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An invisible, shimmering cage surrounded each of our spirits.
Every movement they made was met with a shower of ethereal sparks as they pressed against their confines.
The realization hit me like a ton of bricks.
Sneik’s support wasn’t a fighter; he was a trapper, someone skilled in the art of spiritual confinement.
The alien presence I felt was the essence of the cage.
It was ethereal and otherworldly, and it clung to our spirit animals like an unshakable shadow.
My tiger, previously a symbol of power and grace, now looked pitiable.
It prowled the perimeter of its prison, eyes filled with panic, its growls low and fearful.
The air felt thick, almost suffocating.
Every breath I took was labored, each inhale a battle in itself.
The weight on my chest was unrelenting, like being trapped under a mountain.
In my peripheral vision, the blurred form of Sneik loomed large.
I could hear the soft thud of his footsteps on the sand as he approached, his stride confident, triumphant.
He was close now, so close I could smell the musky odor of his body.
Sneik’s laughter, low and mocking, filled the pit. “Did you really think you could defeat me with mere spirits?” he taunted. “You may have been a formidable opponent, Ashale, but without your precious spirits, you’re nothing.”
His words stung each one a slap in the face.
Despair threatened to engulf me.
I wanted to scream, to fight back, but the pain was too much.
Every movement, every thought, was overshadowed by the relentless agony.
But through the haze of pain, a single thought pierced the fog.
Ashale and I were in this together.
We had faced insurmountable odds before and emerged victorious.
We had each other, and that bond was unbreakable.
Drawing on every ounce of strength, I managed to lift my head, my vision still blurred but slowly clearing.
Across from me, Ashale was doing the same, our eyes meeting in a silent exchange of determination.
But it was Sneik’s face that drew my attention next.
His grin, wide and malicious, stretched across his features, his eyes gleaming with malevolent delight.
He could sense his impending victory, and he was savoring every moment of it.
As darkness threatened to claim me once more, that image — Sneik’s triumphant grin — burned itself into my mind, a promise of the battle yet to come.
* * *
