The vault’s polished basalt walls groaned, buckling inward as Tavlos’s mutated form ballooned, a colossal, tumorous mass of shifting muscle and raw nerve. What had once been a man was now a fleshy horror, a grotesque parody of strength, all chitinous plates and weeping pustules, each pulsation of its body threatening to burst the reinforced chamber. It filled the space, a living, breathing blockade of putrescence that sealed the only exit. The air thickened, sweet and metallic with the scent of volatile magic and decaying flesh. “Well, that’s certainly… a development,” Vondris murmured, her voice unnervingly calm. Her eyes, usually so sharp with calculation, narrowed further, assessing the new threat. She paid no heed to the way the floor trembled with each thud of the aberration's immense, multi-jointed limbs. “Sub-optimal, but not insurmountable.” Rhozal snarled, a low, guttural rumble that vibrated through the floor. His pelt bristled, every hair on end, his amber eyes blazing with an almost feral intensity. He had moved instinctively, pushing Vondris behind him, his body a shield against the swiftly expanding horror. The air around him shimmered, his talons elongating, crackling with raw arcane charge. Even through his pain, his loyalty was an unshakeable bedrock. “Stay back,” he growled, his voice rough. “Its aura… it’s poison.” Vondris scoffed, already tapping furiously on her wrist interface. “Aura-based attacks are just glorified pressure points if you know the exact frequency. Give me a moment to recalibrate.” The interface glowed, displaying a complex architectural schematic of the vault, overlaid with real-time bio-scans of the swelling Tavlos-thing. She dismissed the encroaching tendrils of sickly black mist that oozed from the beast, brushing against her skin with a nauseating chill. It felt like walking through a damp charnel house. “Frequency identified. The defensive shell of its external carapace is surprisingly uniform, but the internal pressure points… Ah, there it is.” Her finger jabbed at a pulsating, glowing node near what might have once been the creature’s left shoulder. “A hyper-concentrated burst to that locus, Rhozal. Direct hit. Its entire bone frame will collapse inward like a damp biscuit.” Rhozal didn't question her. He launched himself forward, a blur of tawny fur and furious talons, moving with impossible speed despite the throbbing pain that radiated through his limbs. The Blood-Rot had begun to manifest in angry, purple veins that pulsed beneath his skin, but his movements were still precise, devastating. He dodged a sweeping, club-like arm, the appendage pulverizing the wall where he’d stood an instant before, sending chips of vitreous stone flying like shrapnel. He aimed for the spot Vondris had indicated, a primal roar ripping from his throat. Arcane power coalesced around his claws, forming razor-sharp talons of pure force. He struck, a blinding flash of gilded light, rending the grotesque mass. Tavlos shrieked, a sound like grinding stone and torn metal. The titan recoiled as corrosive black ichor erupted from the wound. But the structural collapse Vondris predicted didn't happen. Instead, the wound began to swiftly stitch itself closed, pus-filled tendrils knitting back together with horrifying speed. “Recalibrating,” Vondris said, her tone sharp, a flicker of irritation crossing her features. “Seems its regenerative properties are… accelerated. An oversight. My apologies.” She wasn’t apologising for the miscalculation, but for the inconvenience it caused to her perfect plan. “We need a sustained attack. Target the neural ganglia clusters, then the core power sac. It’s a three-phase takedown. Rhozal, provide cover. I’ll conjure the arcane disruptors.” He didn't hesitate. Tavlos lunged again, its intent focused solely on Vondris, its many eyes glowing with malevolent intelligence. Rhozal roared, intercepting the blow with his own body. The impact was sickening, a sound of crushing bone and splitting flesh. He flew backward, slamming into the opposite wall with enough force to crack the stonework. A whimper escaped him, raw and involuntary. The purple veins on his skin pulsed erratically, turning black. A rattling gasp shuddered through his chest. “Rhozal!” Vondris cried out, a rare note of genuine alarm in her voice. The connection thrummed, a sudden, searing pain through her own chest. Her calculations flickered, threatening to unravel. He struggled to rise, his limbs trembling violently, the rot consuming him at an exponential rate. His fur was matted with ichor, and a gash on his flank oozed black blood. Tavlos disregarded the fallen beastman, its grotesque head swiveling towards Vondris, a sickening gurgle of triumph escaping its fleshy maw. Its intent was clear: crush the irritant, silence the one who dared expose its insignificance. A massive, club-like limb swung towards her, fast enough to flatten a reinforced tank. She saw it coming. Her mind raced, a thousand variables, a million possibilities, but there was no time to evade, no angle of escape. She braced for impact, already formulating a counter-spell she knew she wouldn't have time to cast. But Rhozal moved. Even half-dead, even with the Blood-Rot consuming him, he lunged, a desperate, valiant roar ripping from his throat. He threw himself in front of her, taking the full brunt of the blow. The force of it was immense, a sickening crack that echoed through the vault. He didn’t fly backward this time. He simply collapsed, crumpling at her feet, his body a broken, twisted mess. His eyes, fixed on her, began to glaze over, the golden light dimming. [CO-DEPENDENCY PROTOCOL: CRITICAL FAILURE IMMINENT. HOST LIFE-FORCE DEGRADATION DETECTED. IMMEDIATE INTERVENTION REQUIRED.] Vondris’s breath caught. The pain in her chest flared, sharp and agonizing. This wasn’t just a tactical setback; this was a personal catastrophe. Her jaw tightened, her hands clenching into fists as she knelt beside him, the cold panic a stark contrast to her usual unflappable demeanor. The sheer injustice of it, the idiocy of this suicidal loyalty, infuriated her. Why would he do that? Why sacrifice everything for *her*? Before she could even begin to process the surge of unfamiliar emotion, a shimmering portal ripped open in the air, disgorging a disheveled figure. Okhmar, the pharmacist, stood there, lab coat askew, clipboard clutched in one hand, a pen tucked behind his ear. “Oh, for the love of the Loom, you two are utterly dreadful test subjects!” Okhmar exclaimed, adjusting his spectacles with a huff. He disregarded the colossal, mutated Tavlos-thing, which paused its advance, seemingly bewildered by the sudden appearance of the old man. “Dying prematurely, Rhozal? Honestly, your biometrics were just getting interesting! And Vondris, your co-dependency markers were about to hit peak saturation! All that precious data, ruined!” He strode over, stepping over Rhozal’s rapidly failing form as if it were a minor inconvenience, completely unfazed by the monstrous figure of Tavlos mere feet away. He scribbled something on his clipboard, muttering, “Yes, yes, terminal phase of Blood-Rot. As predicted. Though the co-dependent heart failure is a bit early. Must adjust the half-life of the Phase Two booster.” “Okhmar, the exit is sealed,” Vondris said, her voice strained, the pain in her chest intensifying with each beat. “And he’s dying.” “Minor details, minor details,” Okhmar waved a dismissive hand. “Always so dramatic, you young ones. Lucky for you, I anticipated your complete and utter lack of foresight.” He rummaged in a pocket of his lab coat, pulling out two glowing syringes. One pulsed with a vibrant, emerald green liquid, the other shimmered with a dull, ink black. He held them out, his eyes twinkling with senile amusement. “Here we are. The ‘Exit Strategy’ and the ‘Loyalty Override.’ The green one, my dear, contains a highly concentrated neurotoxin designed to instantly sever the parasitic connection to the Loom of Fate, effectively deleting Tavlos from existence. It’s a one-shot kill, guaranteed. It will save your life, and allow you to escape.” He then gestured to the black syringe. “This one… this one is the finalized Phase Two booster for Rhozal. It will cure the Blood-Rot, permanently. However, it requires a significant energy transfer from your Interdimensional Logistics Interface to stabilize. Think of it as a… very expensive co-pay. All your accumulated points, gone. Your dream retirement dimension? Poof. Gone forever. You’ll be stuck flitting through realms, a fixer without an endgame, eternally. A rather poetic punishment for your arrogant miscalculations, wouldn’t you say?” Vondris looked from the two syringes to Rhozal’s fading form, then to the monstrous Tavlos, looming over them. One choice guaranteed her survival and restored her freedom. The other… the other saved him, but cost her everything she had ever worked for, every point, every sacrifice, every painful mission to build her perfect, quiet retirement. Her hand trembled as she reached out.

Contraindications of Fate