No. No, no, no. This wasn’t happening.
“Just, hold on, okay?! W-We can fix this! Just stay with me, dammit!”
Malik only kept that broken smile, head lolling to the side like he barely had control over it anymore.
Layla squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head harder.
“No! No, I’m not—No! We’re not doing this! We can find a way! There has to be a way!”
Ali Baba just kept muttering under his breath.
“I knew it, I knew it, I knew it, I should’ve—I should’ve stopped you. I should’ve told you—”
“TOLD ME WHAT?! DON’T REPEAT YOURSELF! SAY IT!”
Layla screamed at him and Ali Baba finally looked at her, his face streaked with tears, with grief.
“Drowned Lotuses… they don’t just die, little night. They consume. The moment he touched them… he was already lost.”
Layla’s breath caught.
She’d heard the name before, in passing. In rumors. In stories merchants told around the fire, voices hushed like saying it too loud might summon something they weren’t ready to face.
People who drowned in Corruption.
People who lost themselves.
People who—
No.
No, she wasn’t going to let that happen.
Not to him.
She turned back to Malik, who was still standing, still twitching.
And his eyes.
Black. Hollow.
Dead.
Layla shook her head for the tenth time, harder, wild, desperate.
“No. I don’t believe that. I refuse to believe that!”
Malik let out a sound—half laugh, half choke.
His body seized up, like something was pulling at him from the inside.
His left arm, the one that had snapped, suddenly jerked back into place, the bone resetting with a sickening crunch.
She staggered back, clutching her chest.
“Malik…?”
His lips twisted, that smile flickering—just for a second—before his head jerked unnaturally to the side again.
His voice dropped into something deeper.
“It’s too late.”
His right arm shot out. Fast.
Layla barely dodged.
Whoosh!
The force of it blew past her, a gust of wind that sent sand scattering.
And then he moved.
Ali Baba was shouting something, but it was all noise in Layla’s ears.
Her heart was pounding, everything in her screaming to run. But she couldn’t.
She wouldn’t.
Malik’s fist paused right in front of her, a fraction from ending her life.
His other hand’s fingers clawed at his face like he was trying to rip something out.
“Ngh—Get—OUT—”
His voice returned, it was Malik again.
“K-Kill me, Layla… before I—”
Though not for long.
Before he could complete that sentence, his body jerked for the final time, and then suddenly, he wasn’t struggling anymore.
His head straightened. A slow grin stretched across his lips.
Not Malik’s grin. Something else’s.
“Ah.”
The voice that left his lips wasn’t his.
It was smoother, amused. Dark.
“So this is the one he cares for.”
Layla’s blood ran cold.
The thing wearing Malik’s body took a step forward, rolling his shoulders like he was testing his new limbs.
“Mm. He fought hard. Strong will. But not strong enough—”
Malik paused, his right hand snapping around his throat.
Rushing forward, Ali Baba grabbed Layla’s arm.
“We have to run.”
She ripped away from him.
“No.”
“Layla, we can’t fight this—”
“I SAID NO!”
She turned back to Malik, her hands clenched into fists, nails biting into her palms.
“Malik, I know you’re in there! Fight it! You’re stronger than this, you hear me?! You’re stronger than anything!”
For a moment, just a moment, something flickered in his expression.
A twitch. A hesitation… And then the thing sneered.
“Oh, he hears you. But he’s too weak to stop me. Us.”
It cracked its neck again, that awful sound making Layla’s stomach churn.
“You should listen to your father and run.”
Layla gritted her teeth.
“Like Hell I will!”
Ali Baba cursed under his breath.
“Dammit, Layla—”
The thing sighed.
“Very well.”
And then it moved again, too fast, too unnatural.
Layla barely had time to react before it was in front of her, hand outstretched—
Swiish!
A dagger flashed between them.
A thin cut appeared on the creature’s cheek.
It stopped. Touched the wound. Licked the blood off its finger.
Then Malik—no, not Malik, the thing inside him—turned to the dagger’s owner.
Ali Baba.
“You can kill me, but don’t touch my daughter.”
It tilted its head, seemingly considering those words.
“Give me just one reason…”
Its grin disappeared.
“One. Just one. One-one-one-one-one-one-one-one-one-one-one-one-one-one-one-one-one-one-one-one-one-one-one-one-one-one-one-one-one-one-one-one-one-one-one-one-one-one-one-one-one-one-one-one-one-one-one-one-one-one! Just one! One reason! JUST GIVE ME ONE FUCKING REASON NOT TO KILL HER.”
Before Ali Baba could say or do anything, it reached him.
Layla could only watch as it grabbed his wrist. Tight.
“This… this isn’t you.”
Ali Baba’s breath hitched.
“You have to fight it, son.”
Son.
That word.
That Goddamn word.
For a split second his real voice—hoarse, desperate—forced its way through gritted teeth.
“Don’t let me kill you… run.”
Layla screamed:
“NO—”
The thing returned. It smiled.
And then it whispered, too soft, too cruel:
“Break.”
A sickening snap echoed through the air.
Ali Baba’s purple eyes turned black.
He crumpled to the ground.
Thud…
Layla’s vision blurred.
Rage. Despair. Everything mixed together into something unbearable.
“Malik…”
Yet, even now, she didn’t go blindingly attack him.
“I know you’re in there. Please… come back.”
It looked at her in surprise.
It didn’t move.
It didn’t speak.
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“AHH—HHRHHKHHH—KHAH—HAH—HAH!”
It laughed.
A dry, rattling sound, like wind whistling through a hollow skull.
It wasn’t his laugh. It wasn’t even human.
Layla’s world shattered.
She cried.
“WHY?!”
Screamed.
“MALIK!”
Begged.
“PLEASE!”
Layla still didn’t run.
“I CAN’T LOSE YOU TOO!”
She should have.
Every instinct in her body told her to listen to him, to get away, to survive.
But she couldn’t.
Not when he was still standing there, fighting Corruption.
Not when he was still trying.
This thing was lying, Malik would never lose.
“Malik.”
She got close to him and grabbed him.
Not gently. Not like she was afraid.
She held onto him like she could drag him back from whatever Hell he Fell into.
“You promised me… You promised me you’d always protect me.”
It looked down on her. Still.
“…”
No reaction.
Fine.
Then she’d force one.
Her fist slammed into his chest, right onto his second heart.
“Wake. Up.”
Another punch.
“Wake the fuck up.”
She wasn’t crying anymore. She was furious.
“You swore, Malik!”
Her voice cracked.
“So don’t you dare—”
His body… staggered. Layla’s breath hitched.
And for a moment—just a moment—his real eyes came back.
He looked at her. Really looked at her.
Like he was fighting to hold onto something, anything.
His lips moved. Barely audible.
“Kill me.”
Layla froze.
Her hands trembled.
“I c-can’t.”
His face twisted, whole body shook like he was trying to rip himself apart from the inside.
“Layla.”
His voice was broken.
“Please.”
Tears burned in her eyes.
She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t.
But she had to.
Layla could no longer deny it.
Because if she didn’t—
If she hesitated—
She’d lose him forever.
Her hands clenched around the hilt of his curved sword.
She unsheathed it.
And then—
“Little night.”
She looked up.
And he smiled.
Not the corrupted, twisted grin from before.
Not the thing’s smile.
A… happy smile.
Like he was thanking her for it.
Her breath caught.
For a moment, just a moment, she wasn’t here.
She was somewhere else. A memory.
The Shams had just begun to set, painting the wasteland gold.
They were just done with a quest, one that required Malik to fight quite a few Magi.
Back then, she was scared for him and he noticed that, so, as she sat next to him, he initiated conversation for once, nudging her shoulder.
“You should worry about yourself more. No one’s strong enough to take me down. Maybe only God… So… Don’t worry. I won’t die and you won’t either.”
She had rolled her eyes at that, dismissing such exaggerations.
But, as nonsensical as that was, she had believed him.
She had always believed him.
The memory shattered.
She was here again.
The thing in front of her wasn’t Malik anymore.
Her fingers tightened around the hilt.
“…You cruel man.”
And she swung.
Blink.