His Straight Pet
I yell, shadows tearing one, Raymond’s light burning another, our powers blending.
“Like the echo fight!” he says, pale, blood dripping from his nose. “Keep going!”
“We got this!” I say, holding him up, our hybrid powers burning a beast to ash.
We reach the blade’s chamber, a glowing sword on a stone altar, pulsing like a star. The final guardian, a beast, hisses, “You’re not worthy.”
“Ours is eternal,” I snarl, shadows flaring. “Hit it, Raymond!”
His light surges, our powers blending, burning the beast to ash, its scream echoing. “This blade’s ours,” I say, grabbing it, its light merging with ours.
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