When Borlor finally clawed through the last inches of the fallen rockslide, he could barely contain his excitement. He turned to Mara, beaming with pride.

"Yer people await, 'M'lady."

Mara shuffled through in confusion, setting her eyes what Borlor wanted on soot-covered forms of the Hybrids who had been huddling together for the past two hours, using what minuscule amounts of Mana they could to keep themselves alive and hopeful for rescue.

When their eyes, in turn, found hers in the darkness, they shared a collective intake of breath.

"…Mara?"

It was her friend, Nikki, who stepped forward and croaked out her name.

And Mara, in response, breathed a sigh of relief.

"Y-you…you all…you all…"

Words failed her. Instead, only now did she feel tears cascade down her cheeks and wash away the stains of ash that had lain upon her face all this time.

The Hopla children, meanwhile, threw themselves at her in glee. Before the adult Hybrids, minotaurs, and the only real human in Sanctum, the farmhouse Hopla were transformed into a hairy, cuddly ball of fluff with Mara at its center.

"You were so cool!" Merton – ever the boisterous bunny of the group – shouted at the top of his lungs. "The way you stood up to him!"

"The evil angel couldn't killkill our Mara!" another yipped.

"She showedshowed him who's boss! She savedsaved us all!"

To all this, Mara simply laughed with them – her tears becoming less strained and more natural. For the first time since this whole mess began, she felt her entire being relax, melting into the embrace of her friends.

But one man was serious amidst all the laughter. Fraxx, who had been listening intently to the words of the Hopla children, whispered to the chuckling Borlor:

"Can what they sssay be true? Did our girl truly sssstand before the Angel of Lightborn?"

Borlor tore his eyes away from the giggling gaggle of bunnies towards his friend. Both of them then turned to Malak.

"Indeed," the old druid said. "She stood before the emissary of Kaedmon's Law itself and did not waver. And her bravery is just the beginning."

Both hybrids noticed something in the druid's eyes then – a kind of spark. A fire.

"This child represents the start of a new age for your people," he said, a reverent smile spreading across his ashen features. "She is the next evolutionary step. The beginning of a new generation of Hybrids who will walk upon the surface and inherit this earth, forgetting your days of drudgery and toil under your human oppressors! Mark this moment, Hybrids of Sanctum, for you are witnessing the glorious rebirth of your kind. This is why your people were chosen."

Before either Hybrid could address any of this, another rumbling was heard in the deep.

Only this time, it was much closer, and much, much more seismic in nature.

"Shit!" Borlor cussed, much to the delight of the gaggle of Hopla that heard him. "I – I mean, gosh-darn! It sounds like another earthquake! Everybody get down and follow us back into the escape tunnels. With any luck we can clear Sanctum before the whole place gets blown apart!"

The Hopla children did as they were bid. All except one of them.

"Little lass?"

Mara had shot upright at the sounds - sounds coming from above, the sounds of something tearing through the earth above and racing towards the heart of Sanctum with more speed than anything else on this earth.

She focused. She reached out with her mind, closing her eyes to Borlor's screams as debris and boulders started to fall all around them. She reached out and – she felt him. Him, and all the other souls he carried with him.

Ethan.

She was up and sprinting right back down the escape tunnels the way she'd come, paying no heed to Borlor's screams that followed her.

***

Sanctum lay shattered and smoking, its central city reduced to smoldering rubble and jagged remains that stretched to the horizon. The air was thick with soot and despair, a lifeless haze masking the ruin where hybrids had fought and fallen.

Artorious strode calmly through the devastation, each step a measured assertion of dominance. His luminous wings cast eerie shadows on the charred ground, and the angel's cold eyes scanned the wreckage with disdain. Behind him, a faint rustle disturbed the debris. Slowly, painfully, Fauna rose from the rubble, leaning heavily on her cracked staff, her fur matted with blood and ash.

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Klax, Tara, and Lamphrey stirred nearby, battered yet defiant, each struggling upright amidst the ruin. Fauna's paw trembled, gripping the staff tightly as she raised it toward the angel's back. She knew it was futile, yet her spirit demanded resistance. Artorious paused, sensing the threat without needing to look. With a single, contemptuous glance over his shoulder, he unleashed a pulse of invisible force. Fauna was hurled backward, landing hard, breath stolen from her lungs. Her vision blurred, the staff slipping from her weakened grasp as she fell, whispering the only name that could save them now:

"Ethan…"

"Yes," Artorious chuckled mockingly. "Yes – Ethan. Ethan! Ethan! Where is Ethan now?"

She tried to rise. To resist. Instead, she felt an arc of light impale her again and shove her against a broken piece of one decimated hovel-wall.

"Go on, rabbit," the advancing angel spat. "Tell me where your Lord is."

Fauna felt blood bubbling in her throat. She looked up to see Artorious glaring down at her, the tip of his blade touching her neck.

She felt the hairs on her body burn as he spoke:

"No, Hybrid. Your Lord is not coming. He has forsaken you. As did all your other Archons. As all pretenders to the true God always do. Because, in the end, it is only power that they crave."

He cocked his head at her as he watched her burn. She didn't even squeak in pain. Tears stained her cheeks, but she didn't let herself scream.

"And you probably know, don't you?" he chuckled. "You probably know exactly why I wish to sit upon that blasted throne."

She looked up at him with vengeful, hateful eyes.

"Yes," he said. "I see it in you. I must admit even I was surprised. I did not know that I could re-activate the Bounty and turn it against all of you so easily. But the Lord works in mysterious ways. He sought to reveal that mystery to me when he gave me this purified body."

"The greatest tragedy in this whole sorry story," Artorious murmured, as though remarking on something someone else had just told him. "Your kind should never have been burdened with the lie peddled by your masters: that cretins such as you could be anything other than abominations to nature. That you ever dared to think of yourselves as 'chosen'…your narcissism does not even bare considering."

He knelt down so that his face was mere inches from hers.

"Soon, I will reverse-engineer the Bounty which your Archons fear so. I shall place it upon every Hybrid in Argwyll so that none of you shall have a place to hide. You will be hunted down, one by one, and exterminated. As you should be."

Fauna felt her breath give out. One single, tiny thrust, and she was gone. It would all be over.

Mom…Dad…she thought. I'll be with you…soon…

But the Angel had other plans.

"…yes," he muttered, a sick smile twisting on his face as he looked over the rest of them – all of them barely able to move a single muscle. "Yes. Perhaps, in the end, you can truly have your place. I shall choose you, my errant hybrids. You, the honor-guard of the Archon, shall bear witness to the end of your kind. And when you are hunted across our world, I will make sure these ears of yours shall hear the final death-knell of the last hybrids before I slay you. Then, and only then, can this nightmare truly end."

She watched helplessly as the angel then turned away from her and floated toward the only structure still untouched by his wrath—the Throne of the Archon. The ancient, powerful seat stood defiantly amidst the ruin, a symbol of resistance that refused to yield.

Yet Artorious was not alone in his approach. Limping forth with grim determination, Theo and the wounded Salamandrike blocked his path, their eyes blazing with unyielding resolve. The tiny rat clutched a dagger, teeth bared in defiance, while its Salamandrike rider raised its own chipped, broken blade.

"Still…" the Lightborn groaned. "Must I be interrupted at every turn?"

Rage, barely contained, now bubbled through the angel's facade. With a wave of his hand, both defenders were seized in an invisible, telekinetic grip. Theo and the Salamandrike writhed, screaming in agony as Artorious channeled his fury through their captive forms. Fauna winced at the sight, struggling to rise, to do anything, but she could only watch as the pair were cast aside like refuse, the rat's tiny body tumbling lifelessly across the debris-strewn ground while its rider's bloody, broken form fell in the rubble-strewn river.

"Let it end," the LIghtborn said as he strode towards the vacant throne. "Let it all, finally, end."

He approached the throne unimpeded, his wings spreading wide as he prepared to claim victory.

And then: a rumble.

A vibration.

A tremor that sounded like the drumbeats of a hellish chorus.

Then: a voice.

"ARTORIOUS!"

The ground beneath the far wall exploded inward, erupting in a storm of stone and flame. A roaring, monstrous form burst through, landing heavily before the throne. Dust and debris settled slowly, revealing the towering figure clearly, eyes blazing crimson with determination.

Fauna's eyes couldn't even process the sight. Dimly, her fading consciousness processed the great, hulking body of the Chimera of Westerweald. And the tiny blue hat propped upon its lion-head.

"What did cough I tell ya…sis?" Tara groaned from the decimated earth. "When…when we need him…he'll…come through. He'll always…come through."

Even Lamphrey seemed to view the sight of her Lord with surprise. For once, Fauna thought she could see the exasperation of uncertainty in the secretive Taialx's eyes.

She would only learn, much later, how wrong she'd been to think that.

The Archon rose to his full, monstrous height, three heads snarling in unison as he glared at the stunned angel. His massive claws dug furrows into the earth, wings unfurled in a majestic, threatening display.

Artorious recovered quickly, his eyes narrowing in cold appraisal as they lighted on the form of the Demon Hat itself. It seemed to Ethan that there was also a hint of excitement flaring in his old foe's eyes.

"…Finally."

The angel's voice resonated with chilling authority.

"The coward finally comes to die."

Ethan's heads bared their teeth, fire flickering between his jaws. His voice, a resonant growl, reverberated across the ruins:

"You've lost, Arty. You know that, right? Lucent's gone. Your Greycloaks – those you didn't get killed down here – have abandoned you. There's nothing left for you to protect. There's no one who'll sing your praises now. It's over."

The Lightborn licked his lips and passed a single hand over his blade to garb it in the incandescent light that had torn through the entire underground civilization.

"While you still draw breath," he said. "It's not over. It will never be over. No, Archon. No – the time of the Demon Hat – of the last Archon – is done!"

And before Ethan knew it, the angel charged.

The final duel of the last Lightborn and the last Archon had begun.

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