Despite the resolution, Cosmo couldn't help but feel a twinge of concern.
The strange thing about Yon–something he still couldn't decipher–was that even though the boy wasn't usually a liar, he was the type to omit the full truth.
Even when he explained how he used his soulless covenants with Cosmo, he made sure to hide what the covenants actually were.
Which was frightening, considering just how drastic a change he had made to his Artifact's authority.
It must have required sacrificing something incredibly precious, but Cosmo didn't wish to pry.
In the end, he had no choice but to trust his officer.
"Cosmo's focus snapped back just in time to block a devastating strike aimed at his neck. A slight fracture reminded him of the danger, so he decided to create distance. Allowing the force to carry through, he rolled, then launched a kick straight into the opponent's head."
SWISH!
His leg passed through, but he barely felt any resistance.
The spire had deformed to minimize the impact rather than dodging outright.
How strange. It didn't avoid it entirely?
Its right arm seized Cosmo's leg, and like a rag doll, he felt his body swing toward the ground.
"Hey, hey, hold on!"
Cosmo pushed against the ground prematurely, making the air itself cushion the impact.
As soon as he rebounded off the surface, he unleashed another sharp torrent that would've sliced clean through the spire if it hadn't reinforced its chest.
'No matter.'
The moment he landed, Cosmo's hands clasped together within his view, and simultaneously, two large hands of ice materialized before mimicking the motion on the spire.
The beast, encased in ice, compressed its form before exploding outward, shattering its casing.
BZOOT!
The human gave it no time to recover before a beam pierced straight through its head.
It was hard to say whether it was a problem yet, but Cosmo had begun to understand what was suddenly different about the creature.
"Why have you stopped looking ahead? Sure, it's futile now, but that was the most dangerous thing about you, no?"
SNAP!
Several thick vines suddenly lashed toward him, whipping with enough force to fracture the very air.
Cosmo lifted off the ground to avoid the worst of them, and naturally, the spire followed.
For some reason, it had stopped reading the future and had chosen instead to adapt to its opponent.
"By all accounts, it was a terrible choice, and Cosmo was more than capable of overwhelming it on equal footing."
It might have been trying to adjust to the Nebula's captain as the battle progressed, but that would only make it easier for Cosmo to unleash a skill capable of finishing it without the risk of missing.
At least, that was what Cosmo should have thought, but a looming sense of paranoia kept him from acting on it.
"Actually, it might not even matter at this point."
He spoke just as the spire's hand hovered a hair's breadth from spearing through him.
It suddenly froze, screeched, and turned its attention upward.
"I couldn't have asked for anything better," Cosmo smirked as he also looked above.
A red‑haired boy had struck the weak points of the oval structure several times, leaving it in a fragile state. His blue‑eyed partner had attached a web of chains to the highest point.
On cue, they both pulled, and gravity did the rest.
KKKKRRRREEEEEAAAA!
Watching what was essentially its cocoon collapse inward, the spire shrieked in agony before leaping toward them.
"Wrong move."
A familiar length of white fabric snapped around it before it could reach them.
"Burst."
From the arm it was wrapped around, all the way to the spire's body, the white strip detonated in a chain.
The explosion traveled through the spire's torso, obliterating it.
"I guess I was right. You still count only as a Shadowbeast. Meaning, to some extent, I can still alter your body," Cosmo said as he caught one of Red's original links.
By the time Tyson and Red descended to the captain's height, they saw what remained of the spire's body plummeting helplessly toward the ground, along with the shattered pieces of the wooden structure splashing into the water like falling meteors.
"Awesome job, you two. A bit rough, to say the least, but a positive outcome nonetheless."
"Yeeesh… I can't say those last ones were necessary…"
"T'was."
"But I'll take it."
While the other two joked, Tyson seemed oddly distracted and failed to speak in time.
Noticing this, Cosmo followed his gaze.
"It's funny to find out you've been interested this whole time, but I'd appreciate it if you didn't stare so much. Weirdly, it feels almost like I'm naked."
Cosmo raised his right hand, now exposed from wrist to fingertips, missing its iconic cover.
"As if," Tyson muttered, looking away.
The skin of Cosmo's hand was scarred with red branching patterns, marks that looked burned into the flesh.
At the same time, the intensity of their color fluctuated as if alive.
It wasn't a casual sight. The contrast between the patterns and his skin was so stark it bordered on unsettling.
"I… knew it'd be something weird. I just didn't think it was–"
"Let me guess, you thought it'd be all, 'Gah! This is the seal that holds back the dark power in my arm. Now that it's breaking, it's going to destroy the world! Quick, you have to run away!' or something like that?"
"Haha! That would've been way more exciting!"
"Shove it. I don't really care either way. And honestly, it makes me feel unreasonably disgusted."
"No, it's reasonable. But now's not a good time to be distracted. Our situation hasn't changed–"
"What is it?"
Red's question was answered as the environment finally registered in his senses.
The space around them began tearing open at random points.
Rifts of varying sizes all revealed the same familiar sight: a void darker than black.
"No way," Red muttered. "Inverted voids?"
"Is it doing this?" Tyson asked.
"No, I don't think it is." As usual, Cosmo covered his mouth with his hand as he contemplated. "If it could do this in the first place, it had no reason to manifest itself at all. But its original plan didn't account for us, not until my little experiment earlier. Both their end goals involve altering that space, but only one of them can serve as the point of contact to the time they wish to reach, so she'd have to be the one left with the console while it faces us."
"Captain… does that mean–"
"Yes, it's Rita's doing," Cosmo confirmed Red's suspicion. "Doing this puts both them and us in danger, so this most likely isn't intentional. For some reason, Rita's not syncing anymore."
"That's a good thing, isn't it? If they can't assimilate, we have more time to work with."
"Not necessarily," he replied to Tyson. "It just means Blue did something. And whatever it is, it's making her sanity erode further and faster than expected. She's still in danger, and even more so if she's truly at the center of all this."
Cosmo's eyes swept over the rupturing space.
He mulled it over before suggesting.
"The best thing to do right now is to leave."
"What?"
"Captain, that's–"
"I'm not saying we should. But things have gone way too far. It's not just our lives we stand to lose if we keep fighting here. You should keep that in mind if–"
KYIIIIIIIIIIIII!!!
All three were forced to cover their ears as a piercing scream tore through the air.
It was louder than any before, accompanied by violent rumbling.
Time and time again, they had risked themselves to incapacitate the creature, only for it to rise with even greater desperation.
So seeing it do the same now wasn't damning.
However, something about this outburst rang differently from every other round.
For a moment, its cry instilled true fear.