The creature watched them as they slowly began their ascent through the narrow but shattered remains of vast walls and floors—tilted, broken, and mangled by a battle far beyond their rank. It felt as if some unknown entities had decided to toy with the structure the way a child would with a puzzle—mixing, removing, and rejoining pieces however they pleased. Damon wasn't even sure anymore if he was climbing across a floor, hanging from a ceiling, or scaling a wall. His gaze remained fixed on the creature, half-expecting some kind of attack. But it did nothing—only sank back into the water. Even in the depths, he still felt its gaze on him, malice that could not be hidden, and its powerful but subdued aura of higher rank. He wasn't sure if it had given up or was simply territorial. Either way, he was glad they made it out… This would be a long climb; falling would mean death in the jaws of whatever that creature was called. The climb was bound to be eventful. His hold around Evangeline's waist loosened slightly. She leaned her head away, glanced at him for a moment, then looked back down at the water. She let out a breath of relief, then shifted her eyes back to him. "You can let go of my hips now…" Damon gave a crooked smile at her words. "Sure—happy swimming…" She quickly grabbed onto him, uncertain if he might actually let her fall. "I meant let me down by a wall… oh, forget it—I'll do it myself." Without another word, she shifted her weight. With a small leap, she gripped a jagged side of the wall—her fist shattered the old stone, carving out a handhold. She staggered for a moment, nearly slipping—but caught herself. Damon sneered. "Would've been much easier if I pulled us up." Without waiting, the wires of his omnidirectional gear grew taut, pulling him upward until he was side by side with Sylvia, the first to ascend. Their eyes met briefly, and for a split second, he remembered how she kissed him. He quickly looked away, gaze tilting skyward. "How are you guys holding up?" he called. "What do you think?" Leona muttered. "It's not like we were trapped in flooded underground ruins for days, then crammed into a box, then forced to run across thin ice—literally. And now we're climbing to goddess knows where…" Damon sneered. "Great, so you're alright then." Leona nodded with a relaxed expression. "Yeah, actually, I'm doing pretty great…" Xander jumped across chunks of broken stone, using his gravity magic to stay light as a feather. "As long as nothing else happens, we'll be fine." Everyone stopped. All eyes slowly turned toward Xander. Sylvia sighed—a warning, coming from the seer of the group. "You just jinxed us." Leona glared at him. "Way to go, Xander." Damon followed up, expression dry. "I knew this idiot was going to get us killed. I just didn't think it'd be with his mouth…" Xander's eyebrow twitched. He turned to Evangeline. "Tell me you don't believe this nonsense…" Evangeline sighed. "If I'm the one who ends up dead or corrupted… bring a flower to my grave." Damon blinked, perching on a shattered balcony as he pushed himself upward. "That got dark real quick…" Sylvia gave him a distant smile. "If I die… take my corpse somewhere I've never been. Bury me there… maybe your hometown." Damon winced. Actually he came from a village. "Okay… that's not creepy at all." Matia had been quiet all this time, looking deep in thought. "If I die, I want to die a warrior's death. Fighting… with a sword in my hand. That way… my father won't think I'm pathetic." She raised her head—expression cold and sharp. "If I become corrupted… kill me. I'd rather be dead than live like that." Leona turned to Damon. "How did we go from teasing Xander about being a jinx… to something this dark?" Damon opened his mouth to say something—only to pause when Matia spoke again. "I've seen what happens to creatures that get consumed by the rot. We have Ascendant armor, so we have resistance—but we're not immune…" She gritted her teeth, emotion flashing across her face—something Damon hadn't seen in her for a long time. "My people value beauty above all. That's why wingless fairies are shunned. I spent my whole life feeling inadequate. I refuse to feel that way when I die. Becoming something hideous… monstrous… I'd rather die." Damon bit his lip. He didn't even know what to say. "You won't be corrupted…" Matia's gaze never left his. He looked down, then back up at the dark-haired fairy—the one who'd sacrificed her wings for him. "If you become corrupted… I will kill you. I promise." Matia smiled, nodding. "I'll hold you to that." Leona glanced between them, looking disgusted. "Geez, you guys are so dark and edgy. Seriously… did your brains get fried from everything we've been through?" Her voice wavered—frustrated and shaking. Then, the tears came. "No one's going to die… we're going to go home. All of us. We've made it this far…" She clenched her fists. "We're gonna make it. We'll all live—we'll all go home." Damon clenched his own fist. She was right. They had to live. "Right… forget what I said, Matia. We'll live. We'll go home. And your wish is—" He stopped. Everyone was staring—not at him, but behind. Or… above him. He sighed. This place was slanted, twisted—nothing would be easy to fight in here. Damon felt the hairs on his neck rise before his perception even picked them up… Then he felt it—something entering the range of his shadow perception. Its form was strange… its shadow even stranger. Damon slowly turned his face, eyes scanning upward. Black, human-shaped phantoms were drifting down from above—slow, weightless. He had seen many things since being trapped in Lysithara. Some strange. Some eldritch. But these… These were rare. Not unheard of, but rare. The dangerous kind. The unpredictable kind. Especially hovering over a deep pool of water—with something still lurking below. Sylvia's face paled. Her whisper barely escaped her lips: "…Shades."