“I would not dare deny you the pleasure of witnessing my glory,” I return, earning a genuine smile that eases the tension between us.

We part ways at the junction of the northern and eastern routes—Zorath leading the main force while Vara accompanies us with a select group of elite warriors. The eastern passage looms before us, a treacherous maze of thermal vents and crushing pressure zones that few have navigated successfully.

Imoogeen swims at my side, her movements fluid and confident despite her partial transformation. Through our bond, I sense her discomfort as the corruption fights against her control, but her determination never wavers.

“Stay close,” I tell her as we enter the first pressure zone. “The currents grow unpredictable here.”

She nods, her focus absolute as we navigate the dangerous waters. Twice we nearly lose warriors to sudden pressure shifts, and once a thermal vent erupts without warning, separating us briefly from the rest of our small force.

Through it all, Imoogeen remains steadfast, her presence a constant reassurance through our bond. When the corruption flares painfully within her, she grits her teeth and pushes through, refusing to become the liability she fears.

We emerge from the eastern passage to find the Heart’s chamber largely unguarded—exactly as we predicted. Rynor has committed his forces to the northern battle, confident in the impregnability of the eastern approach.

The Heart itself pulses before us, a massive crystalline structure that throbs with the lifeforce of our world. Its surface ripples with energy patterns that respond to our presence, recognizing the royal essence we both carry.

“It’s beautiful,” Imoogeen breathes, momentarily transfixed.

A slow clap breaks the reverent silence.

“How touching,” Rynor’s voice echoes through the chamber as he emerges from behind the Heart, flanked by his elite guard. “The mighty Krak’zol and his pet human, come to save the day.”

Rage burns through me at the sight of my brother—his once-proud form now twisted by the very corruption he wields as a weapon. His scales have darkened to a sickly green-black, and his eyes glow with unnatural malice.

“It’s over, Rynor,” I growl, positioning myself slightly ahead of Imoogeen. “Your forces are engaged in the north. You are outnumbered.”

“Am I?” He smiles, revealing teeth that have sharpened to needle points. “Or perhaps I wanted you here, brother. Perhaps this wasalwaysthe plan.”

With a gesture, he activates something within the chamber. The water around us shimmers with toxic energy that targets Imoogeen specifically, latching onto the corruption already within her.

She gasps, doubling over as green light pulses beneath her skin. Through our bond, I feel her agony as the corruption surges, fighting to take control.

“You see,” Rynor continues conversationally, “your little queen has been carrying my insurance policy. A direct link to me—and through me, to the parasite.”

He holds up a pulsing green orb—the concentrated corruption he plans to implant in the Heart. “She’s the perfect vessel. Already bonded to the Heart through you, already partially transformed. When the alignment comes, I won’t need to breach the Heart’s defenses at all. She will do it for me.”

“Never,” Imoogeen grits out, fighting for control. Her eyes flash between their natural color and toxic green as she struggles against his influence.

I move to her side, one arm supporting her as she sways. “Fight it, Imoogeen. Our bond is stronger.”

Rynor laughs. “Such confidence! Let’s test it, shall we?” He makes another gesture, and Imoogeen cries out as the corruption surges again.

Through our bond, I feel her slipping away, her consciousness being overwritten by Rynor’s control. In desperation, I press my forehead against hers—the most intimate gesture of my kind—and pour my essence into our connection.

Stay with me, little queen. I need you.

Her response comes faintly through layers of pain and corruption.The ritual. We have to complete it now, before the alignment.

She’s right. We can’t wait. If Rynor gains full control before the alignment, all is lost.

“Vara!” I call to my warrior. “Defend us. We begin the ritual.”

Understanding dawns in Rynor’s eyes. “Stop them!” he commands his guards, but Vara and our warriors move to intercept, forming a protective circle around us.

I guide Imoogeen to the base of the Heart, where its energy flows most directly into the surrounding waters. The ritual requires both of us to enter a trance state, making us vulnerable while we work to separate the parasite from both Imoogeen and the Heart itself.

“I can’t hold it back much longer,” she warns, her voice strained. The corruption has spread visibly, green tendrils reaching up her neck toward her face.

“You won’t have to,” I promise her. “Trust me.”