He realized he should have demanded more and pressed for answers while the wall was, apparently, willing to talk. Instead, his brain did something annoyingly normal.

  It latched onto the fact that Endigo had waited until Kelix asked for something practical.

  Kelix stared down at the small cloaked figure, brow faintly furrowed, and thought, almost nonchalantly, of course. Of course it answered when it was about technique. Of course it spoke when it could measure the request.

  It was like talking to Finn on a bad day, only smaller and somehow more ominous.

  Kelix kept his tone casual. This was normal. Not like he wasn't standing in a bubble-sky world with a skull-headed knight and a dwindling percentage of something called EX.

  "Use something familiar," he requested.

  Endigo's head tilted.

  "That lightning," Kelix said. "The one I used. If you can. Doom Zap."

  Saying it out loud felt wrong, like calling a spell name should require permission he did not have.

  Endigo did not flinch at the name. It simply regarded him for a long moment, dim eyes steady.

  Kelix felt a chill creep into his thoughts.

  If Endigo could use [Doom Zap], then the skill might not have been his. Or it might not have been only his. It might have belonged to Endigo first, and Kelix had accessed it by proximity.

  That implication sank deeper.

  Soulbound partnerships were not rare back home, but they were regulated, tracked, and treated like something you built with effort. Trained humans could use some of their Soulbound monster's attacks if the bond was strong enough. It was a known phenomenon, the kind instructors talked about with admiration, like it was proof that humans and monsters could become more than separate entities sharing space.

  Kelix had never had a Soulbound partner.

  He had Finn on a leash for a day because rules demanded it. That was not a bond. That was babysitting a weapon that hated him. So why could he use [Doom Zap]? Why had his hand ignited different colors when he hit monsters?

  Stolen story; please report.

  Now he had to guess as to why Endigo even know to ask "with which technique?"

  Kelix's irritation dimmed into something colder. He was still thinking when Endigo lifted one paw.

  Blue-red electricity gathered around it, sharper than the thin arcs from before. This time it did not stay contained. It condensed into a tight, bright point that made the air vibrate.

  Kelix opened his mouth to say wait. The bolt launched, the blue-red lightning slamming into his chest.

  It hit like a sledgehammer made of cold fire. Kelix's lungs emptied in a single violent cough, and his body went backward before his feet could decide whether to brace. He hit the gelatin ground hard enough to bounce once, then sprawled on his face with his arms flung wide.

  For a second, all he could hear was the ringing in his ears and the oceanless rush of blood. He sucked in air, sharp and painful, and forced his eyes open.

  The bubble-sky drifted overhead like it did not care.

  Kelix's heart hammered as he dragged his gaze toward his vision and forced the status screen up with raw intent, because if he did not check now he would start imagining worse.

  It appeared instantly.

  EX = [29%]

  Kelix stared. It had been thirty-two. Now it was twenty-nine.

  Kelix swallowed hard, throat dry. So it really dropped when he took hits. Not metaphorical hits. Actual damage or shock or impact. It tracked harm.

  Kelix rolled onto his side, pushing himself up on one elbow, and glared at Endigo. "Okay. That answers that."

  Endigo stood where it had been, its paw lowering. It watched Kelix without emotion, like the strike had been a demonstration and nothing more.

  Kelix forced his breathing to steady. "What is EX?"

  Endigo's voice came out in a tone that did not match its small size. It was younger, but there was a grim, hollow weight behind it, like someone reciting a funeral rite from memory.

  "Existence," Endigo said.

  The word landed cold, making Kelix's skin prickle. "Existence?"

  Endigo nodded once. "Existence."

  Kelix's stomach tightened into a hard knot. "So if it hits zero…"

  Endigo did not answer the implied end. Instead it spoke again, voice calm, almost clinical despite the chilling weight.

  "You were at one hundred when you arrived in Zeldritzon."

  "One hundred," Kelix repeated. His brain refused to accept it.

  Endigo's hollow eyes stayed fixed on him. "One hundred then halved."

  Kelix's mind flashed to the first time he had seen the screen on the beach. EX had been fifty.

  ZiE had shown him that.

  Kelix's chest tightened. "That means…"

  Endigo's voice did not soften. "Until ZiE shoved you."

  Kelix sat there in the gelatin grass and felt something in him go very still.

  The invisible force. The shove that knocked the wind out of him and sent him into the green ocean. The way his body had felt like it had been hit by the world itself.

  Half his Existence. Gone in one move. ZiE had not just been throwing a tantrum, she had been taking something else as well.

  Kelix stared at the EX number again. Twenty-nine percent. He had lost seventy-one percent of his Existence since arriving.

  He looked at Endigo, and the question in his mind sharpened into something simple and dangerous. "What happens at zero?"

  "You leave," it said. Then, after a pause that felt deliberate, it added in the same grim tone.

  "Or you become something that cannot return."