The world stopped moving.
Or maybe it just felt that way… now that a walking volcano had finally stopped trying to kill us.
I caught myself on a jagged ridge along the cyclops' back — breathing hard, ribs tight, and heart still hammering like we were mid-battle.
There was far too much adrenaline in my veins.
That tends to happen when you go toe-to-toe with a colossal giant made of fire and fury.
I took a long breath to calm myself and glanced around, trying to take in my surroundings.
Charred, stone-like flesh crackled beneath me. Smoke and steam hissed in the air. The cyclops lay lifeless — like a shattered mountain, half-buried in its own crater, its mouth frozen in a final, wordless gasp.
Then, I felt something else.
Something besides relief and exhaustion.
I felt Essence.
A lot of it.
Flooding the atmosphere around me.
'Right. Of course,' I thought. The cyclops was dead — and all its Essence was now leaving its body.
I didn't waste a second. I started absorbing it.
