Thought dissolved. Instinct, raw and overwhelming, ignited within Bolt. The sight of the colossal, jagged crystal plummeting towards Eva was a spark in a tinderbox, the Ahna'sara flaring not with gentle warmth, but with the incandescent fury of a cornered wolf defending its pack.
A sound tore from him, less a bark and more an earth-shattering roar that ripped through the cavern's alien stillness. He launched himself forward. His new humanoid limbs, still alien to his conscious mind, moved with a speed and precision born purely of that ancient, protective instinct. Two immense, ground-eating strides, a silver-grey blur of fur and desperate power, and he was there.
No time to think. Only to act.
He reached Eva just as the shadow of the falling shard engulfed her. He didn't try to catch it – an impossible feat.
Instead, his new instincts screamed a different solution. He slammed his shoulder into Eva, a controlled, powerful impact.
"Oof!" A yelp of surprise and pain tore from her as she tumbled sideways, sprawling across the soft moss.
Simultaneously, Bolt pivoted, his newly clawed hands, now like Progenitor-forged steel, shooting upwards. Not to stop the shard, but to meet it, to deflect.
The impact was a cataclysm. His claws screeched against the crystalline surface, a sound that set his teeth on edge.
A shockwave jarred him from head to toe, the sheer kinetic force threatening to buckle his new legs. But he held. With another guttural roar, a primal assertion of will, he twisted, using his newfound height and leverage.
The massive shard, its trajectory fatally altered by a hair's breadth, slammed into the cavern floor where Eva had stood an instant before. It struck with the force of a meteor, shattering into a thousand razor-sharp fragments. The sound echoed like a cannonade, momentarily deafening.
Dust and glowing crystal splinters filled the air. Bolt staggered, his ears ringing, his new body screaming with the sudden, violent strain. He whirled, his immediate, overriding concern solely for Eva.
She was pushing herself up, wincing, her hand clutching her left arm. A dark stain was blooming on her sleeve just below the shoulder. Her face, pale in the dim light, was etched with pain and the lingering terror of her near-miss.
"Bolt…?" she gasped, her eyes wide as they took in his towering, transformed state, truly seeing him for the first time amidst the aftermath of the chaos.
A softer sound, a rumbling whine of distress, vibrated deep in Bolt's chest. He moved towards her, his immense form casting a protective shadow. He wanted to nudge her, to offer comfort as he would have before, but the awareness of his new size, his formidable claws, made him hesitate.
He knelt awkwardly, his husky head now level with her shoulder, peering at her injured arm with an intensity that was all Bolt, despite the fearsome new visage.
"You're… bleeding," he managed. His voice was a rough, gravelly echo of his own, but the raw concern was unmistakable.
As his attention fixed on Eva, the cold, probing presence of the distant watcher, which had momentarily receded during the immediate crisis, tried to clamp down again. Its icy tendrils sought to exploit their vulnerability. The obsidian archway pulsed, its silent, dark invitation feeling more malevolent than ever.
Something new, something potent, surged within Bolt. The Ahna'sara, having tasted raw, protective fury, now responded to this renewed external pressure with a different kind of power.
It wasn't a conscious act, but a deep, resonant wave that built from the core of his being, a force as old as the stars.
His fur seemed to shimmer, not just with reflected light, but with an internal, silvery luminescence. He threw his transformed head back and let out a howl.
It was not a sound of pain or rage this time, but a long, ululating call that was both deeply canine and utterly alien, a sound filled with ancient sorrow, fierce protectiveness, and an undeniable assertion of presence. The howl resonated through the cavern, not as sound alone, but as a tangible wave of energy. The very air shimmered around them.
The menacing pulse from the archway faltered. Its dark allure dimmed as if rebuffed by a stronger, purer force.
More astonishingly, the cold, probing gaze of the watcher shattered. Not physically, but its mental connection fractured, recoiling with what Bolt felt as a jolt of pure, alien surprise.
Then, it vanished completely, like a predator retreating from an unexpected, potent defense.
The cavern fell into a sudden, profound silence. The only sounds were Eva's ragged breathing and Bolt's own heavy panting as the silver luminescence around him gradually subsided. The immediate, psychic threat was gone.
The oppressive atmosphere lifted, leaving behind a tense, echoing stillness.
"What… what was that?" Eva whispered. She was staring at Bolt, her gaze a complex mixture of awe, lingering fear, and a dawning wonder. "That howl… it felt like… like the whole cavern listened."
Bolt slowly lowered his head, the power of the howl leaving him feeling drained, yet strangely… whole.
"I… I don't know," he rumbled, looking down at his clawed hands. They felt both alien and intrinsically his.
"The Ahna'sara… it just… pushed back." He immediately focused on Eva again. "Your arm. Let me see."
His touch, when he gently reached for her, was surprisingly careful. His massive, claw-tipped fingers, which had just deflected a crystalline meteor, were unexpectedly deft as he examined the gash. It was a deep cut, bleeding freely, and he suspected her shoulder was sprained from the force of his push and her subsequent fall.
"It's… it's okay," Eva said, though her voice still trembled.
She leaned against a smooth rock, her gaze fixed on his transformed face, on the intelligent, familiar eyes that were still, undeniably, Bolt. "You saved me. That thing… it would have crushed me.
" She hesitated. "Is this… is this the 'unlocking' the Keepers talked about?"
"I think so," Bolt said.
A wave of dizziness washed over him as the adrenaline began to ebb, leaving the unfamiliar weight and strain of his new body more apparent. He felt immensely powerful, yet also vulnerable in his lack of understanding.
"It feels… big. But strange. I'm still… me. I think."
He helped her to sit more comfortably, then, with a moment of awkwardness, tore a strip from the strange, durable fabric of his own newly formed clothing – which seemed to have shifted and reformed with his body – to create a makeshift bandage for her arm. The Waystone lay nearby, its light now a steady, calm green once more.
They both looked towards the obsidian archway. It stood there, silent and enigmatic, but its oppressive, beckoning aura had lessened significantly since Bolt's resonant howl.
The path to Aethelgard, it seemed, was still open, though no less mysterious.
As Bolt finished tending to Eva's arm as best he could, a new sensation, faint but crystal clear, tickled at the edge of his awareness. It was entirely different from the watcher's cold probe, different even from the vital thrum of the cavern itself. This was distant, yet incredibly pure – a warm, melodic call, like the faintest, most beautiful strains of an ancient song carried on ethereal winds. It felt… inviting.
Welcoming. Hopeful.
A shiver, not of fear this time, traced its way down his spine.
Perhaps that was Aethelgard, its true guardians finally making their presence known, cutting through the residual chill of their recent peril.