The moment Tithonus stepped into the hallway, they came for him, those strange rat like creatures.
Dozens of them, swarming from shadows like a living plague. Their claws scraped against stone, eyes glowing with hunger. Their jaws clicked in twisted rhythm, and every breath came out in ragged, wet hisses.
Tithonus raised Aetherfang.
The blade shifted, gleaming into a long spear of pure gold. He twirled it once, then lunged forward.
The first Gnarling leapt for his throat.
Too slow.
Tithonus sidestepped, spun, and rammed the spear through its chest. The creature let out a shriek as golden fire raced across its body, burning it from the inside. It fell twitching, and another replaced it.
"Too many."
Tithonus swept the spear in a wide arc, the tip cutting through two more. Blood splattered the floor, thick and black. The spear twisted in his hands, turning into a wide-bladed axe, heavy and brutal.
From Sisyphus, he drew the strength to lift and swing it with ease, crushing skulls, snapping limbs. One Gnarling tried to bite his leg, but he brought the axe down like a hammer, splitting it in two.
A second wave came from behind.
He jumped. The axe turned to a bow mid-air. Light gathered in his palm, shaped into a gleaming arrow, and he loosed it. The arrow struck one rat in the chest and then exploded in a burst of golden light, blasting three more into the walls.
Their screams rang out.
He landed hard. Too hard.
His right arm twisted the wrong way. A Gnarling lunged and bit deep into it.
Tithonus cried out as bone snapped.
He roared and drove the blade, now a sword into its throat. The creature choked, then died.
But the damage was done.
His arm hung useless, blood soaking his sleeve. Another Gnarling pounced.
Too close.
Aetherfang shifted again, wings flared from his back, bright and blinding. He jumped with a mighty flap, launching into the air and slamming into the hallway ceiling. From above, he dove down, slicing through the crowd like falling light.
They howled in pain.
He landed in a crouch, breathing heavy. Sweat dripped from his brow. A dozen more lay dead. The rest backed away, growling, watching.
He grinned. "What? Done already?"
With a final surge, he rushed them. Aetherfang turned into a whip of golden thread. He lashed it across the hallway, wrapping around throats, snapping necks, bursting torsos.
One by one, they fell.
Until only silence remained.
Tithonus dropped to one knee, chest heaving.
Then he looked at his arm.
The flesh was shredded, bone exposed. He gritted his teeth, laid the blade down, and focused.
The light from Aetherfang pulsed again softly.
First came the bone. A new white structure grew from the stump, long and perfect.
Then came the muscles—thin cords wrapping themselves tightly around the bone, knotting into shape.
Last came the skin. Golden at first, then fading into the color of his own, covering the limb like a silk sheet pulled over the dead.
He flexed the fingers.
"It worked."
He stood up and behind him, something whimpered.
He turned around and saw that it was a man. Broken, bloodied, his back against the wall. The same man he had seen the rats feast on.
Tithonus knelt beside him.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I should've come faster. I thought I could…"
The man coughed blood, but smiled faintly.
"Don't… don't blame yourself." His voice was rough, but steady. "You did what you could."
Tithonus reached for Aetherfang, letting its light bloom again. He held it above the man's chest, trying to push the warmth into him. But the world spun. His knees buckled.
"Damn it i used it too much."
He fell back, gasping.
"Stop," the man said, placing a weak hand on Tithonus's. "It's too late for me."
Tithonus looked at him, jaw clenched.
The man nodded toward the far end of the hall.
"The princess… she's still alive. Locked herself in the royal chamber. She's in there, surrounded by those… damn Gnarlings."
"Who?" Tithonus asked, blinking through the fatigue.
"The creatures. That's what we called them. Born in the dark when dawn stopped rising."
The man coughed again, his chest shaking.
"I was going to fetch help. But they got me. Please… save her. She's all that's left."
Tithonus looked toward the hall ahead.
"How many?" he asked.
"Too many," the man said, smiling bitterly. "But if anyone can do it...i believe that it is you."
Tithonus nodded once.
Then the man's hand slipped from his own.
He was dead.
Tithonus stood, wiping the blood from his mouth.
The blade pulsed in his grip.
"Rest now," he said quietly.