Tyler Levison drifted in the midnight air, but the predatory grace of his transformation was gone. His spectral visage was a battleground; jagged black veins pulsed across his skin like ink dropped in water.
The possession had begun.
"Is he... is he taking over?" Ben stammered, his heart hammering against his ribs. "Can one ghost really hijack another? Tyler! Fight him!"
Inside the abyss of Tyler's mind, the world was a void of grey static. Two manifestations of pure willpower stood locked in a stalemate. Tyler's mental avatar—a sharp, focused version of himself—stood behind a wall of shimmering translucent energy. Opposite him stood Zs'Skayr, his ethereal form twisted into a drill of obsidian malice.
"The boy's mind is a fortress," Zs'Skayr hissed, his voice echoing through the mental hallways. "I expected a playground, not a bunker."
He lunged, his form spinning with a high-pitched psychic whine, slamming into Tyler's mental barricades. Tyler gritted his teeth, pouring every ounce of his discipline into the defense.
"I can hold him," Tyler muttered to the void, his brow furrowed in concentration. "But this is a drain. If I stay on the defensive, he'll just starve my stamina until I flicker out. I need a counter."
Zs'Skayr slowed his assault, his form flickering with a sickly purple light. "You've made me suffer, brat. I've spent months rot in that watch because of your 'corrections.' Once I slip into the driver's seat, I won't just kill you. I'll use your hands to tear down everything you love."
"You have to get past the door first," Tyler snarled, hardening his resolve.
The battle turned into a grueling war of attrition. Tyler built walls; Zs'Skayr tore them down. The mental strain began to take its toll, Tyler's avatar growing faint and translucent. Zs'Skayr's eyes widened in realization. The boy wasn't retreating into fear; he was leaning into his spite.
Outside, Ben watched the black cracks on Tyler's face grow like a spreading virus. He couldn't just stand there and watch his best friend's soul get erased.
"Fine," Ben whispered, his voice trembling. "If it's a ghost fight, then I'm jumping in!"
Ben lunged forward, his spectral form as the Void-Wraith colliding with Tyler's body. Instead of a physical impact, he felt himself pulled into a cold, swirling vortex.
In the mental space, a third figure materialized.
"Tyler? Where am I?" Ben shouted, looking around at the crumbling grey landscape.
"My head, Ben! Get over here and help me hold the line!" Tyler called out, his voice strained.
"Zs'Skayr!" Ben roared, his fear turning into a protective rage.
In the realm of the mind, combat was governed by the laws of imagination. Ben didn't think in terms of strategy; he thought in terms of what he loved. His mental avatar shifted, his limbs thickening and his chest swelling until he resembled a towering, stylized warrior from his favorite franchise.
"Sumo Slammer Ben is on the job!" He charged, a massive, idealized wrestler slamming into the obsidian drill of Zs'Skayr's malice.
The collision sent a shockwave through Tyler's consciousness. For a moment, the pressure eased.
"There's a chance!" Tyler didn't hesitate. He manifested his own will into a massive weight, slamming it down on the distracted shadow. Zs'Skayr shrieked, darting away with predatory agility.
"Don't let him catch his breath!" Ben shouted, ready to lunge again.
But Zs'Skayr was done playing fair. He began to drift at the edges of Tyler's perception, moving with a flickering speed that the boys couldn't track. He wasn't attacking; he was circling.
"Tyler, he's... he's just waiting, isn't he?" Ben asked, his Sumo avatar beginning to lose its definition.
Tyler nodded grimly. "He knows our time is limited. He's running out the clock. If he can stay out of reach until our transformations time out, he wins by default."
Zs'Skayr's laughter rang out from the shadows, cold and arrogant. "The logic of two minds is powerful, but it's slow. I won't give you a moment to coordinate. I will starve you both in the dark."
The obsidian drill struck again, a lightning-fast hit-and-run that knocked Ben backward. Every time Tyler tried to speak, Zs'Skayr launched a fresh assault, keeping them pinned and reactive.
Tyler went silent. He looked at Ben, then at the predatory shadow circling them. A desperate, dangerous plan formed in his mind.
"Sorry, Ben," Tyler whispered.
Before Ben could react, Tyler's mental presence surged. He didn't strike at Zs'Skayr; he slammed a wave of mental force into Ben.
"Tyler?! What are you—"
BOOM!
Ben was ejected from the mental space, his consciousness reeling as he was shoved back into his physical body. He tumbled across the dirt of the outskirts, gasping for air.
He looked up to see Tyler's body vibrating, the black patterns now covering his entire neck and chin. The Slaughter Wraith looked like a puppet with its strings being cut.
"He kicked me out..." Ben whispered, his hands shaking. "Does he think it's over? Did he give up?"
Panic seized him. He looked at Tyler's struggling form and saw only one terrifying solution. If Tyler was being possessed, then the only way to stop Zs'Skayr was to stop the host.
Ben's hands moved toward Tyler's throat, his eyes blurring with tears. "Tyler... I'm so sorry. I won't let him use you."
WHAM!
A massive stone hand slammed into Ben, knocking him away from Tyler.
Gwen Tennyson stood in the moonlight, her magical robes billowing in the night wind. In her hands, the dual staves she had liberated from Hex's stash hummed with a terrifying violet light. Her own summoned Golem stood between the two boys, its rocky eyes glowing with power.
"Ben, stop!" Gwen screamed, her gaze fixed on him with fierce intensity. "What do you think you're doing? He's still in there!"
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