Page 103 of Shattered Crown

Silas's voice echoed from the pillar of light, distorted but recognizable: “I can see... everything. Both worlds. All connections. The patterns beneath reality.”

Patterns of forest magic appeared on his skin, not marks but actual living energy flowing through and around him. The Ashworth blood in his veins glowed with ancestral power, connecting him to generations past and futures yet unrealized.

Sebastian sensed the threat. Abandoning all other targets, he charged toward the ritual circle, corruption trailing behind him like a living cape. “NO!” he roared, voice distorting with rage and fear. “I WILL NOT BE DENIED!”

The defenders rallied to intercept him, buying precious seconds. Thorne moved to protect Silas, his body forming a living barrier between the ritual and Sebastian's corruption.

“You can't stop this,” Thorne declared, power gathering around him. “What's happening here is beyond your comprehension.”

“Is it?” Sebastian snarled, shadows writhing around him. “Or is it exactly what I've been seeking all along?”

He struck with concentrated corruption, a spear of darkness aimed directly at Thorne's heart. Thorne deflected it, but the force sent him staggering back, dangerously close to the ritual circle.

“Stay back!” Nathaniel warned. “The ritual is at its most vulnerable point. Any disruption could be catastrophic!”

Inside the pillar of light, Silas's transformation reached a critical stage. His physical form stabilized into something between human and guardian—taller, more luminous, his features refined yet unmistakably himself. Around him, reality itself seemed to bend and reshape, responding to his new nature.

“It's working,” Nathaniel breathed, amazement overtaking caution. “He's actually becoming the Bridge.”

Sebastian redoubled his assault, corruption striking in waves that overwhelmed defenders one by one. His focus remained absolute—reach the ritual, stop the transformation, maintain the division that fed the Shadowblight's power.

But as he drew closer, something unexpected happened. The corrupted shadows around Sebastian flickered, wavered, as if responding to the ritual's energy. For a moment—just a heartbeat—Sebastian's true face emerged from the darkness, his expression not rage but anguish.

“What's happening to him?” Diana called, noticing the fluctuation.

Thorne saw it with his guardian senses—the Shadowblight's hold on Sebastian was weakening near the ritual's purifying energy. The Bridge that Silas was becoming created a field of balanced energy that disrupted corruption's grip.

Sebastian staggered, clutching his head. His next attack faltered, shadows dispersing before reforming. “Get out of my head!” he screamed, and Thorne couldn't tell if he addressed the defenders or the corruption itself.

The battlefield paused, all eyes drawn to this unexpected development. Sebastian dropped to his knees, his form fluctuating between corrupted monster and the man he had once been. Through gritted teeth, he looked up at Thorne.

“Kill me,” he managed, his voice briefly his own. “While it's weak. End this.”

Thorne hesitated, recognition flooding him. This wasn't just strategy—it was Sebastian, the real Sebastian, fighting through corruption's control.

“Please,” Sebastian begged, blood trickling from his eyes. “I can't hold it back much longer.”

Before Thorne could respond, the ritual reached its apex. Silas emerged from the pillar of light, transformed into the Bridge—his body radiating energy that connected both realms, his consciousness expanded beyond normal limitations. Where he stepped, reality itself seemed to stabilize, forcing a temporary equilibrium between corruption and purity.

“Sebastian,” he said, his voice resonating with new power. “This doesn't end with your death.”

“It has to,” Sebastian replied, struggling visibly against the corruption trying to reassert control. “The Shadowblight... it's using me. Always has been.”

Silas approached, his transformed presence causing the shadows around Sebastian to recoil. “There's another way. Let me help you.”

“No!” Sebastian scrambled backward. “You don't understand. If I surrender to your ritual, the Shadowblight will corrupt it from within. It will use me to destroy everything.”

Thorne saw the terrible truth in Sebastian's eyes—he wasn't fighting to save himself, but to prevent the Shadowblight from tainting Silas's transformation.

With sudden clarity, Sebastian seemed to make a decision. “I'm sorry,” he said, looking directly at Thorne. “For everything.”

Before anyone could stop him, Sebastian opened himself completely to the Shadowblight. Not fighting it, not trying to control it, but offering himself as willing sacrifice. His body began to dissolve, not into death, but into pure shadow essence.

“No,” Thorne whispered, recognizing too late what was happening. “Sebastian, don't!”

Sebastian's eyes met his one last time. For an instant, Thorne saw the man he'd been: proud, ambitious, but ultimately human. “I'm sorry,” he repeated, or perhaps it was just a sigh of release.

Then he was gone, his essence serving as catalyst for something far worse.

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