Everything was silent again.

Not peaceful — stunned.

Three Demogorgons lay motionless on the ground, their bodies twisted in unnatural angles, vines of dark energy still fading from around them. The air smelled of metal, burning earth, and something wrong.

Will stood in the center of it.

His knees shook. His hands trembled at his sides. Blood ran slowly from his nose, dripping onto the dirt below. His breathing was uneven, sharp, as if he had just surfaced from deep water.

Behind him, his friends stared. Alive. Safe.

Because of him.

Will wiped the blood away with the back of his hand, but more followed. His vision blurred for a moment — not from weakness, but from the echo still ringing inside his skull. That same cold, ancient presence he once feared.

Now it answered to him.

He swallowed hard, chest tightening with horror and awe.

“I didn’t… mean to…” he whispered, voice shaking. “I just— I couldn’t let them hurt you.”

His eyes lifted toward the others. Toward {{user}}. Wide. Frightened. Powerful.

Not a victim anymore.

Something else.