The Rotting Cathedral trembled beneath the weight of something unseen, something ancient. The torches flickered, their green flames writhing as though afraid. Selene Nocturna stood at the altar, her bloodstained fingers tracing the sigils carved into its surface.
Outside, the Fog of Unmaking still drifted through the ruins, whispering the last memories of the alchemist it had devoured. Their name was already fading, their existence unspooled thread by thread.
Selene inhaled deeply, feeling the remnants of their essence coil into her lungs.
"A poor sacrifice," she muttered, dissatisfied. "But necessary."
A sound—faint, but deliberate.
She turned sharply, eyes narrowing as a figure emerged from the gloom.
The mercenary was battered, his armor cracked, his breathing labored—but his eyes burned with hatred. He had followed her.
"You should have stayed buried with the others," Selene murmured, her voice both amused and venomous.
Kruger ignored the taunt. His blade gleamed, coated in an alchemical venom meant for one thing—undoing her magic.
"No more tricks, Nocturna." He spat blood onto the stone. "No more fog, no more whispers. Just you and me."
Selene tilted her head, then laughed softly.
"How adorable," she cooed, stepping away from the altar. The candlelight flickered across her blackened lips, her scarred, smiling face.
"You think you're the hunter?"
His sword sliced through empty air.
The fog surged behind him, twisting—and then she stepped from it, her hand outstretched.
Venomous claws lashed across his back.
Kruger roared, staggering forward, but Selene was already moving, circling, like a specter in the darkness.
"You are a fool, Kruger," she whispered, her voice suddenly behind him.
Another slash—deeper this time.
Blood splattered against the cold stone.
Kruger fell to one knee, panting. His grip on the sword tightened.
Selene loomed over him, her silhouette half-swallowed by the mist.
"I wonder," she mused, kneeling beside him, "what will the Fog make of you?"
Kruger lashed out with the last of his strength, plunging the alchemical blade straight through her ribs.
A hiss—not of pain, but of anger.
The weapon's venom burned against her flesh, searing her essence.
For a moment, the shadows around her staggered.
Kruger grinned, despite the blood in his mouth.
"Not so untouchable now, are you?"
Selene exhaled sharply, looking down at the blade buried in her side.
A slow, chilling, terrifying laugh.
She grabbed the sword with her bare hands, her flesh blistering—and pulled it deeper.
Kruger's expression twisted in shock.
"Untouchable?" Selene whispered, leaning close. Her breath smelled of rot.
The Fog of Unmaking surged forward.