The Ghost-Knight didn't move like a living thing. He drifted, his armor clanking with the sound of frozen chains. As he raised his crystal staff, the moisture in the air crystallized instantly, turning the silver dust into a storm of microscopic daggers.
"The Silence of the Wilds is not a suggestion, Fallen One," the knight's voice rattled in my skull. "It is a sentence."
He slammed the base of his staff into the permafrost. A wave of jagged blue ice erupted from the ground, racing toward us like a row of shark teeth.
"Jump!" Xylo yelled.
He swept me into his arms and took to the air, but the cold was a physical weight. The frost aura of the knight was draining the heat from Xylo's wings, turning the feathers brittle. We hovered barely ten feet up, the tether between us glowing a frantic, jagged violet.
"He's pinning us," I wheezed, the air burning my throat. "Xylo, he's not aiming for us. He's aiming for the space between us."
The Knight raised his staff again, and three spheres of concentrated frost formed in the air. They weren't tracking us; they were locking onto the Tether itself. If those spheres hit the cord, the bridge between our souls would shatter—and we would implode.
"Vespera, the Void-Step," Xylo grunted, his arms shaking as he fought to stay aloft. "You have to trigger it. Now!"
"It's incomplete! The system says I don't have enough synchronization!"
"Then take it from me!" Xylo roared. He pulled me flush against his chest, his golden scars burning so bright they began to singe my robes. "I am a star, Vespera. I am an infinite battery of essence. Stop sipping... and drink!"
I didn't hesitate. I wrapped my arms around his neck and slammed my consciousness into the Tether.
It felt like swallowing a sun. The power was too much—it was blinding, golden, and arrogant. It tried to tear my Void Core apart, but I forced the darkness to wrap around it, weaving the gold and the violet into a single, unstable thread.
"Do it!" Xylo's voice was a ragged whisper.
The Ghost-Knight launched the frost spheres. They streaked through the air, absolute zero trailing in their wake.
I didn't move my legs. I moved my will. I visualized the space behind the Knight—the one spot where his frost-aura was thinnest. I reached out with the hunger and pulled the destination toward me.
The world turned inside out.
There was a sound like a vacuum seal being broken. One moment, we were in the path of the frost; the next, we were gone. We didn't fly through the air; we simply ceased to exist in one spot and reappeared in another.
The frost spheres slammed into the iron oak where we had been standing, shattering the massive tree into a million frozen splinters.
The Ghost-Knight froze. He turned his head slowly, his empty sockets widening. "Impossible. Only the Void-Walkers of the Old Era..."
"I'm not a Walker," I rasped, my vision swimming from the energy drain. I was still in Xylo's arms, but now we were behind the Guardian. "I'm the one who eats."
"Finish it!" I screamed.
I funneled the remaining "stolen" starlight back into Xylo, but I didn't give it back as light. I fermented it with the Void, turning it into a corrosive, black-gold flame.
Xylo's sword lengthened, the blade turning into a jagged fang of dark energy. He didn't just swing; he drove the blade directly into the gap between the knight's helmet and breastplate.
The void-fire poured into the suit of armor. The Ghost-Knight didn't bleed; he hissed. The blue frost inside him turned to steam as the Void consumed his very essence.
"The... silence... ends..." the Knight whispered.
The armor collapsed, falling into a heap of rusted metal. The crystal staff shattered, releasing a final pulse of cold that turned the surrounding trees into glass.
Xylo dropped to one knee, letting me slide to the ground. He was gasping for air, his wings steaming in the cold. The golden scars on his chest were dim, pulsing with a faint, exhausted light.
I sat on the frozen dirt, staring at my hands. They were trembling, but the violet runes were deeper now, etched more firmly into my skin.
"We did it," I whispered. "We actually did it."
Xylo looked at me, a strange, grim expression on his face. He reached out and touched the Tether, which was now a solid, glowing braid of violet and gold. It didn't flicker anymore. It was steady. It was strong.
"At twenty-five percent," he said, his voice low. "The soul-bleed becomes permanent, Vespera. You won't just hear my thoughts anymore. You'll start to feel my memories. And I'll feel yours."
I looked into his golden eyes and saw a flash of something—a tall white tower, a girl with golden hair, and a betrayal that had lasted a century. It wasn't my memory, but for a second, the grief of it made my own chest ache.
"I've spent my life as a Null," I said, meeting his gaze. "I've had nothing but silence in my head. I think I can handle a little bit of your noise."
He let out a short, dry laugh. "Be careful what you wish for, little shadow. My noise is deafening."
"Wait," I blinked, looking at the new icons. "Does 'Shared Inventory' mean we have to share a bag now?"
Xylo stood up, offering me his hand. "It means we share everything now. Our gear, our power... and our enemies."
He pulled me up, and for the first time, he didn't let go immediately. We stood there in the wreckage of the Ghost-Knight, two outcasts bound by a string of fate that was slowly turning into a noose.
"To the Wastes?" I asked.
"To the Wastes," he agreed. "But Vespera? If you see a memory of a girl in a garden... ignore it. That part of me is dead."
I nodded, but I already knew he was lying. In the Void, nothing ever truly stays dead.