Author's note: This is a very short version of what Etrius's arc is supposed to entail. Due to mental illness (executive dysfunction and depression), the full version will likely never get written.
The world seemed to contract as Itreus advanced toward the Winter Palace, a monument to cruelty and decay that loomed like a festering wound against the bleak St. Petersburg skyline. The city had long since succumbed to Ravenna's tyranny, its once-proud streets now buried under tyranny, poverty, corruption, and filth. The air was thick with a bitter cold that gnawed at the bones, but it was the stench of death, of rotting hope, that permeated every breath Itreus took.
Itreus’s new body moved with a silent grace through the desolate streets that led to the fortress. Her digitigrade legs carried her swiftly and silently across the cold ground, leaving only the faintest traces in the snow. The winds howled, mournful and relentless, as if they themselves lamented the state of the world that Ravenna had wrought. Itreus had no illusions about what lay ahead. The path to the Winter Palace was littered with the remnants of those who had dared to defy the grey wolf tyrant. She could feel their spirits clinging to the icy air, whispering tales of anguish and futility.
Julia walked beside her, her presence a quiet reassurance amid the desolation. The two shared a bond forged not through words but through shared suffering. Julia had saved Itreus from the brink of death, not once, but twice. Now, they ventured together into the heart of darkness, knowing that only one of them might emerge.
“Do you think we’ll find it?” Julia’s voice was soft, barely audible over the wind.
“We have to,” Itreus replied, her voice carrying the weight of her resolve. “Ravenna’s strength comes from her cruelty. There must be something that can break her. We just have to find it.”
The Winter Palace came into view, a towering edifice of stone, bones, and metal, its jagged spires piercing the sky like the fangs of some great beast. The walls were lined with rusted cannons and the charred remains of those who had fallen to its defenses. Itreus could see the faint glimmer of light from within, the only sign of life in a place that seemed devoid of it. She steeled herself for what was to come.
The gates of the palace stood before them, a massive, iron barrier that had been forged in blood. Itreus reached out and placed her hand against the cold metal. For a moment, she thought she could feel it pulsing beneath her touch, as if it were alive, as if it were feeding on the fear that permeated the air. She pushed against it, and the gates groaned open, revealing the darkness within.
“This is where it ends,” Itreus said, more to herself than to Julia. The words were a promise, a vow that no matter the cost, she would see Ravenna fall.
They stepped inside, the darkness swallowing them whole. The halls of the palace were eerily silent, the only sound the faint echo of their footsteps. The walls were lined with tapestries depicting scenes of horror and torment, the kind of madness that only Ravenna could conjure. Blood had soaked into the very stone, staining it with the memories of countless atrocities. Itreus’s breath caught in her throat as they passed by a series of cells, each one containing the twisted remains of those who had been left to rot, their bodies contorted in eternal agony.
“Jesus fucking Christ, I didn't know she was this horrible,” Julia whispered, her voice trembling as they descended deeper into the heart of the fortress. The darkness grew thicker, more oppressive, until it felt as though the walls themselves were closing in, suffocating them with the weight of all the lives that had been lost within these halls.
Finally, they reached the throne room, its massive doors standing ajar, as if inviting them to step into the lion’s den. Itreus could feel her pulse quicken, the anticipation of the coming battle coursing through her veins like a drug. This was the moment she had been waiting for, the culmination of all the suffering, all the pain, that had led her here.
“Go,” Itreus said, turning to Julia. “Find whatever you can. I’ll hold her off.”
Julia nodded, her eyes filled with a mixture of fear and determination. She squeezed Itreus’s hand, a brief gesture of comfort before she turned and ran down a side corridor, leaving Itreus to face the monster alone.
With a deep breath, Itreus pushed the doors open and stepped into the throne room. The stench of decay was overwhelming, the walls lined with the decapitated heads of Ravenna’s subjects, their faces twisted in grotesque expressions of terror. And there, seated upon a throne made of bones and sinew, was Ravenna Wildfire.
The grey wolf rose to her full height, staring at Itreus with a malevolent grin. Her fur, once pristine, was now matted with blood, and her eyes glowed with a fiery intensity that sent a shiver down Itreus’s spine. She wore a twisted crown of iron and bone, and in her hand, she held a massive glaive, its blade still wet with the blood of her last victim.
“So, you’ve come to die, little sister,” Ravenna sneered, her voice dripping with venom. “I was wondering when you’d crawl out of whatever hole you were hiding in.”
Itreus said nothing, her grip tightening on the hilt of her plasma sword. This was it—the moment of truth. The time for words was over.
With a snarl, Ravenna lunged forward, her glaive slicing through the air with deadly precision. Itreus barely had time to react, raising her sword to deflect the blow. The impact sent a shockwave through her body, but she stood her ground, refusing to be intimidated by Ravenna’s sheer power. The fight had begun, and there would be no mercy, no quarter given.
This was a final battle to the death, and they both knew that.
The clash of steel echoed through the throne room, a brutal symphony of violence that reverberated off the blood-stained walls. Itreus moved with a lethal grace, her plasma sword humming as it met Ravenna's glaive in a shower of sparks. Each strike was a test of strength, each parry a desperate attempt to stave off the inevitable.
Ravenna fought with the savagery of a wild animal, her movements erratic and unpredictable. Her glowing red eyes never left Itreus, filled with a hatred so deep it seemed to burn through her very soul. The grey wolf was faster, stronger, and relentless, her strikes coming in rapid succession, each one threatening to overpower Itreus.
But Itreus had something Ravenna did not—a purpose. She fought not just to survive, but to end the nightmare that had haunted her for so long. Every time Ravenna's glaive struck, Itreus forced herself to keep going, to keep fighting. Pain was an old friend, one that had accompanied her through every trial, every torment. She would not be defeated by it.
Blood splattered across the floor as Itreus managed to land a hit, her plasma sword slicing through Ravenna's side. The wound was deep, but Ravenna barely flinched, her lips curling into a twisted smile. She seemed to feed off the pain, drawing strength from it as if it were some dark fuel that drove her forward.
“You think you can beat me?” Ravenna snarled, her voice dripping with mockery. “You’re nothing, Itreus. Just a pathetic little girl playing at being a warrior.”
Itreus didn't respond. She had no interest in trading insults, no desire to engage in the sick game that Ravenna so clearly enjoyed. Her focus was singular, her determination unyielding. She would bring Ravenna down, no matter the cost.
Ravenna’s next strike was a feint, her glaive swinging low before she pivoted and brought it up in a vicious arc. Itreus barely had time to block, the force of the blow sending her crashing into one of the twisted columns that lined the room. The impact knocked the breath from her lungs, and she gasped, struggling to regain her footing as Ravenna advanced, her eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure.
“You were always weak,” Ravenna hissed, her voice a low growl. “Always too soft, too pathetic to survive in this world. You should have died a long time ago, but instead, you come crawling back to me once more, like a dog begging for scraps.”
Itreus wiped the blood from her mouth, her eyes narrowing as she met Ravenna’s gaze. “I came here to end you.”
With a roar, Itreus launched herself at Ravenna, her sword flashing in the dim light. The two clashed again, their weapons a blur of motion as they traded blows. Itreus could feel her strength waning, the wounds she had sustained slowing her down, but she refused to give in. She couldn’t afford to.
As they fought, Julia moved silently through the corridors of the palace, her heart pounding in her chest. She knew she had to find something, anything, that could help Itreus. The castle was a labyrinth of horror, each room more grotesque than the last, but she pressed on, driven by the knowledge that Itreus was counting on her.
Finally, she found it—a small chamber tucked away in the depths of the palace, hidden behind a false wall that had almost been swallowed by the darkness. The chamber was filled with Ravenna's most personal belongings: blood-stained trophies, twisted relics, and journals piled haphazardly on a table. Julia’s hands trembled as she sifted through the mess, her eyes darting from one horrifying item to the next.
The journals were bound in what looked like human skin, the pages yellowed and brittle. They reeked of decay, and as she opened the first one, Julia felt a wave of nausea wash over her. The handwriting was erratic, the letters scrawled in a frenzied script that made them difficult to read. But she forced herself to continue, flipping through page after page of Ravenna’s madness.
The entries detailed her descent into psychopathy, each page more disturbing than the last. They spoke of the joy she took in causing pain, in watching others suffer, and the pleasure she derived from Itreus’s torment in particular. Ravenna’s obsession with Itreus was laid bare, her hatred fueled by a twisted love that bordered on insanity.
Julia’s heart raced as she skimmed through the pages, the words blurring together in her haste. Then, she found it—a passage that sent a chill down her spine.
“I hate him because he defies me, because he refuses to break. But I can’t help it. I love watching him suffer, seeing him struggle against the inevitable. But I wouldn’t do it if he were a girl. If he were a she, maybe I could have loved him... maybe I wouldn’t have needed to hurt him. Maybe...”
The revelation hit Julia like a punch to the gut. It wasn’t a weakness she had found, but something far more twisted. Ravenna’s sadism was intertwined with a sick, perverted longing, a desire to dominate and control that had been twisted into something monstrous.
Julia knew she had to get back to the throne room, to warn Itreus. But as she turned to leave, a sense of dread settled over her. Would this knowledge help? Or would it only fuel Ravenna’s madness further?
Back in the throne room, the battle raged on. Itreus and Ravenna were locked in a brutal struggle, their bodies battered and bleeding, but neither willing to give an inch. The room was a mess of destruction, the floor shattered stone and the remains of Ravenna's victims.
Itreus’s breath came in sharply, her vision blurred by the blood running down her face.
Ravenna was relentless, her attacks growing more vicious with each passing moment. It was clear she was playing with Itreus, enjoying the slow, torturous dance of death.
“You’re getting tired, Itreus,” Ravenna taunted, her voice a low purr. “Just give up. Let me end this for you. You’ve suffered enough.”
But Itreus didn’t respond. She knew better than to engage with Ravenna’s mind games. Instead, she focused on her breathing, on keeping her movements fluid despite the agony that wracked her body.
The sound of running footsteps echoed through the throne room, and both combatants turned to see Julia burst through the doors, her face pale and eyes wide with horror. She clutched the journal to her chest as she raced toward Itreus, her voice trembling as she called out.
“Itreus! I found something you need to know!”
Ravenna’s eyes narrowed as she saw the journal in Julia’s hands, a flicker of something dark and dangerous crossing her features. She lunged toward Julia with a snarl, but Itreus moved faster, intercepting her with a ferocity born of desperation. The two clashed again, their weapons locking together as they grappled for control.
“Julia, stay back!” Itreus shouted, her voice strained as she struggled to hold Ravenna at bay.
Julia skidded to a halt, the journal still clutched tightly in her hands. “Itreus, she...she’s obsessed with you, but... if you were born a woman... she wouldn’t have done this. She wouldn’t have needed to!”
Ravenna let out a guttural laugh, the sound filled with venom and malice, but a slight tinge of worry and desperation. “Is that what you think?” she hissed, her voice dripping with contempt. “You think I would have spared her? You think I would have loved her? Foolish girl. I don’t love. I destroy.”
Itreus felt a cold fury settle over her, her muscles tightening as the weight of Julia’s words sank in. This was no longer a battle of strength or skill. This was a battle for her very soul.
With a roar, Itreus pushed Ravenna back, her plasma sword glowing intensely. She struck out with everything she had, her movements a blur as she unleashed a flurry of attacks that drove Ravenna to the defensive. The grey wolf snarled in frustration, her attempts to counter Itreus’s assault growing more desperate by the second.
But Itreus was relentless, her strikes fueled by a determination that bordered on madness. She could feel Ravenna’s resolve wavering, the cracks in her facade beginning to show. And then, in one final, desperate move, Itreus disarmed her, catching the glaive by its haft and yanking it out of Ravenna's grip.
Ravenna staggered back, her eyes wide with shock as she realized she had lost. For a moment, the throne room was silent, the only sound the ragged breathing of the two combatants. Then, with a snarl of pure hatred, Ravenna lunged at Itreus, her claws outstretched in a final, futile attempt to take her down.
But Itreus was ready. She sidestepped Ravenna’s attack, and in one swift motion, drove the glaive through Ravenna’s chest, the blade slicing through flesh and bone with a sickening hiss.
Ravenna gasped, her eyes wide with shock and pain as she looked down at the glaive that had impaled her. She tried to speak, but no words came, only a choked gurgle as blood poured from her mouth.
“It’s over,” Itreus whispered, her voice trembling with exhaustion. “You’ve lost.”
Ravenna’s eyes flickered, the fire within them dimming as the life drained from her body. For a moment, she seemed almost human, her expression softening as she looked up at Itreus.
"I'm sorry...I should have loved you...Instead of..." Ravenna never got to finish. With one final, shuddering breath, she slumped forward, her body going limp as she crumpled to the floor.
Itreus stood over her, her chest heaving as she stared down at Ravenna’s lifeless body. It was over. The nightmare was finally over.
But the victory felt hollow, the weight of all that had been lost pressing down on her like a suffocating shroud. She had won, but at what cost? The world was still broken, still twisted and corrupt, and no amount of bloodshed could ever change that.
Julia approached cautiously, her eyes wide with a mixture of relief and horror as she looked down at Ravenna’s corpse. “Itreus... you did it,” she whispered, her voice trembling.
But Itreus didn’t respond. She could feel the walls of the palace closing in around her, the darkness that had seeped into every corner of this place threatening to consume her. The room seemed to tilt, the ground beneath her feet unstable as if the very foundations of the palace were crumbling.
And then, with a deafening roar, the castle began to explode.
The walls of the Winter Palace shook, ancient stone groaning under the strain of years of neglect and the recent battle. Dust and debris rained down from above as the very structure of the castle began to give way, the weight of its own sins finally proving too much to bear.
“We need to get out of here!” Julia shouted, her voice barely audible over the cacophony of destruction. She grabbed Itreus’s arm, trying to pull her toward the exit, but Itreus hesitated, her gaze locked on Ravenna’s lifeless body.
For a brief moment, time seemed to stand still. The world outside the crumbling walls was nothing but a distant memory, the future uncertain and bleak. All that existed was this moment, this final, irreversible act that had sealed both their fates.
But then the floor beneath them buckled, and the spell was broken. Itreus tore her gaze away from Ravenna, her survival instincts kicking in as she followed Julia toward the exit. The ground shook violently, the walls collapsing in on themselves as the castle began to implode.
They raced through the crumbling corridors, the path they had taken to reach the throne room now blocked by debris and falling rubble. The air was thick with dust, choking and blinding them as they struggled to find a way out.
Itreus’s legs burned with exertion, every step a battle against the fatigue that threatened to drag her down. Her injuries screamed for attention, but she pushed the pain aside, focusing only on the task at hand—escape.
But then, just as they neared what appeared to be a way out, the ground beneath Julia gave way. With a scream, she plummeted into the darkness below, her hand slipping from Itreus’s grasp as she disappeared into the abyss.
“Julia!” Itreus cried out, her voice echoing through the collapsing structure. She skidded to a halt, her heart pounding in her chest as she peered into the darkness where Julia had fallen. The chasm below was a yawning maw, its depths obscured by the dust and debris that filled the air. Panic gripped Itreus as she frantically searched for any sign of her friend, but the rubble continued to fall, threatening to bury them both if she hesitated any longer.
But she couldn't leave Julia behind. Not after everything they had been through.
Ignoring the searing pain in her body, Itreus dropped to her knees and reached into the void, her hand grasping at empty air. "Julia!" she shouted, her voice hoarse and desperate.
There was a moment of silence, followed by a faint, pained cry from below. It was weak, barely audible over the din of the collapsing castle, but it was enough to spur Itreus into action. She lowered herself into the chasm, her claws digging into the crumbling stone as she carefully descended into the darkness.
The descent was treacherous, every movement sending loose rocks tumbling into the abyss. The walls were slick with moisture and dust, making it difficult to find purchase. But Itreus pressed on, her determination unwavering as she made her way toward the faint sounds of Julia's breathing.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she found her. Julia lay crumpled on a narrow ledge, her body twisted at an unnatural angle. Blood pooled beneath her, staining the stone a deep crimson. Her face was pale, her eyes half-closed as she struggled to stay conscious.
Itreus's heart clenched at the sight. "Julia, I'm here," she whispered, her voice filled with a rare tenderness as she gently cradled Julia's broken body. "We're getting out of here. I won't leave you behind."
But even as she spoke, she knew the truth. Julia's injuries were too severe, her body too broken to survive the escape. The realization hit Itreus like a sledgehammer, the weight of it nearly crushing her resolve.
Tears welled up in Julia's eyes as she looked up at Itreus, her lips trembling as she tried to speak. "I... I'm sorry," she gasped, her voice barely a whisper. "I couldn't..."
Itreus shook her head, her expression fierce. "No. You were brave, Julia. You came with me when you didn't have to. You fought alongside me, and you found the truth about Ravenna. That's more than I could have ever asked for."
Julia's hand reached up, weakly grasping Itreus's arm. "Itreus... don't... don't give up. You have to... you have to keep going... for both of us."
Itreus's throat tightened as she nodded, tears blurring her vision. She could feel the castle shuddering around them, the walls closing in as the final moments of the Winter Palace approached. She had to make a choice—stay with Julia and perish with her, or leave her behind and escape the destruction.
Julia seemed to sense her hesitation, a small, sad smile touching her lips. "Go... Itreus. Save yourself. Live... for me."
Itreus knew what had to be done. She leaned down, pressing her forehead against Julia's in a gesture of farewell. "I'll never forget you, Julia. Thank you... for everything."
With that, she gently placed Julia on the ledge and forced herself to turn away, her heart breaking with each step she took toward the surface. The climb back up was agonizing, every muscle in her body screaming in protest, but she pushed through the pain, driven by the memory of Julia's final words.
The castle continued to collapse around her, the walls crumbling and the ceiling caving in as she made her way back toward the light. Itreus's breath came in shallow gasps, her vision narrowing as the exhaustion threatened to overtake her. But she couldn't stop, not now, not when she was so close.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she broke through the surface, emerging into the cold night air. The ground beneath her was unstable, the earth trembling as the castle finally succumbed to its fate. She stumbled away from the collapsing structure, her legs barely holding her up as she put as much distance between herself and the ruins as possible.
And then, with one final, deafening roar, the Winter Palace collapsed in on itself, the ancient stone structure reduced to nothing more than a pile of rubble and dust. The force of the explosion sent a shockwave through the air, knocking Itreus off her feet and sending her crashing to the ground.
She lay there for a moment, dazed and disoriented, her body aching from everything. The night was eerily silent, the only sound the distant rumble of the castle's destruction.
It was over. Ravenna was dead, the castle destroyed. But the cost had been unimaginable.
Itreus sat there in the cold, staring at the ruins of the Winter Palace. The emptiness in her heart was overwhelming, the weight of everything she had lost threatening to crush her. She had won, but it didn't feel like a victory. It felt like the end of everything she had ever known.
As the first light of dawn broke over the horizon, Itreus finally collapses, her body giving in to the exhaustion and pain. She closed her eyes, letting the darkness take her as she succumbed to unconsciousness.
The world faded away, leaving her with nothing but the memories of what had been lost.
When Itreus finally awoke, she was in a place that was cold, sterile, and smelled faintly of antiseptic. The bright, artificial light above her stung her eyes, and for a moment, she couldn't remember where she was or how she had gotten there. Then the memories came flooding back—the battle with Ravenna, the collapse of the castle, Julia's final moments.
Pain lanced through her side as she tried to sit up, and she realized she was lying on a metal examination table, her body bandaged and strapped down. Her limbs felt heavy, her movements sluggish as if she had been drugged.
She turned her head to the side and saw the familiar figure of Petrovich standing beside the table, his expression unreadable as he monitored her vital signs. The old scientist's face was lined with age, his once-vibrant eyes now dulled by years of hardship and loss.
"Itreus," Petrovich said, his voice a low rasp. "You're awake. Good."
Itreus blinked, her mind still foggy from the drugs. "Where...?" she asked, her voice weak and hoarse.
"You're in my lab," Petrovich replied. "I found you outside the ruins of the Winter Palace. You were barely alive—shrapnel, broken bones, internal bleeding. It was a miracle you survived at all. I've been working on you non-stop since I brought you back here."
The realization of what had happened hit Itreus like a hammer. The Winter Palace was gone. Julia was gone. She had survived.
"Ravenna...?" Itreus croaked, her throat dry and parched.
Petrovich nodded. "Dead."
But there was no satisfaction in his voice, no sense of victory. Itreus could see the weariness in his eyes, the toll that this endless war had taken on him. She knew he had lost just as much as she had, if not more.
Itreus tried to speak, but the words caught in her throat. She could feel the tears welling up in her eyes, but she fought them back, refusing to let them fall. She had to be strong. She had to keep going, even when everything seemed hopeless.
But as she lay there in Petrovich's lab, surrounded by the cold, sterile walls and the hum of medical equipment, she couldn't shake the feeling that she had lost more than she had gained. The world outside was still dark, still broken, and no amount of sacrifice could ever change that.
The fight was over, but the battle was far from won. And as Itreus closed her eyes, the darkness closing in around her once more, she knew that this was only the beginning.
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