Maya's gaze, locked on the unfolding scene, recoiled in horror. Jack, a lifeless puppet, dangled from the Spider Queen’s maw. A strangled gasp escaped her, her hand trembling as it rose to cover her mouth. The sight of Kleo, crumpled and broken, her anguished cries echoing through the cavern, shattered the last vestiges of Maya’s resolve. Unbearable helplessness, cold and heavy, settled in her bones.

  Her eyes flickered to Will. A guttural “No!” tore from her throat.

  He was a whirlwind of desperate motion, a lone figure besieged by a tide of arachnid horrors. Their fangs, razor-sharp and merciless, sank deep into his flesh, their numbers overwhelming him. His knees buckled, his eyes bulging, pink froth bubbling from his lips—the strength of his life now slipping away.

  She was powerless. Powerless to save him. To save any of them.

  As Will’s life ebbed away, so did her own. A searing rage, a desperate, final defiance, consumed her. Her eyes snapped to the Spider Queen, her monstrous visage twisting, morphing into the cruel, familiar features of the Dark Witch.

  Of course. This was the inevitable conclusion, the shadow that had haunted her since Haz Amallh. The Witch’s grasp, long and insidious, was finally closing.

  Flames erupted, licking at her skin, as Maya channeled her magic, a desperate, incandescent fury. She became a blur, a fiery arrow aimed at the Dark Witch spider. She would burn, a blazing pyre, and take the creature with her. Her final act, a defiant scream against the encroaching darkness.

  But fate, or the Spider Queen, had other plans.

  A leg, a brutal, precise strike, slammed into her mid-charge, sending her hurtling through the air. She crashed into a sticky web, her body twisting, pain exploding in her shoulder and ribs. Her vision blurred, her breath ragged.

  Dazed, straining to remain conscious, she felt the skittering advance of countless tiny legs. The spiders, scattered on impact, were returning, their fangs clicking, their hunger palpable. They surrounded her, predators savoring their wounded prey.

  Her thoughts drifted to Will and Jerod, a bitter smile twisting her lips. I’ll see you soon. All hope was extinguished.

  Her eyes fluttered closed. As darkness claimed her, she surrendered.

  Blinded by Kleo’s suffocating darkness, Will pressed his back against the cold, damp wall, his grip tightening on the dagger and sword. He strained to pierce the silence, a silence punctuated only by the Spider Queen’s ominous hum and the skittering, chitinous symphony of countless legs. The indifferent spiders swarmed past him, their attention fixed on the silent, deadly duel at the cavern’s heart.

  His role, a passive sentinel, was clear: wait, observe, and, if things went south, shepherd the others back through the treacherous tunnel. He loathed its impotence, but logic dictated his inaction. Yet, with his allies scattered and the arachnid horde lurking in the shadows, retreat felt less like a strategy and more like a desperate plea to unseen gods.

  When the darkness dissolved, the twist of fate stole his breath. Jack, a broken doll, dangled from the Queen’s maw, his blood a dark, glistening river against the stone. Then, Kleo’s primal scream, a raw, visceral cry of anguish, shattered the paralyzing silence.

  They descended, a living wave of fangs and claws, before he could even react. His instincts, primal and desperate, took over. He swung, slashed, and stabbed, his weapons mere twigs against the overwhelming tide.

  This is it. The cold and stark thought echoed in his mind as the swarm engulfed him. He tried to retreat, to reach Kleo, but his limbs felt leaden, his footing treacherous. The first bite, a searing brand of venom, burned through his thigh, a fire that consumed him from the inside. A choked groan escaped his lips as more fangs, sharp as shards of glass, sank into his flesh—legs, arms, side.

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  His sword, slick with his own blood, slipped from his grasp, clattering against the stone. A ragged gasp tore from his throat as the venom, a cruel poison, surged through his veins, his heart a frantic drumbeat against his ribs. His knees buckled, and he collapsed, the weight of the swarming spiders crushing him.

  His vision blurred, the cavern’s eerie light distorting into a grotesque kaleidoscope. He felt the venom’s icy grip tightening around his heart, a constricting band of agony, as if the spiders’ fangs still clung to his flesh. Blood, thick and metallic, trickled from the corner of his mouth, and a crushing pressure, a vise, built behind his eyes, threatening to shatter them.

  This is how it ends. The thought, distant and detached, drifted through the fog of pain. The world dimmed, the cacophony of battle fading into a dull, distant roar. Will slumped onto the cold stone, his dagger slipping from his numb fingers. His breath, ragged and shuddering, was a final, desperate plea for air. He surrendered, his body a battlefield for the venom's cruel victory.

  The world fractured, shattered into jagged pieces of grief and fury. Jack’s corpse, a grotesque effigy, dangled from the Spider Queen’s jaws, blood a steady, sickening rhythm against the stone. A raw, primal scream, a howl of pure anguish, tore from Kleo’s throat, its echo reverberating through the cavern’s oppressive silence.

  Her knees slammed against the stone, trembling under the weight of her despair. Each sob, a jagged shard of pain, clawed at her throat, the air thick with venomous hate and the searing emptiness of loss. But beneath the surface, a dark, molten force stirred, a buried power that whispered, seductive and inescapable.

  Embrace me.

  Kleo’s nails scraped against the stone, her body convulsing as the whispers grew, resonating with the magic coursing through her veins. It ignited like wildfire, each heartbeat fueling the inferno. Her tears, scalding and bitter, blurred her vision, not with weakness, but with the raw, untamed rage that boiled within her.

  This was the Spider Queen’s doing. Her fault. Her cruelty, her malice, her arrogance. She had taken everything.

  “No…” Kleo growled, her voice a guttural rasp, thick with hatred. “You won’t win. You won’t take him from me.”

  Her fingers twisted into claws, and then, agony. A lightning strike of pain splintering her bones, contorting her muscles, rippling her flesh like a living, writhing thing. Her spine elongated, her body stretched to an impossible height, a scream tearing from her throat, a primal cry of transformation.

  Her skin darkened, not into shadow, but into radiant obsidian streaked with veins of molten gold. Kull magic pulsed across its surface, forming intricate, shimmering patterns, a living tapestry of power. Her cellular and adaptive armor hardened into shifting plates rippling with predatory energy. It was both a shield and a weapon.

  Her hair, once a cascade of golden brown, ignited with molten fire, flowing down her back like liquid sunlight. Her eyes blazed with divine fury, their cerulean depths fractured by streaks of gold, burning with righteous wrath. Her wings, once nubs, and a phantom weight, tore through the air, unfurling in a storm of feathers and ash, their angelic beauty edged with terrifying shadow.

  She was a paradox, a fusion of demonic power and angelic grace.

  Kleo rose, towering over 3 meters tall, her hands flexing, the Kull magic surging to her fingertips, a promise of annihilation. Her pain, forged into strength. Her grief, weaponized.

  The spiders reacted, a tremor rippling through their ranks, their chittering a frantic symphony of skittering legs and clicking mandibles. The webbing overhead vibrated, alive with their electric hum. Their green eyes, once fixed on the Spider Queen, flickered toward Kleo, drawn to her power like moths to a consuming flame.

  The Spider Queen hissed, her multifaceted eyes darting across the cavern, sensing the shift in power. Kleo felt it too—the tide of allegiance, the spiders’ instinctive loyalty, bending to her will.

  Her gaze, cold and unwavering, locked onto the Spider Queen. The Queen’s infernal hum was lost in the roar of Kleo’s rage. The world narrowed to a single, monstrous target.

  Kleo stepped forward, the ground cracking beneath her feet, the earth itself recoiling from her power. Each step a pulse of raw, destructive energy.

  “You wanted me broken,” she said, her voice divinely resonant and layered with fury and righteousness. But now… you’ll see what I truly am.”

  The Spider Queen turned, her sightless eyes narrowing, a flicker of doubt in her predatory gaze.

  Kleo’s wings flared, her muscles coiling with explosive power. Magic surged through her, a torrent of raw energy. The diving power in her blood, now a catalyst, sharpened her focus, amplified her strength.

  She bared her teeth in a feral grin, her voice dripping with malevolence. “Run while you can, spider.”

  The spiders above hissed with pleasure, their loyalty shifting with the tide of power. And then, Kleo charged, the ground shaking with her fury, the air crackling with energy, an unstoppable force of vengeance.