Wild's POV

After taking turns sleeping for a few hours, we get up and keep moving. I make kabobs, so we can eat while walking. Silence cloaks us today. Wind and Four stick close to me, leaning into my unnatural heat. The crystal hangs from my neck, dangling in the open on top of my Champion's tunic, and I try to ignore it. I can feel its influence, now that Hyrule explained how it works. Energy seeps into my body, but I can't really sense a mark forming. I run my hands across my chest under my tunic, but don't encounter any kind of raised skin. Twilight's feels like a burn, so I know that I could detect it through touch, but I find nothing except my usual skin and scar tissue. Maybe it's forming somewhere else, and the process truly is painless for me. For now, I don't worry about it.

We push onwards. Walk through endless winding hallways. Fight countless monsters. The battles aren't hard. With this limited space, they can't fan out and surround us. We fight in a line, pushing our way forward, never hesitating to take another step when we can afford to. It's exhausting. I don't know how all the others did all this dungeon-crawling all the time. Much less by themselves or with one companion.

I make lunch eventually. Then we keep walking. Not a word passes our lips. We're all too focused. Too worried. Whenever we reach splits in our path, we pick the one that leads down. He'll be in the dungeon, Legend had insisted earlier. Dungeons are always down. So, we keep walking down. We find walls and ceilings and floors of Malice. We never make Sky deal with it again. I keep the crystal to myself. Wind thinks to employ his boomerang. It's got just enough metal on it that if he misses I can use Magnesis to drag it back to him to try again. So that becomes our strategy. I wish we'd thought of it sooner.

And besides forcing ourselves to keep moving, I think we all just worry. It's been too long. We've taken too long. Surely the Black Lizalfos wouldn't wait to infect Twilight. What reason would it have? It knows that we're coming. It invited us into its stronghold. What kind of trap is it setting? We haven't sprung it yet. I just know we haven't. I guess we'll just keep walking until we do.

Has the Malice killed Twilight yet? Has it controlled him? My hands shake constantly now. Four tells me to calm myself. I simply can't. Sky says to no one in particular that it'll be alright. We get tired of silence. Wind talks and talks about nothing at all when we're not fighting. When we are, Legend and Warriors take to swearing at our adversaries. We're all worrying. What's going to happen to Twilight?

We don't know. So we just keep walking. The dark walls seem to suck out light now. For a time, a combination of Malice and lit torches provided satisfactory visibility. But now, darkness pervades every room. Legend lights a lantern. I unhook the Sheikah Slate from my belt and hold out the bright screen.

"Now we're in it," Legend mutters.

"We must be getting close," Four breathes.

"Close to something," Warriors agrees.

"Probably something bad," Wind whispers.

"We can handle it," Sky says firmly, the Master Sword glowing white in the presence of this thick evil. Twilight's crystal glows too, the orange lines providing limited light, and the flowing energy within it appearing even more noticeable.

Still, we keep walking. We don't know how big the room we're in is. We opened a door a few minutes ago, and Legend's torch no longer illuminates close black walls. The room must be big. I thought I was longing for a less claustrophobic room, but all this empty space that I can't see makes my hair stand on edge. All this area that we don't know what occupies it. Not Malice, for that stuff glows, but monsters or traps or spikes or who knows what else. We can see each other, barely, and that's it. We start to walk slower. Something's not right. This sudden big room just isn't right.

A loud scratching noise from behind us interrupts our walking. We all freeze, swords flying from their sheaths, our backs pressed together in an instantaneous circle. But nothing approaches.

"The door," Time says. "They probably locked the door."

"Meaning…we're trapped?" I whisper.

"Boss fight time, then," Wind mumbles. "That's what that always means."

"He's right," Four agrees. "Giant, dark circular room. We've been walking down for ages. And the door is locked behind us."

We keep our swords drawn, waiting for this supposed boss to come at us. Nothing comes.

"A-are you sure that's how it works?" I question after several long moments.

"...It usually is," Sky says with uncertainty.

"Perhaps we're expecting normality a bit too much," Warriors suggests. "Let's keep moving."

"This is the Black Lizalfos's hideout," Hyrule agrees. "It probably knows what we expect."

We all nod. Then we keep walking. Time's eye narrows as we keep walking across the room. Legend's lantern shines onto another door now. I guess there just was nothing in this room. How bizarre. I suppose it certainly unnerved us.

"Wait," Time says, staring at the door.

We pause.

Without another word, he reaches a hand towards the door handle. An iron grid of bars smashes over the door and it's handle. Time rapidly withdraws his hand, pulling his fingers into a fist. "I knew it."

"What is it?" I demand.

"We're still in for a fight," he mutters. "Be ready for anything." He turns around, his sword clutched in both hands, and walks slowly back towards the middle of the room. We follow after him, our muscles taut, our senses on high alert. I swivel my eyes about the room, but it's still so dark that there's nothing to see save Legend's lantern and my Slate.

Time reaches the very center of the room. And a ring of torches spontaneously ignites. One by one in a rapid circle, they burst into flame and provide much-needed light. We all freeze, watching the fires ignite, and then cast our gazes about the rest of the room that has suddenly been revealed to us. It is, as we expected, a giant circle made of the same black stone. Yet no traps line the sides. No spikes protrude from the wall. No monsters are prowling in the shadows or along the ceiling.

"Twilight!" Time screams, his voice a strangled cry of horror and despair. We all whirl around, facing in the same direction as the eldest hero.

Sure enough, Twilight is standing on the opposite side of the room, just in front of the door we entered mere minutes ago. But he does not look okay. Malice squirms across both his hands, giving him deadly claws laden with the sickly goop. His tunic now has holes in it, and through the holes I can see tendrils of Malice crawling across his torso like ropes or snakes. Malice adorns his forehead, forming that same dark symbol that was long ago inked onto his skin, the mark now protruding from his body and glazed with the purplish ooze. His right eye is glowing yellow and pink, the exact same as the ones we've been destroying throughout this entire dungeon.

Beside him is the other hero, whose body is still decorated with Malice. Despite having been run through with the Master Sword the last time we met, he stands firmly on both feet, the hole in his chest having been fully repaired.

The two of them stand opposite us without speaking. None of us dare approach them, unsure what their presence means. Surely the Black Lizalfos isn't just handing us its infected captives. Some kind of battle must now ensue.

Twilight's shoulders shake as he stares at us, and he lowers his gaze. Malice curls around his neck, not enough to choke him, but as though it's thinking about it. Twi snaps his gaze back up to us, tears falling from his eyes. The ones from his Malice-eye are black and gunky. He doesn't seem to care. The hero beside him awkwardly rests a hand on his shoulder, shaking his head.

"Say something!" I scream, my hands shaking so fast the sword I'm holding vibrates in my grasp. "We've been searching for you for all this time and now we find you and you don't have anything to say?"

Twilight's lips part, and he casts his gaze aside again, the tears continuing to fall. After a moment, he locks eyes with me and I shudder. That one eye really is horrible. B-but I can cure him. I hope. Sky's infection wasn't like this. But a phoenix tear is fabled to be able to cure any illness. I have to cling to that hope. Still, he says nothing. His blue eye burns with desire, but he keeps his mouth shut.

"You really don't have anything to say?" Legend pushes. "The cook's right! We've been trekking through this horrible fortress for days just looking for you!"

Twilight pulls his hands into fists and shakes his head.

"...Maybe he can't," Sky suggests, watching him with the Master Sword held weakly in his hands. "Maybe he wants to speak, but can't."

Twilight nods vehemently. The Malice that had been lingering around his neck suddenly races around his throat several more times before collapsing against his skin and choking him. He instinctively raises both clawed hands to pull at the liquidy noose, but of course it does no good. He coughs and hacks, specks of thin Malice flying from his lips, his skin slowly turning blue. He can't breathe. The hero beside him just stands and watches, his gaze forlorn, but he refuses to help his fellow captive. Perhaps he will meet the same fate if he tries to assist. The Malice doesn't just infect their bodies. It controls them.

After several solid minutes, the Malice unwinds from Twilight's neck and allows him to breathe again. He inhales deeply for a few moments, turning back to face us.

"T-Twilight, I can cure you!" I call to him, holding up his crystal. "I can heal you, I promise." I take a step towards him. His gaze hardens. The Malice that's been lazily crawling around on his torso and his back rises upwards, like thick tentacles. I freeze, taking a step back, and the Malice relaxes. "Twilight…" I breathe.

"He's right!" Time adds, his face drained of its color. "Wild can heal you both! You just have to let us come to you. Please, Twilight…Please."

Twilight lowers his gaze, shaking his head.

"I don't think he has a choice," Warriors whispers somberly.

"Yes, he does," Legend spits. "All he has to do is let that stuff choke him again. We'll be over there in a split second, Wild can cry on him, and everything will be fine."

Twilight shakes his head again.

"I don't think it's that simple," Four mumbles.

"We have no choice but to fight them," Warriors says softly. "That's what the lizard wants. And it's orchestrated perfectly, we have no choice."

"What do you mean?" I question. "They haven't attacked us, we're not going to start it!"

Warriors glances at me. "They'll start it if we start walking towards them. Did you see those tentacles?"

"We can't leave this room," Four agrees, his eyes flashing between blue and red and violet and green. "And the sound we heard earlier wasn't that other door locking…"

"...It was them coming in," Hyrule mutters.

Warriors nods. "They're standing between us and our only way out. Not to mention we all want to go to Twilight anyway. We have no choice. We must fight."

"W-we could just wait," I say quietly. "Until they make a move…or leave…or something."

"We're running low on food," Time says, his eye hollow. "Right?"

"Well, we could ration for-"

"Why would we do that?" Warriors snaps. "What is the point? They're not going to leave! I doubt they even need to eat!"

"Don't say that!" I cry. "Don't act like they aren't people!"

Across the room, Twilight clenches his jaw at those words.

Warriors huffs. "Wild, that won't get us anywhere. It will only make our situation more dire. The longer we draw this out, the more tired and hungry and irritable we'll all be. And those disadvantages won't apply to them, I just know they won't. So, like I was saying. We don't have a choice. We're fighting them."

"But I don't want to do that!" I scream, stamping my foot on the ground. "I won't do that! You can't make me!"

Warriors sighs. "Wild, you must see reason. What good is us sitting here going to do?"

"I don't know!" I admit. "I don't know, okay? B-but I can't just…" I stare at Twilight across the room. He's staring back at me intensely. I won't fight him. I just…I won't. I don't know what else to say.

Twilight's POV

I stare at Wild and all the others desperately. But staring is the only thing I can do. Our orders were very clear. Dark told us to stand here, on this half of the room, and keep our mouths shut. We're not allowed to communicate with them. Not allowed to touch them. Not allowed to do anything except attack. We're free to attack whenever we want. And if neither of us choose to initiate the attack, the moment any of them step onto our side of the room, we're forced to attack.

And Legend's assumption is wrong. If they step across the room and we resist, the Malice won't just choke us. It will seize control of our muscles and make us fight. The possession is painful and effective, First told me. The others might think they have no choice, but truly it is First and I who are powerless. My only heart's desire is to be reunited with all the others, and there they are standing in the same room as I am, only a few moments of running away, yet I can't go to them. There they are, on the other side of the room, talking about whether or not they need to attack me.

Wild's crying. His tears glisten in the torch's meager light. Time rests a hand on his shoulder, hiding the fact that his own fingers are shaking. Warriors is yelling. He wants to fight. And he's right. First and I are not leaving until the battle has been fought. We don't need food or sleep or drink. We have plenty of darkness to thrive off of in this very room. Our Malice and our bodies will be functional for much longer than their meager supply of food will sustain them for.

I sigh heavily, the Malice curling around my body caressing my face, as though trying to reassure me. I push it aside, but it digs into my skin and joins my bloodstream, which is already burdened with the horrible stuff.

First stands beside me with his expression drawn. There's nothing we can do, and he knows it. He looks at me and just shrugs. I shiver.

"What if you just shoot him?" Warriors questions finally. "Don't even make it personal. Just shoot him."

"Y-you do it!" Wild replies.

"You're a better shot."

"I refuse."

Warriors huffs.

"Have a heart, Captain," Four says. "Don't be so irritated with him."

Warriors looks right at me, nocking an arrow in his bow and aiming it at my chest. My eyes water, and I start crying again. I didn't think he'd be so willing to shoot me. It's the right course of action, but I didn't think any of them would find it this easy.

"Don't act like I want to do this either," Warriors spits, his arm quivering. "But we've already lost him. We can't lose anyone else."

"We haven't lost him!" Wind says, pulling on the older man's arm, forcing the arrow off-target. "We can save him! Come on, you have to believe that!"

Warriors clenches his jaw. "All I'm concerned with right now is getting all eight of us out of here."

"We came in here in the first place to make it nine again," Time says sternly.

Warriors shoves Wind off himself. "Wild can try to heal them once they're unconscious. How's that, Twilight?" he calls to me.

I don't move. Shaking my head would cause the Malice to choke me again. Warriors holds the arrow steady.

"What do you think, Twi?" he repeats.

And he knows it. He wants me to choke. So that I won't move when he fires. Anger rushes through my veins. He wants me to choke. He has no idea what I've endured over the past few days, the control I've suffered, the pain I've felt, the simple yearning to get back to them, and now he wants me to choke. I wouldn't even care if they felt the need to shoot me. I do need to be debilitated. It doesn't take a genius to figure that out. B-but I don't deserve to choke. I just lower my head, exposing my neck, and close my eyes.

The snap of a bowstring fills the silence. But the arrow head doesn't meet my skin. I look up. My Malice has caught it. It hovers right in front of my face now, the tip inches from my nose. The Malice lets me stare at it for a moment, as though expecting praise that it saved me. Then it turns the arrow around and drenches the tip in Malice. The arrow is launched forward, straight towards Warriors's chest. I cry out, hopelessly reaching my hand out as if to stop it. It's moving too fast, Wars' can't dodge that fast it's going to-

A tendril of Malice knocks it from its course and it veers off to the left, around the others, clattering to the floor uselessly a few feet away from the wall. I heave a sigh of relief and look to First. His hand is outstretched, and a tentacle of Malice has extended from his back and rests where it knocked the arrow away. First knows how to use his Malice. I don't. That much is obvious. He lowers his hand, and the Malice returns to his body. The others stare at him in shock.

"See?" Wild yells at Warriors. "I said don't act like they aren't people!"

Warriors hangs his head. "I don't want to do this either, Wild. But we have to get out of here."

"Then fight," First says coldly. His Malice curls around his throat and he starts hacking. The others stare at him intensely. I pull my hands into fists. We're not allowed to help each other when this happens. "It's…your only…chance…" First says, spitting out the words between coughs and gasps. Every word has the Malice squeezing harder, but he finishes the sentence anyway. "Only chance…before Dark…comes…"

The others look confused. But First is right. They need to understand what he's telling them. "The Black Lizalfos!" I call. Malice wraps around my neck and squeezes tight. "He'll…" I cough, the air being forced from my lungs, pain blossoming around my neck as the Malice presses harder. "...come…fight you…if we don't…finish this…" I fall to my knees, the Malice pressing so tightly my vision's gone blurry. My head is spinning, my chest feels weak, and my neck aches like it's been bruised. Breaths won't come and I can't see any longer to tell what the others do with our rushed information.

For several long minutes I suffer as the Malice squeezes and squeezes. I fall from my knees and lie on my side, my entire body limp. I lack the oxygen needed to even control my body. I make out the color green just in front of me and gather that First is also lying on the floor, both of us completely motionless. I lack the cognitive ability to even cough anymore. The Malice just squeezes tighter and tighter and I wonder if it's actually going to straight up kill me.

Then just like that, it releases me. I suck in a deep breath and sit upright. Beside me, First does the same thing. We lock eyes with each other, then look across the room. All eight other heroes have stepped onto our side of the room. This was a unified decision. Warriors's expression is empty and haunted. Wild is still crying. Wind is shaking. Sky can barely hold the Master Sword. Time's jaw is clenched. Four's eyes are flashing colors so fast I feel dizzy just looking at them. Legend has his blade drawn and his hand steady, but his face betrays his displeasure. Hyrule is staring at the floor, I suppose trusting the others to tell him when he needs to pay attention. None of them want to do this. But they trust First and I enough to know that this is the only way out.

Malice seizes control of my body. The stuff that has been in my bloodstream since the day of my infection suddenly flushes throughout my nerves, taking hold of my muscles and senses. I still have some control, I can feel. It's willing to share command of my body, it's vessel. But only if I do as it wants to, and attack the other heroes. First pulls his hand into a fist, and tendrils of Malice expand from his back. He looks straight at the other heroes and narrows his eyes. "Go for my stomach." A tentacle of Malice presses itself over his mouth, preventing him from speaking again. But he said what he wanted to. That wound in his stomach, covered only by Malice and not by skin. If someone can tear that apart, he'll be out of this fight.

Then First thrusts his hand forward and Malice rushes forth, expanding from his body and charging all eight heroes at once. My Malice compels me to help him. Driven by instincts that aren't mine, I hold out both my hands. Malice floods from my outstretched appendages, forming whiplike additions to my arms.

"Disgusting," Warriors mutters, cutting away a tendril of Malice. The part he cut away falls to the ground, squirming desperately until it dies without a host to sustain it. The rest of the heroes say nothing as they combat First's tentacles. Though simple to cut one away, the fallen hero simply nods his head each time one is killed, and another one rises to take its place. He doesn't even have to really move to fight like this. The tendrils stream from his back and rush forth, each one seemingly with an independent mind of its own.

I wince as the Malice in my brain insists I focus on myself. Armed with these strange whips, I rush the others. I don't want to, but I'm left with no choice. Time hurriedly slices the tentacles attacking him away and turns on me. I swing my arm vertically, my own limbs beyond my control, and the huge whip of Malice follows my hand, the very tip of it curling towards Time's throat. The eldest hero rolls out of the way, gritting his teeth. He brings his blade down on the whip, but it easily regrows itself.

"So that's how it is," he mumbles.

"Cutting the Malice will never do us any good!" Four calls. "We need to go for them!"

"T-they have to run out of Malice eventually," Wild objects. "Can't we just-"

"No," I reply. "You can't. It won't work. We'll just-" Spare Malice crawls across my mouth now. First is still gagged. We've given all the advice we can give. The others will have to figure it out on their own now.

Time nods. "Thanks, Twi."

"We're really sorry!" Wind adds.

I nod in understanding.

Legend slides under a horizontal strike of my whips, rolling to his feet and running straight towards me. The Malice extending from my arms retracts, regrowing into thick spikes much better suited for close combat. The Malice along my back rises from my skin and forms two sharp tentacles that poise themselves as Legend draws closer.

"Legend, watch it!" Warriors calls, hurriedly cutting down First's Malice and running to the veteran's aid.

Legend says nothing as he gets near to me. Behind my gag, I grit my teeth as I'm forced to jab one of the spikes towards him. He blocks it with his shield, and Malice splatters against the metal plate.

Warriors comes to stand beside Legend now, and the two of them try to overpower me. I block the Captain's first stab with the Malice on my arms, the coating too thick for the blade to reach my skin. He forcibly pulls it out, the metal now coated with purple goop. He shakes the stuff off of it, forcing Legend to cover for him as the Malice from my back darts towards his neck.

Beside me, Time is pushing his way towards First. He has managed to draw the attention of every Malice tendril, leaving the others free to attack as they see fit. Four and Sky are running forward, the Master Sword blazing white and Four's eyes settling on green. Wild stands behind them all, an arrow nocked in his bow, his hands shaking.

I turn back to my own fight. I don't really have to pay attention. I'm not doing anything. My body moves for me, my physical capabilities overridden by my infection.

"You got a better idea, Captain?" Legend demands as I bat both of their attempts to swing their blades aside yet again. My Malice is simply too thick for their swords to do any damage. They can't reach my skin, can't possibly draw blood. And the Malice they get rid of is easily replaced.

Warriors narrows his eyes. I slash horizontally. He cuts the end of the spike off, and it regrows within seconds. A third tendril rises from my back now. My Malice has been deplenished too much for its liking, and it will lose control of me if even a little more is destroyed. So this third tendril sticks straight up and quickly absorbs some of the unlimited darkness in this dimly lit room. The dark substance feeds my infection, and the Malice on my body replenishes itself rapidly. My spikes reinforce themselves, and the ever-present chains around my torso thicken again. The tendril returns to my back once my Malice has eaten enough darkness.

First does the same thing. Too much of his tendrils are cut away, so his Malice immediately begins drawing darkness from the surroundings. Black smoke seeps into his Malice, especially around his stomach. He doesn't need the extra tendril. I suppose he's just better at this than I am. Not like I care.

Out of the corner of his eye, Warriors watches First drink up the blackness. The room seems a little lighter for a moment, and then one of his Malice tendrils extinguishes one of the torches, sacrificing itself in the flames for the greater good of its host.

"They need darkness," Warriors mutters.

I nod.

"The Malice feeds on darkness," Warriors goes on.

"If we can get rid of the darkness, the supply of Malice will be limited," Four adds from across the room, ducking under First's tendrils.

First nods.

"All we need is light," Time finishes.

Warriors backs off me. I don't let him. I run towards him now, forcing him on the defensive. Seven tentacles rise from my back. I jab forward with both spikes. He blocks them. The tentacles rush forward, curling around his arms and pinning them to his side. Like liquid ropes, he's got Malice wrapped around his entire body within seconds. I push him to the ground, digging my spike into his stomach and drawing blood.

"Wars'!" Legend cries, running to help him with my Malice distracted.

First abandons his offensive and covers me as my Malice digs a hole in Warriors's stomach. He screams in pain, consciousness quickly fleeing from him.

"Wild!" Sky yells.

Wild nods. I glance up and watch as he grasps my crystal in his bare hand. Black squares erupt from his body. I can feel that my Malice yearns to feed on them, but it focuses on this immediate task. First's tendrils ward off the others. Warriors is mine. The hole in his stomach is now big enough. Blood gushes from the wound as he lies on his back, his gaze unfocused, bound by the sickly purple goo. One last tendril of Malice rises from my body. And rushes straight into Warriors's stomach. He cries out in pain once again, his fingers clawing for the infected wound, but his bonds won't let him reach. More Malice forces itself into his body. I can feel it leaving me, breaking off, adapting to his body, and becoming his. He hisses in pain, writhing as best he can, the Malice beginning to sow his wound back together. It joins his bloodstream and his exposed veins now appear purple as the excess Malice within them hurries across his entire body. One of his eyes is overtaken by yellow and purple and evil. I watch in horror. So this is what Dark wanted. Through his fight, he hopes to infect all of us.

A burst of flames distracts everyone. My Malice instinctively draws away from the flash of light, replenishing itself in the darkness. The ropes around Warriors leave him now, but he lays on his back with a lost look in his good eye.

First and I stare at Wild in shock. Our Malice shivers in fear. A phoenix. That's his true form. That's what Dark told us, but I had simply forgotten. It makes sense; a hero that had risen from the dead himself given an immortal form known for dying and being reborn, a hero that loves to explore given the luxury of flight, and a hero whose preferred tool for many things being fire given access to holy flames.

Wild stands still for just a moment, his golden wings outstretched, his long extravagant tail feathers rustling slightly, flames racing across his entire body. Then he hops into the air and flies straight to Warriors. I move to intercept him, but he pushes me aside, thrusting a wing into my chest. My Malice smolders and dies as it contacts his fire, and it quickly allows me to retreat.

Wild stands over Warriors for a moment, the Captain staring up at him desperately, his entire body shaking in fear as his chest is rapidly overrun with squirming Malice that stretches towards the ceiling of the room, searching for darkness to feed on.

First and I just watch as Wild stands over him, the others moving to stand close to his bright flames, too close for our evil Malice to dare approach. Wild begins to cry again. Tears fall from his eyes, landing in Warriors's Malice. Flames ignite upon contact, and the fire spreads across all of Warriors's Malice, destroying it quickly. His uneven and terrified breaths even out as the Malice is burned out of his system. The fire dives into his skin and likely pursues the substance left in his bloodstream. His cursed eye is surrounded by healing fire for a moment, and when it clears the eye is blue again. First stares with desire in his own blue eye. He clenches his hands in fists, staring at the floor. I walk to him, resting a hand on his shoulder, nodding to him. Malice still gags us both. But I silently reassure him that Wild can do that for us too. We don't have to live like this forever. We too can be cured. All we have to do is lose this fight.