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and sides. Dozens of eyes appeared, some human, different colors from the normal range to luminescent pink, others with vertical slits, some compound, and smatterings of eyes with diagonal and X-shaped pupils. Mouths from a variety of creatures real and barely imagined in the worst nightmares appeared.

“Yeah, pretty sure that kills my doubts,” Lyssa muttered.

“You understand nothing,” Nektarios shouted, his voice a twisted chorus. “This wasn’t the time for the plan, but you humans have forced it. Your souls will be little compensation for interfering with me. I will kill as many of you as I can before leaving this place. I will wound your precious Last Remnant.”

An invisible force swept through the chamber, scattering the dust and blinding Lyssa. It pinned her, Tristan, and Samuel to the wall. Nektarios’s body continued to contort, growing more limbs and eyes. His fingers bent and split, different numbers of clawed digits on each limb. He roared.

Lyssa strained to free herself from the monstrous Elder’s power, but she couldn’t move. She had plenty of ammo left in her pockets, but it wouldn’t do her any good without her weapons.

The spirit remained silent, though the smoke marking his presence remained. If Nektarios killed them all, maybe Jofi would eat him.

Lyssa was out of ideas. Some bizarre creature had her pinned to a wall. Conjuring a shadow tentacle might allow her to grab her guns. They might not be as effective with Jofi mostly unbound, but the penetrators should still work.

She tossed the idea away as Nektarios pressed her into the wall, making it difficult to breathe. Even if she could use the tentacle, she couldn’t lift her arms to shoot. Torches rarely died cleanly, but being crushed by a bizarre monstrosity from a nightmare topped the list of awful ways to go.

No hope. No chance. An overwhelming foe. When a woman was out of any reasonable ideas, it was time for the ridiculous ones.

“Night Goddess, help me,” Lyssa managed to get out.

A pulse of dark energy blasted from her regalia and swept through the room. Nektarios staggered back before increasing the pressure. The smoke in the room swirled around him.

It’s not too late.

The thought came directly into her mind, unlike with Jofi. The presence felt familiar and close.

Are you seriously my regalia? Lyssa thought. She tried to speak but couldn’t open her mouth under the crushing pressure of Nektarios’ power.

There’s isn’t much time, Lyssa. A convergence of rare events allows this. I can reverse what was done and seal the spirit back in the weapons using a small portion of my power after lending him your power.

And I should trust some random voice in my head? Lyssa thought. Regalia aren’t alive.

Nektarios is not yet at his full power, but when he reaches it, he’ll be far more dangerous than a mere emptiness spirit. You have no chance against the enemy by yourself, but you will with Jofi. I can fuse him with you temporarily and then reseal him. It’ll cost me, but it can be done.

Lyssa had no idea what the hell was going on. She didn’t believe the Night Goddess had decided to start talking to her, but the voice in her head wasn’t the one who was threatening to swallow her soul.

I can’t get to my gun, Lyssa thought. And I brought a lot of ammo, but not showstoppers. I’m not sure it’ll be enough.

Then let me help you. All you have to do is agree in your soul.

Yeah, Lyssa thought. That doesn’t sound creepy at all.

Choose quickly. The moment is passing. Something worse than death awaits you.

Lyssa closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She didn’t need to be an expert in spirit sorcery to think agreeing might cost her dearly in the future, but her choice was to die and have Nektarios eat her soul now or agree to this strange pact with something claiming to be the Night Goddess.

More servants rushed into the room with swords, spears, and halberds. Nektarios’s power knocked them back into the other room or pinned them against the wall.

The last vestiges of humanity abandoned Nektarios. He was now a tangled mass of legs, limbs, and eyes. His unearthly keening churned Lyssa’s stomach.

You will die, the voice sent. And he will take countless victims.

What do you get out of this? Lyssa asked. Why do you care?

I gain potential. A possibility for the future. But we don’t have much time left. You must choose.

Lyssa grunted. But you want me to let a grand emptiness spirit possess me with the vague promise that you’ll somehow seal it back?

Yes.

Lyssa couldn’t tell if Nektarios was watching her with any of the eyes covering his twisted form. Just looking at him nauseated her, and it was difficult to stare for more than a few seconds without her head hurting.

It was just like six years ago. She didn’t have time to consider the implications, and there was no other choice. Maybe the whole thing was a clever ploy by Jofi, but given the strange ranting and noises earlier, she doubted it. Taking half a chance made more sense than giving up. She closed her eyes and concentrated.

I agree.

Chapter Thirty-One

All sensation and pain left Lyssa. She saw nothing. Felt nothing. Heard nothing. There was only the void. Only emptiness.

A gnawing, ravenous emptiness spread through her, making her desperate to consume everything around her. A hole ran through her soul.

Her senses returned, but the gnawing hunger remained. She needed to eat. Drink. Feel joy. Feel sadness. Destroy. Build. She needed everything and anything to fill the hole, the emptiness.

Lyssa screamed, her voice as alien as the transformed Elder. Her pain and uncertainty vanished, consumed by the void in her soul. Nektarios’s power kept the others pinned, but she broke free and dropped to the floor.

She sprinted to her guns without a thought, picking them both up, and jumped back, the gale-force power not pushing her. Instead, it faded near her, the dust and debris settling in a small bubble near her

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