The merged creature moves, and the air around it fills with dark energy. It moves on four limbs—powerful, versatile appendages somewhere between hands and legs, each ending in razor-sharp claws. Each limb is a weapon, each one capable of casting spells or tearing apart enemies. Dark energy crackles around it, and the very ground beneath it begins to decay, plants withering, life draining away.

  "This is bad," Tara thinks, realization dawning. "We're out of energy, and this thing... we can't fight it. We need to run. Now!"

  Clone 1 dashes, vanishing from its position, appearing 15 meters away. Clone 2 dashes simultaneously, appearing on the opposite side. No coordination, no plan—just pure instinct. Run. Escape. Survive.

  The merged creature's multiple eyes, glowing with dark fire, track both clones as they flee in opposite directions. "Running?" it says, its voice a horrifying mix of Tejran's voice and something else, something ancient and malevolent. "You cannot fight. You cannot escape."

  The creature's eyes narrow, assessing the situation. Two targets, opposite directions. It needs to split its attention. One of its four limbs gestures, dark energy swirling, and from the ground, from the shadows, bugs emerge. Dark, chitinous creatures, crawling through the undergrowth, dozens of them, hundreds. They swarm toward Clone 1's direction, their dark eyes glowing, their forms clicking and skittering.

  The merged creature itself moves, all four limbs propelling it forward with impossible speed, chasing after Clone 2. It moves like a predator, powerful and fluid, each limb striking the ground in perfect coordination.

  ---

  Clone 2 dashes, desperate, trying to escape. It appears 15 meters away, then dashes again—15 meters, 15 meters—putting distance between itself and the creature. But the creature is faster, much faster. It closes the distance in seconds, its massive form moving with terrifying speed, each stride covering ground that would take Clone 2 multiple dashes.

  Clone 2 dashes again, but the creature is already there. One of its four limbs reaches out, dark energy crackling, and Clone 2 tries to dash away—but the energy wraps around it, binding it, holding it in place.

  "No!" Clone 2 struggles, tries to dash free—but there's no energy left. The dark energy tightens, crushing, draining. The creature's limb squeezes, and Clone 2 begins to crack, to break apart. Its energy is being drained, consumed, absorbed into the creature.

  Clone 2 shatters, breaking apart, its energy completely drained, completely consumed. The creature's limb releases the fragments, letting them fall to the ground, lifeless, empty.

  ---

  Clone 1 dashes, desperate, trying to escape. Only a minute has passed since it started fleeing. And then it feels pain. A sensation Tara has not felt for a long time. Not in this world. Pain just like what he felt on his last day on earth. The sensation emerges from its center and engulfs its body and all its faces. It loses control mid-dash and falls to the ground. Clone 2 is gone. There is much to process, but survival instinct takes over. Ignoring every sensation, it starts to dash again, away from the malevolent, menacing creature.

  Dash. Wait. Dash. Wait. Dash. It keeps going on instinct. Only five minutes have passed since Clone 2 was destroyed. But then something moves in the corner of its perception. Bugs. Dark, chitinous creatures, crawling through the undergrowth, moving toward it. Dozens of them. Hundreds.

  "What—" Tara thinks, but there's no time. Another dash. 15 meters away. The bugs are closer now, swarming, surrounding. And then—

  The merged creature is there. Tejran's face visible on its chest, his eyes burning with dark fire. Running beside Clone 1 on all four limbs, matching its speed, keeping pace effortlessly. One of the creature's limbs reaches out, dark energy crackling, and Clone 1 tries to dash away—but the energy wraps around it, binding it, holding it in place.

  Clone 1 struggles, tries to dash free—but there's no energy left. The dark energy tightens, crushing, draining. The bugs swarm closer, their chitinous forms clicking, their dark eyes glowing. They're not attacking—they're just watching, waiting, surrounding.

  "You fought well," the creature says, its voice almost mocking. "But it was never enough. You were never enough. Now, let me show you what despair feels like."

  The creature's grip tightens, pulling Clone 1 closer. Its massive maw opens—a gaping void filled with rows of needle-like teeth. Dark energy crackles around its mouth, and Clone 1 feels itself being drawn in, pulled toward that terrible darkness.

  "No—" Tara thinks, but there's nothing he can do. The creature's jaws close around Clone 1, teeth sinking into its form, crushing, tearing, consuming. Clone 1 feels itself being devoured, its energy being drained, its form being broken down, piece by piece, consumed by the creature's insatiable hunger.

  The creature chews, its massive jaws working, grinding Clone 1 into nothingness. Clone 1's consciousness fades, its form dissolving.

  It is over. A one-sided battle.

  "Victory," the merged creature says. "Nobody can defy me. Nobody! Jahahahaha!"

  The creature lets out a roar—a sound of triumph, of victory.

  ---

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  The transformation begins to fade, and the summon scroll's power begins to dissipate. The creature's form begins to separate, Tejran's human form emerging from the demonic fusion.

  "We will meet again, Tejran. And next time we will have more fun!" The demon's voice fades as it returns to whatever realm it has come from, and Tejran is left standing alone in the forest, exhausted, drained, but alive.

  Tejran sits down under a tree, his fingers twitching erratically. His robes are torn and scorched. His face is pale, sweat beading on his forehead. His hands shake as he runs them through his disheveled hair. The transformation has taken its toll—his body aches, his mind feels fractured, and dark magic courses through him like a poison he cannot purge.

  "I lost control," he mutters, his voice hoarse. "I had to capture the pyramid. But this fusion is too aggressive. I was struggling to control that ancient demon."

  He looks at his trembling hands, then at the scorched ground where the battle took place. His eyes are bloodshot, dark circles forming beneath them. The demon's influence lingers, making his thoughts feel clouded, his movements sluggish.

  He shakes his head, trying to clear his mind. He takes out the last potions from his inventory bag, drinking them one by one. "I didn't bring enough potions," he mutters. "I underestimated the pyramid. Never thought its power could grow to such an extent."

  He pauses, his gaze drifting toward the forest. "There is a rejuvenation spring nearby. I should go there and rest. I can gather some herbs for my concoction while I'm at it. At least something useful will come from this cursed trip."

  As Tejran opens his eyes beside the spring, the sun is low in the sky. He has one last look at the herbs he has collected and places them in his inventory bag.

  He makes his way back through the forest, following the path he's taken earlier. The sun begins to set, casting long shadows through the trees. Hours pass as he travels the lonely path, and night falls. And then, he sees it.

  Fire. Rising from the direction of his hideout.

  Tejran's heart sinks. He quickens his pace, running now, desperate to reach his hideout, to see what has happened.

  As he gets closer, he can see it clearly. Fire. His hideout is on fire. Flames lick at the walls, smoke billowing into the sky. The entrance is blocked, the structure damaged, burning.

  "No," Tejran whispers, his voice hoarse. "No!"

  He raises his hands, dark magic swirling, water magic forming. He summons water from the air, from the ground, dousing the flames, extinguishing the fire. It takes some effort, but eventually the flames die down, leaving only smoke and ash.

  Tejran rushes inside, his heart pounding, his mind racing. What has happened? Who has done this?

  The inside is worse. Much worse.

  The cages are empty. Broken. The creatures that have been inside—all dead. Their bodies lie scattered, lifeless, destroyed. The magical creatures, the beasts, the experiments—all gone, all dead.

  The artifacts are missing. The skulls are shattered. The tables are overturned, the equipment destroyed. Everything is either missing or destroyed. His research, his experiments, his work—all gone.

  Tejran stands there, in the middle of the devastation, his eyes wide, his hands shaking, his fingers twitching erratically. His hideout. His work. His everything. Gone. Destroyed. Ruined.

  He lets out a cry—a sound of pure frustration, pure rage, pure despair. It echoes through the burned-out hideout, through the forest, a cry of someone who has lost everything.

  "Who did this?" Tejran screams, his voice raw. "Who destroyed my work? Who killed my creatures? Who took my artifacts? AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!"

  But there is no answer. Only silence. Only the smell of smoke and ash. Only the devastation.

  Tejran's cry of frustration turns into something else. Something darker. Something more determined.

  "I will find you," Tejran whispers, his voice cold, dangerous. His face contorts into an expression more terrifying than any demon's. "I will find you, and I will make you pay. You will pay for everything. You will pay indeed."

  But for now, he is alone. In a burned-out hideout. With nothing left.

  Nothing but rage. And determination. And a burning desire for revenge.

  ---

  Deep in the forest, far from the burned-out hideout, Tara sits—or rather, exists—in his pyramid form, reflecting on what has just happened.

  "Perfect," Tara thinks, a sense of satisfaction filling him. "The plan worked magnificently. Magnificently indeed!"