Liam Reed staggered to his feet, the Spear of Lug glowing like a branding iron fused to his right arm. The black scales creeping up his neck pulsed with a sickly light, mirroring the corruption spreading through the World Tree's roots beneath the Well of Shadows. He could feel the serpent god's consciousness coiled in his mind, a constant whisper: "You are mine now, bridge."
Aisling O'Connor raised her staff, its Druidic runes flickering weakly. "Liam… what did you do down there?" Her voice trembled as she stared at the grotesque markings on his skin.
Before he could answer, the ocean erupted. A sleek black ship emerged from the mist, its sails emblazoned with both Celtic spirals and Norse runes. At the helm stood a woman with silver hair and eyes like storm clouds—Liam's mother, Elara Reed, thought dead for over a decade. In her hand, she clutched a vial of inky liquid labeled Níðhöggr's Heart.
"Mother?" Liam's voice cracked. Memories flooded him: a childhood spent on this very cliff, her lullabies mixing with the roar of the Atlantic, the night she vanished during a ritual gone wrong.
Elara's gaze locked onto the Spear. "You've become the serpent's vessel. How… disappointing." She tossed the vial into the air; it shattered mid-air, releasing a plume of black smoke that coalesced into a massive, winged serpent—a dragon born from the Well's corruption.
"Finn!" Aisling shouted. "The dragon—"
But Finn Thorsen was already transforming. His bones cracked, scales erupting across his body as Níðhöggr's influence surged. "I'll hold it off!" he roared, leaping into the air to meet the creature. Their collision shook the cliffs, sending boulders crashing into the sea.
Old Sean Reed emptied his shotgun at the ship, but the bullets dissolved into mist. "This isn't real magic—it's technology!" he growled, recognizing the faint hum of machinery beneath the ship's illusion. He pulled a battered file from his coat: Project Yggdrasil, 1972.
Cian Byrne, the traitorous Druid, emerged from the ship's shadows. "The stag god demands balance, Liam. You've sided with the serpent, but I'll—"
He never finished. Aisling's vines erupted from the ground, wrapping around his throat. "Betrayer!" she hissed. "You led us here to die."
Cian smirked, blood trickling from his lips. "The stag's resurrection requires a sacrifice… of the bridge." His hand shot out, pressing a rune-etched dagger into Aisling's chest. She gasped, her magic flickering as the blade drained her life force.
Liam's vision reddened. The Spear of Lug flared, its lightning crackling with a new, darker power. "NO!" he screamed, charging toward Cian. But Elara intercepted him, her own staff glowing with stolen Druidic magic.
"You think you're the only one who made a bargain?" she snarled. "The serpent god gave me immortality… but I'll take your power to break the pact." She struck him with a blast of dark energy, sending him sprawling into the ruins of an ancient Druid circle.
Deep within the Well, the World Tree's roots were dying. Liam could feel it—a rot spreading from Cernunnos' prison, accelerated by Elara's interference. The stag god's voice echoed in his mind: *"Choose, bridge. Merge with me, and I'll purge the serpent's filth… or watch the world burn."*
Finn's roar cut through the chaos. The dragon he fought was regenerating faster than he could damage it. "Liam!" he shouted. "The vial—Níðhöggr's heart! It's a key to the Well's core."
Liam staggered to the shattered glass, the liquid seeping into his scales. Images flooded his mind: his mother's betrayal, Project Yggdrasil's experiments to weaponize the World Tree, and the truth behind his birth—he was never meant to be a bridge, but a lock to contain both gods.
"ENOUGH!" he roared, channeling the serpent's power into the Spear. Lightning surged from his arm, splitting the ground beneath Elara's ship. The illusion shattered, revealing a rusted Cold War submarine bristling with arcane weaponry.
Cian seized the moment. He pressed the dagger deeper into Aisling's chest, chanting a ritual to drain her soul. "The stag's avatar requires a Druid's sacrifice… and yours will—"
A gunshot echoed. Cian's head snapped back, a bullet hole between his eyes. Old Sean stood behind him, smoking revolver in hand. "Never liked traitors."
Liam turned to his mother. "Why?"
Elara smiled bitterly. "The world needs order, not chaos. The serpent and stag must be bound… and you're the only one strong enough to do it." She hurled a vial of green liquid at him—it exploded on impact, dissolving the scales from his arm.
The Spear of Lug clattered to the ground. Liam collapsed, gasping as the serpent god's influence retreated. Above him, Finn fell from the sky, his dragon form fading. The creature he'd fought dissolved into smoke, leaving only a single scale behind.
"Take it," Elara said, pressing the scale into his hand. "The serpent's essence can still save the World Tree… but you'll have to become the lock."
Liam stared at the scale, then at the dying roots beneath the Well. He think of the serpent god's words: *"Balance requires both… or neither."*
"I choose neither."
He plunged the scale into his chest. Light erupted—gold for the stag, silver for the serpent, and a third color, unknown and ancient, binding them together. The World Tree shuddered, its roots healing as the two gods were sealed within Liam's soul.
Elara laughed softly. "Fool. You've doomed yourself to an eternity of suffering."
"Maybe." Liam stood, the Spear of Lug now inert in his hand. "But at least the world gets to live."