging in the balance with each meeting of cipher with fang.”

—Ode Sihdark, current leader of the Scions of Riiva

Zaina took a few deep breaths, staring directly into Ovela’s eyes; then, focusing, Zaina reached out with her non-injured arm and summoned her cipher. She then slashed through an incoming piece of wood and clumsily rolled aside to avoid another. Bashing the next fragment away, she stumbled to her feet.

Ovela sighed. “Well, I was told you were stubborn, but not this stubborn. All right, let’s go. If I have to break you more, so be it. The Eldritch needs you alive, not well.”

With a mad shout, Zaina leaped forward, taking the initiative. She pushed into Ovela’s defenses, swinging with everything she had left—all of her attacks fell against the shimmering black fang, and though she was gaining ground, her wounds were getting worse quickly—and she was tiring out.

Ovela batted aside one of Zaina’s frenzied slashes, taking her balance; with a grin, Ovela pierced Zaina’s thighs, drawing another anguished shout. Zaina swung again, but Ovela jumped back out of range, then closed back in before Zaina re-centered her weapon—with a single swing, Ovela sliced Zaina’s arm off—the cipher scattered in midair as the limb fell to the ground with a wet thump.

Her system overloaded with shock and adrenaline, Zaina fell to one knee, her body unable to process the mixture of pain, disbelief, and energy swelling throughout it. She glanced toward the stump, a fountain of red, then back to her enemy. Ovela towered over her.

A kick snapped Zaina’s face—the back of her head hit the floor, and then the pain in her broken nose and smashed cheekbones registered. She was sprawled out, defeated. She gave a weak cry as her hair was grabbed—Zaina weakly slapped at Ovela’s hand as she was dragged over to the Eldritch’s stone.

“It didn’t have to be this way, Zaina. You chose this. But it’s okay, I forgive you.”

With a swipe of her fang, Ovela shattered the hyper-glass protecting the Eldritch’s orb. Its dark essence began to seep out, swirling around Zaina.

“Well?” Ovela said, pulling Zaina’s hair. “Kneel.”

Zaina gave another cry but was helpless to resist otherwise. Her eyes met the stone—it hovered in midair, slowly making its way toward her. An image of the Eldritch’s skull appeared on the orb’s outer surface, drawing closer—

“No!” Zaina shouted. She summoned her cipher once more—despite the injury to her shoulder, she swung wildly, landing a glancing blow on her unprepared enemy.

“Gah—why, you!”

Zaina rolled away. She struggled to stand, tripping over and then getting back up.

Ovela stalked toward her. “You don’t know when to give up, do you?”

Zaina coughed up blood. “Please—fight it, Ovela. This isn’t you…”

“Oh, please—I’m doing this for your own good!” Ovela shouted, unleashing a devastating overhead strike.

Zaina barely blocked it, but the blow’s power knocked her down again. She scrambled to stand up, but another kick slammed into her side. More pain surged from her open wound—as she rolled away, she left behind streaks of red.

Zaina took deep breaths. Shadow was creeping in from the corners of her vision, threatening to engulf her—how she was still standing, she didn’t know. The pain was unimaginable, but her instinct and will to fight on was greater—slowly, she stood to her feet, readying her sword for one last exchange.

Ovela shook her head, a disgusted expression on her face. “You’re choosing to be human when you could be a god. How pathetic.”

“I know—urgh.” Zaina coughed up blood, then continued, “I know what it promised you, but you have to know, deep down, it won’t keep its word.”

Pointing her sword, Ovela snarled, “Silence! You’re just as blind as the scholars. You should know better than anyone, Zaina, what’s coming. Nothing can stop that which fate decrees. Plagued by whispers—but did you ever actually listen to them?”

Zaina tightened her grip on the cipher. It pulsed in her hands as if responding to her will. She needed to end this fight, and quickly. As more blood poured out of her mouth, she said in a weak voice, “Please, Ovela. I don’t want to fight you. And I really don’t want to be that thing’s host.”

Ovela sneered. “Looks like either way you’re not getting what you want.”

The heretic lunged forward once more. Zaina took a deep breath to slow her rushing heartbeat—she had to be calm, focused, and act with purpose. She had to let Riiva guide her.

The dance resumed again—Ovela was faster and more precise than Zaina, who kept limping backward and ceding ground to her opponent, frantically trying to keep up a workable defense. It was all she could do to keep up—there was only one way to win this fight, as much as she didn’t like it, but she had to wait for the right opportunity.

Zaina backed up, desperately trying to survive while looking for her chance—Ovela was attacking from multiple angles, swinging her fang about madly to incapacitate Zaina once and for all. As the whispers grew louder in Zaina’s ears and darkness crowded her sight, the perfect strike came—Ovela was going for a stab.

Zaina rushed forward, skewering her own body on Ovela’s fang with a mighty shout. It wasn’t one of pain—it was anger, and wrath, and resolve. Ovela’s eyes widened as she met Zaina’s gaze. Zaina raised her cipher—with a mad shriek, she slashed down across Ovela’s torso.

They both fell backward, hitting the ground at the same time with dual thuds. Zaina’s cipher dissipated, and she held her new stomach wound. Blood poured out freely, and she moaned in agony. She was slipping away, stretching into a light just beyond the threshold of darkness. This wasn’t a cold, shadowy embrace like the Eldritch—it was bright, warm, and inviting. Her eyes fluttered, and then she blinked. No—she had to hold on.

Zaina forced herself to take deep breaths, straining to look for her opponent. Ovela was struggling to her feet—in disbelief and shock, Zaina tried to pull herself away. It was no use—her arm wasn’t responding anymore, and her legs were numb.

Ovela stumbled, propping herself up on one arm as she fought madly to stand. Her body was trembling, and spasms were rocking her torso, neck, and arms. She reached toward Zaina, blood spilling from her open chest and side, and said, “Zai—na…”

Then, with one last wheezing groan, her eyes rolled back into her head. Ovela fell to her knees. She lurched backward, but before her body hit the ground, it was consumed by green, shadowy flames. The fire was pulled into the stone, leaving nothing behind except a small pile of ashes—the Eldritch’s orb fell to the ground, absorbing the shadowy aura it emitted and leaving the room still and silent.

The whispers were gone for now; Zaina’s head fell back against the hard, stone floor. She took another few deep breaths before the creeping shadows swallowed her entirely.