The change was not gentle.
Her limbs convulsed, muscles tearing and reforming beneath her skin. Her chest arched to the sky, ribs cracking from the inside as if her heart itself needed more room to contain the void.
Her scream went silent.
The sky seemed to fold in on itself.
Her eyes went black.
Not dark. Not shadowed.
Empty.
A monster's eyes.
The tail lashed behind her, bones snapping, lengthening. Her body grew, distorted, shifting between form and formlessness. Black flame unfurled from her shoulders. Her teeth sharpened into voidglass daggers. It wasn't the subtle madness of a whisper taking root. It was a violent, terrible unfolding. Her body cracked and surged, limbs elongating and darkening with spiraling void energy. Her tail lashed, expanding, glowing with ghostlight tendrils that shimmered with a twisted mirror of Loque'nahak's ethereal grace. But it wasn't Loque. It was a monstrous echo of him—jaws longer, spine segmented with jagged runes, horns curling in unnatural symmetry. A tailed beast born not from nature, but from rot. A void Loque. Nyxia stood beneath it, fused to it, or perhaps lost inside it. Her eyes were gone—only darkness remained, leaking like ink down her cheeks.
The beasts howled in unison, circling her.
But they didn't strike.
They bowed.
Something ancient and horrific moved inside her now—something that bore Arioch's blessing.
And she opened her arms.
Perseus
His warhammer trembled in his grip.
"Nyxia…"
She didn't see him.
Didn't hear him.
Didn't blink.
The light in her eyes was gone—and something else was breathing through her lungs.
His throat locked—not from fear, but grief.
Then the void minions broke into a sprint, dispersing like hounds unleashed.
She turned to face him.
Not Nyxia.
Something wearing her bones.
But in the dark—
Something mourned.
A low growl trembled through the void. And then—
Loque's voice.
"Nyxia… I'm not gone."
Miri
The world was distant. Heat peeled at her skin. Her thoughts were a scream. She was breaking.
And then—She felt Nyxia unravel.
That presence. That scream. That pressure—
It shattered her chains.
She didn't rise.
She exploded.
Void and fire tore through her skin. Lines of raw power seared down her chest, her throat, her arms. Her collar lit up, runes flaring in panic—
And shattered.
The shockwave obliterated everything near her.
Sand peeled back. The air cracked. The sky turned inside out.
Miri stood—bare, bloodied, blazing. Her eyes glowed. Her voice thundered.
She roared—
And charged.
Carnage.
Miri tore through three Felguards in seconds. Flame rippled off her. Her roar echoed like a war drum.
Above it all, a voice rang out—not Nyxia's, and yet—
"YOU BITCH!!"
It cracked with rage and power. Twisted with the Void.
Miri turned. Her collar—half broken—still sparked around her throat. She raised her fists—
But Arioch's whisper hissed down her spine.
"No." "She is ours now." "Do not touch her."
Miri hesitated.
Nyxia didn't.
She struck like a storm. Jaws open. Claws raking. Miri flew backward, slammed into the arena wall, gasping.
Nyxia lunged again—but this time, her fangs veered left.
She bit down on the collar.
The runes screamed.
And shattered.
Black shards exploded outward, slicing into Nyxia's face, shredding her tongue. Her mouth smoked. Her teeth cracked.
Miri screamed—a scream that wasn't rage. A scream of freedom.
The battle raged.
Perseus stood his ground, shield braced, hammer crushing imps beneath it. Eurydice called down spears of void-wrapped light, melting demons to pulp. Draj bled from the mouth, laughing as his axe split a Fel Lord in two.
Until the only sounds left were gasps, groans, and the wet crunch of ending violence.
Above them, the void tear pulsed—sick and shrinking.
The arena floor was soaked in blood and ichor. Bone poked through shattered tiles. The sky bled light.
Perseus rose slowly. His hammer hung low.
"She's gone," he whispered. "She's really…"
Eurydice caught his arm.
"No," she said. "She's still in there."
And then—
A shimmer.
A pulse.
Loque appeared.
Burned. Bleeding light. Fur singed. Limping.
And into Nyxia's mind, he whispered:
"You're stronger than this."
She screamed.
The void screamed back.
But the tear above—
Shrank.
With each pulse of Nyxia's rage, the summoned beasts dissolved.
A Felhunter turned to ooze. The Darkglare's eye ruptured. The Blasphemy's bells rang once—then never again.
Silence fell.
Nyxia stood over Miri, twitching.
Her void form wavered.
Trembled.
Her breath hitched.
She wouldn't fall.
"Come back to me cub" Loque pleaded
But her body was failing.
The Void begged her to stay. It coiled around her bones. Pulled at her mind. Clawed at her will.
She stood there—burning, unraveling, resisting.
Boo stepped forward.
"Let me help—"
"No," Perseus barked, stepping ahead of her. "Take Miri. Run."
Eurydice raised a trembling barrier. "We'll hold her."
Boo hesitated—but obeyed. She lifted Miri and vanished into the shadows with Draj.
Perseus turned to Nyxia. His shield hummed with light. His voice was quiet.
"You're not gone," he said. "You promised."
She didn't speak.
Didn't blink.
But her fingers twitched.
Her tail quivered.
And her eyes—those deep, hollow voids—
Wept.