Eneko’s lone, surviving hand, scarred and grimy, twitched. His gaze, fixed on the pulsing text, burned with an unholy light. Maite was frozen. Nerea was unconscious. Half the hospital was a crater. He had one arm left. The choice was a cruel mockery, a taunt from a universe bent on breaking him. But a familiar, deep-seated fury, a rage that had incubated since his peaceful death was stolen, began to simmer. No, not simmer. It boiled. It erupted. He wanted his sister safe. He wanted the world safe. And if that meant tearing existence itself a new one, then so be it. The universe had shown him its true face, a snarling, chaotic mess. He would show it his. “YES,” Eneko snarled, his voice a raw, guttural rasp, the word echoing through the smoldering ward. Ash swirled around him, tasting of burnt concrete and alien blood. [USER INPUT: ACCEPTED. INITIATING SUB-SPACE FUSION.] [WARNING: REALITY INTEGRITY COMPROMISED. LOCALIZED DIMENSIONAL RIFTS IMMINENT.] [SACRIFICING SUB-SPACE STABILITY. FUSING 1,000 ENTITIES INTO PRIMARY SUMMON, PATELLA.] The air around Eneko didn't just warp; it screamed. Cracks, not of physical damage but of pure, gleaming non-existence, spiderwebbed across the space between him and the crater’s edge. From these fissures, a grotesque symphony of howls, snarls, and the grinding of bone and sinew began to emanate. It was the sound of a thousand nightmares compressed, folded, and pounded into an unholy form. Across the ward, Vael, who had been watching Eneko with a detached curiosity, suddenly recoiled. His prism-like armor pulsed erratically, his helmet-face snapping toward the rupturing air. “Unacceptable!” he hissed, a note of genuine alarm in his tone. “Such a rapid destabilization… The Primordial Shroud should prevent this!” But the Primordial Shroud was failing. A storm of raw, crimson fallout erupted from the collapsing dimensional seams. Twisted limbs, burning eyes, and gnashing jaws flashed into existence for a split second before being violently reabsorbed. The epicenter of this terrifying convergence was Patella, still a hulking Death Knight, but now convulsing violently. Bone expanded. Muscle tore and rebuilt. Tendons stretched taut like siege cables. Patella’s form became a canvas for cosmic horror, absorbing the soul-meat of a thousand mutated fiends. It was no longer a Death Knight. It was a walking mountain of fused monsters, a biomechanical construct of sinew, hardened carapace, and serrated bone-blades. Two gargantuan, multi-jointed legs, each ending in a clawed foot the size of a utility truck, slammed down, pulverizing the cracked floor. Its torso was a twisted pyramid of fused ribs and spinal columns, adorned with a dozen peering, mismatched eyes. Four massive arms, each ending in a different weapon – a scythe, a drill, a crushing fist, a whip of barbed wire – sprouted from its shoulders. And perched atop this nightmare edifice, where a head should have been, was Patella’s original skull, shining with malevolent emerald light, its empty eye sockets blazing. “*RISE*,” Eneko commanded, his voice hoarse, carrying absolute authority. He pointed his lone, blood-slicked arm at Oskur-Zar. Patella, now a colossal bone-mech, let out a shriek that shredded the air. It lumbered forward, each step shaking the entire Hospital Citadel, the earth groaning under its colossal bulk. Oskur-Zar, the God of War, had barely finished admiring his meteor crater when this new, monstrous threat materialized. “A new toy!” Oskur-Zar roared, his deep voice laced with delight. He hefted his colossal war-maul, ignoring the way space frayed around him. “Excellent! I tire of these lesser beings!” He swung his war-maul in a wide, sweeping arc, aiming for Patella’s knee joint. The impact was deafening, a clang of celestial metal against fused bone that sent shockwaves through the building. But Patella didn’t budge. Instead, its scythe-arm whirred, slamming down with incredible speed, not at Oskur-Zar, but at the ground *beside* him. The ground fissured, buckling under the blow, and Oskur-Zar was thrown off balance, stumbling. Eneko, ignoring the throbbing agony of his missing arm, closed in. He still had his necromantic tendrils. Black, viscous discharge streamed from his left hand, lashing out like whips. They wrapped around Oskur-Zar’s legs, constricting, digging into his immortal flesh. The God of War roared, enraged, struggling against the immaterial bindings. Patella seized the opportunity. Its drill-arm spun up, a deafening whine preceding a crushing impact against Oskur-Zar’s armored shoulder. The drill bit in, sparks flying, sacred armor groaning under the assault. Then the barbed whip-arm lashed out, wrapping around Oskur-Zar’s neck, pulling him down, forcing him to his knees. Vael, meanwhile, had recovered his composure, though his quartz-like form still hummed with disquiet. His attention, however, was drawn to Nerea. The ice-wielder was stirring, her head bleeding, but her eyes were already open, fixed on Maite, still trapped in the wavering stasis field. Nerea pushed herself up, wincing. Her fingers sparked with a frost-bitten aura. Vael narrowed his helmet-visage. “Foolish mortal. That field is attuned to my will. You cannot break it.” He watched, amused, as Nerea staggered towards Maite. Ice began to spiderweb across the surface of the stasis field, a delicate filigree against the alien distortion. Vael scoffed. “A child’s trick.” But Nerea’s face was set in a mask of fierce concentration. Her breath plumed white. The cold intensified, not just on the field, but around her, creating a miniature blizzard. The ice coating the field thickened, turning opaque. Then, with a furious cry, Nerea channeled every ounce of her will, every shard of her power, into a narrow, focused point. The stasis field, designed to contain and protect, suddenly *shattered*. A resounding crack echoed through the chaos, and crystalline shrapnel exploded outwards, dissolving into mist. Maite, blinking, her eyes wide with fear and wonder, was free. Nerea, panting, dropped to her knees, but a triumphant, fierce smile touched her lips. She had done it. “Maite!” Eneko roared, the tension in his chest cracking open, momentarily eclipsing his rage. His focus returned instantly, redoubled. Oskur-Zar was still struggling, pinned by Patella’s monstrous might. “You pathetic insect!” Oskur-Zar snarled at Eneko, godfire flaring. “You think this is enough? I am a God of War! I cannot be killed by mere-” Before he could finish, Patella’s crushing fist-arm slammed down, obliterating Oskur-Zar’s head. The God of War’s massive body spasmed once, then collapsed into a heap of sundered plate and meat. His war-maul clattered, rolling across the floor. [DIVINE ENTITY SLAIN. UNLOCKING NEW NECROMANCY SUB-BRANCH: DIVINE SUNDERING.] [ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED: GOD-SLAYER. REWARD: DIVINE CORE EXTRACTION.] [WARNING: DIVINE ESSENCE IS HIGHLY VOLATILE. EXTREME CAUTION ADVISED.] Vael watched the spectacle, a strange, crystalline sound escaping him that might have been a laugh. “You fool. You have merely released him. A God of War does not truly die. His spark will simply coalesce elsewhere, on another world. He will return, and he will be *furious*.” Eneko didn’t even look at Vael. His missing arm still smoked, but his unsevered hand was already alive with black malice. He knelt beside Oskur-Zar’s headless corpse. Black tendrils of marrow-magic burrowed into the sanctified remains, seeking out the core, the spark. He didn't care about Vael’s alien philosophy. He just cared about results. [DIVINE CORE EXTRACTED. REANIMATION PROTOCOL INITIATED.] Oskur-Zar’s body convulsed. Bones re-knitted themselves with a sickening *crack-snap-pop*. Tendons re-wove. Then, from the sundered neck, a new head, identical to the last, burst forth, fully formed and whole. The eyes, however, glowed with the familiar emerald light of Eneko’s undead minions. Oskur-Zar, the revived God of War, sat bolt upright. He looked at his new, monstrous body, at Patella towering over him, at Eneko, who was simply watching him with a cold, expectant gaze. A slow, wide grin spread across Oskur-Zar’s face, revealing teeth that were now unnaturally sharp. “Oh, *this* is magnificent!” Oskur-Zar boomed, his voice resonating with a joyous, unholy glee. He scrambled to his feet, ignoring the discarded war-maul. “To be reborn! To serve a master with proper *anger issues*! The last one was so… *boring*.” He turned to Eneko, his green-lit gaze burning with maniacal enthusiasm. “A high-five, master!” Oskur-Zar, the newly undead God of War, held out his massive hand, palms up. Eneko, his face still etched with fury, met the gesture with his own single, bloody hand. The *SMACK* of their high-five echoed through the ruined ward, a bizarre, darkly comedic punctuation to the chaos. Oskur-Zar pumped his fist. “Now, who do we smash first?!” Vael’s glassen form rippled, and a faint, high-pitched whine emanated from him. He had seen enough. The plan was compromised. This death-weaver was an anomaly, a terrifying force that defied all logic. He couldn’t afford to stay. “This is not over, corpse-monger,” Vael spat, his voice laced with venom. A swirling violet breach tore open behind him. “Enjoy your temporary victory. The Vanguard has many ways to sterilize an infestation.” He stepped backwards, into the swirling void. But before he vanished completely, Vael dropped a small, glass-faceted device. It pulsed once, a faint, almost imperceptible red light, then embedded itself in the floor, humming with sinister intent. The portal snapped shut, leaving only the device, silently painting the Hospital Citadel for an imminent orbital strike.

New Management