The Behemoth’s massive head tumbled to the ground. Its expression was frozen in shock, pain, and a final flicker of a smile.

  Silence settled in the Pit. Mitch lowered his soul sword, breathing fast, and felt his heart hammering against the cage of his chest. The rush of power from the soul he consumed ebbed.

  He’d won. They’d won.

  The Behemoth, a creature bound by chains it could never break, was finally free. A moment later, its giant body crashed to the blood. Blood and ichor pooled around it. Immediately, Rex wanted to leap off him like a hungry hound.

  Hold.

  Mitch reached with Abyssal Vault, and claimed the beast's soul. A vicious glow poured from the beheaded corpse. It lingered, slow and viscous and larger than any he’d taken before.

  It flowed into his core. And Mitch felt the weight of it–far more substantial than any beast he’d taken. This was no mere simple creature’s spirit.

  Settlement Amount: 64(+1) Souls, 15 Beast Souls, 0 Credits, 39 Flesh.

  It was human. Perhaps elf, dwarf, elf, or giant. Mitch was not sure. But it had been a person once.

  The soul was huge, and Mitch could feel it swirl in his core. It was covered in scars that pulsed faintly across its surface. Each was a mark of battles fought and trials endured. Torment was etched into the soul like wounds that refused to heal. Mitch felt its weight settle into his core with the others, as the heft of the spirit strengthened and emboldened him further.

  Mitch smiled. This soul’s path wasn’t so different from his own. Nor from his body. Whatever the Behemoth had once been, it had fought, survived, and clung to a shred of itself. Before and during the Abyss’s torment of twisting it into the monster it had become.

  He felt its gratitude.

  Or is that relief?

  Rex vibrated against his body, but Mitch hesitated at allowing his Shadowshroud to feast. He felt reverent towards the beast. The soul was something ancient. It had survived hell, even if it was a little broken.

  No. I need every boost of strength I can gather.

  After a moment of respect, Mitch let Rex surge. In a moment of unrestrained hunger and desire, Rex leapt off Mitch's scar covered torso and whipped towards the large cadaver.

  Rex’s form had grown. He took the shape of a twisted, young pup. Coarse tendrils of inky hair coated his body as he prowled over the Behemoth’s massive body. A single gleaming eye, white and unblinking, stared down at his meal. A dark tendril stretched from Mitch’s side, connecting them like an umbilical cord.

  Rex’s mouth stretched open, jagged and wide. A maw slick with blood and viciously sharp teeth. He crunched down on bone, gnawing hungrily.

  Mitch reached down and pet Rex, who ate in a pool of blood. The Shadowshroud’s body was dense and surprisingly coarse. Each bite bloated his body just a little more. Rex continued to consume the body, his hunger’s end nowhere in sight.

  “Don’t ever take control of me again,” Sable spat from behind Rex's feast.

  He looked up at her. Devoid was still clouding his mind, making her reaction seem silly. “I saved your life. That boulder was going too–”

  “You were in my head like some…puppet master.”

  He opened his mouth to respond, but she held up a hand. Her gaze was fierce. “Never again.”

  Mitch felt the heat of anger bubble against his cold rationality. Power still hummed thorugh his veins. “I didn’t have a choice, Sable. If I hadn’t acted, you’d be dead. We don’t get to decide to be moral down here.”

  Her jaw tightened, but her eyes held something else that Mitch read–fear.

  “It’s not about survival. That…control over me? I felt your order like a claw in my mind. And you didn’t hesitate, did you?” Sable yelled at him.

  Mitch’s hands curled into fists. “I’m doing what I have to, Sable. You think I wanted this power? You think I asked to become this?”

  “Then don’t fucking enjoy it,” she snapped. “There’s something…dark taking root in you. When you told me to move, it wasn’t a warning. It was control. And a part of you liked it.”

  Even through the detached rationality, a part of Mitch understood her sentiment. He had not enjoyed controlling her.

  But how is she supposed to know that?

  Mitch’s gaze hardened. “I did what was necessary. If you can’t handle that, maybe–”

  “Maybe what?” she cut in. “Maybe I’m not cut out for you being able to fucking control me? Maybe I should just accept that you can control me when it suits you? I had no idea that was possible when I agreed to be your “First Follower”. I’m a fucking idiot for accepting that.”

  Her words stung. He recoiled from her anger. But she did not understand the costs he had been paying. “I saved you, Sable…control or not.”

  She looked away. Her expression twisted with frustration and betrayal. “Don’t let it twist you.”

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  Before he could respond and apologize, another voice slithered through the tension.

  “Lovers in paradise, I see,” the Warden’s voice sneered from beyond the Abyssal wall. He laughed, the noise filling the Pit where they were trapped. “Here, a little something to savor during your date.”

  With a careless toss, the Warden lobbed something through the Abyssal wall. A dented canteen of water and a tray of slop clanged onto the floor. The food splattered everywhere, mingling with the gore and dirt.

  Rex barked loudly at the half-orc and zipped back back over Mitch’s torso. Protecting his master was more important than feasting.

  “Oops,” the Warden fake laughed.

  Mitch glared towards the wall as the Warden’s laugh faded. Sable’s words lingered, like a thorn lodged in his chest.

  Sable stared at the grimy, half-congealed slop spread across the Pit floor. Mitch felt only…nothing. No hunger. Not even thirst.

  He glanced down at his body, realization settling over him. He didn’t need food. Not in the way he once had.

  A memory surfaced, half-forgotten: the flesh reserves he’d used to heal, burning away bodies to stitch himself back together. Was that the reason he felt so sustained?

  My needs are disappearing. One by one. Replaced by Abyssal gifts. I’m becoming a creature of will and flesh only.

  “Give it a rest,” Sable’s voice cut back to the Warden. She glared toward the wall, her defiance a faint spark in the dimness. But he could sense her unease.

  Does the same work for Sable…? Does she feel it too?

  Mitch could feel the Warden’s pull on the edges of his core. The man toyed with him as he pointed his pen at him subtly. The Warden’s reach clawed at the Behemoth’s soul within him, slowly prying them free. Mitch’s spine tensed as the Warden’s reach clawed at him, like invisible fingers digging in.

  “Oh look at you,” the Warden’s voice slithered in, taunting, “doing so well, aren’t you, little doggy? Collecting so well.” He chuckled darkly, and Mitch felt him sharpening his grip. “And all for me.”

  A chill sank into Mitch’s bones as the Warden latched onto the souls, and ripped them out.

  A hot, searing pain ripped through him as the souls tore free from his core. Souls howled through the thick rope of tendrils that extended from his chest.

  “Give It to me,” the Warden drawled. “Hand them over.”

  Mitch gritted his teeth. He tried to fight against the invisible hands tearing at his insides. His fingers dug into his pals as he strained to keep hold to no avail. Against the searing anguish of the souls torn away by the Warden, Mitch held onto one with raw resolve.

  Mitch wasn’t about to surrender the Behemoth. He had made a promise.

  Not this time.

  With a surge of will, Mitch reached for the Behemoth’s siphoning soul, and refused to let it go. He felt the weight of it–a heavy, scarred presence. Resilient as it clung firmly to the walls of his core. Unwilling to return into the hands of the Abyss.

  Through the fog of emotions he felt from the souls he was losing, he pushed his remaining strength to shove the Behemoth’s soul into his sword.

  The soul was huge. Scarred and raw. A raging storm of memories and old battles. Mitch’s will drew it into the sword like liquid fire. Against the anguish he felt from the souls he could not hold onto. Those taken by the Warden.

  The sword pulsed in his hand with new, dark energy. The Behemoth’s defiant soul filled the empty vessel. Shadows swirled around the hilt, solidifying as they consumed its essence, binding it into the empty vessel.

  Power rippled through it, dark veins surging up the blade. A low hum echoed up to the base of his skull like a satisfied settling. Mitch felt the sword grow hot to the touch, but he gripped it tighter in his palm.

  ‘My name is…Galadrith.’

  The soul’s name drifted into his mind, ancient and unwavering from the depths. Galadrith’s presence was massive and powerful. The soul lent the blade a terrible weight. Mitch felt a strange reverence pulse through him, an intensity he had never known.

  A faint warmth, a hint of pride.

  ‘Roomier in here than I thought. Quite nice, really.’ Galadrith’s voice rumbled, low and unbroken, resonating from the sword’s depths. A resonance Mitch felt as much as heard in his mind. He panted from the strain of souls being ripped out of him, their lives having flashed through his mind during the struggle.

  Then came the Warden’s fury. The man’s voice rose, no longer smooth but spluttering with rage.

  “You dare–” the voice thundered, “I command it, you worm! That soul is mine!”

  Settlement Amount: 0 Souls, 0 Beast Souls, 0 Credits, 39 Flesh.

  Active Debt: -1,002,664* -> --934,498*

  The feeling surged again. Some horrifying pulled at Mitch’s core, but it was empty. Nothing but flesh to claim. The Warden howled in frustration, the sound echoing through the pit like a shattering storm.

  “Do you think you have this figured out?” the Warden’s voice seethed, shaking with rage. “I will break you, and your little girlfriend for this. Butcher!”

  Up on the perch a heavy figure emerged. Butcher’s bloated form loomed against the dim light. He grinned, fat face squeezing in a horrifying smush. The pigman breathed heavily, panting at the trot he had to take.

  “Yes, boss?” Butcher’s voice slithered out obediently.

  The Warden’s voice was cold. “Release the back room. The ones we keep locked away.”

  A brief hesitation hung in the air. Even Butcher seemed taken aback. “Are…are you sure, boss?”

  The Warden’s voice hardened. “Yes. Every single one.”

  Butcher’s grin widened, a look of depraved joy twisting his features. He nodded quickly, and hulked away. The pigman’s vile chuckles faded into the shadows as he went to obey his master.

  “We will make sure you are better behaved. Let’s hope you survive.” With that, the Warden walked off.

  Mitch was weary from the souls ripped out of him, but triumphant at protecting the Behemoth’s soul. He tightened his grip on the hilt, feeling Galadrith’s violent anticipation feeding into his resolve.

  ‘I can’t wait to kill that fat pig. He…smells.’ Galadrith growled, the words rolling through Mitch’s mind like the threat of a storm.

  “Ready?” Mitch asked Sable.

  “We have no idea what he’s about to throw at us,” Sable said tensely. “And this time, I’m not a pawn you can push around.” She held his gaze.

  Mitch met her eyes, and slowly nodded. “I know,” he said softly. “This time…it’s different.”

  He tightened his grip around the soul sword as he inspected the perch. Rex was an excited presence in his mind, swirling on his body in tight, flexible armor.

  “Once we’re done with this, we’re taking the fight to them.” He gave Sable an apologetic smile and nodded towards the perch.

  “Together.”

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