The Spire.

[Frisk E. Coyote]

The elder dragoness clenched her fists so hard that her claws drew blood from her palms, which leaked dully onto the ground. She knew the limits of her abilities. She was powerful, but she was also realistic, and there was no way a mere servant like her could match a god's sanction, the very being she was chosen to protect. "It's just another futile effort, Ryoji. One would think that after so much vain defiance over the centuries, a dragon like me would learn to give up in the face of odds like this." She flung an arm forward, eyes blazing, her blood flew up in an arch only to catch fire and solidify into what seemed to be a brilliant staff of light, which she twirled around skillfully before letting loose a powerful wave of magic fire to intercept Ryoji's attack, clashing with it, meaning to be disabled in place of Ereth's mana. They needed his magic more than ever now.

F'Nerah held the the shining weapon like a rifle, and as the light slowly drifted off it like wisps of glowing smoke and cinders, a golden bayonet with flame-like motifs engraved on the edges was the first to appear, followed by the rest of the weapon; a gleaming, flintlock rifle with ornate golden, flame-like designs, about six feet long. It seemed to be made of a mysterious marble and wood-like material entwined with gold. The rifle gushed steam out of ornate, motor-like exhaust valves at the back, and glowed like magma from every nook and cranny on it's being. "But where's the fun in giving up?" She smirked painfully, eyes shedding tears that resembled magma as the details on her body started glowing too, silently grieving for Katt and Nero, who seemed all but lost. "Come on, Ryoji, not many have seen my Searing Heart before! Allow me to show her off a little." She caressed the barrel of her rifle, then called out at her comrades. "Why is it always you youngsters who get into these situations? Honestly, you're like some organization hell bent on attracting cataclysmic godlike beings to invite you to your doom!"

Nero struggled and fought until he could barely move. He struck a rather studly pose that showed off most of his muscles, just in case he turned into a statue- at least he'd be immortalized in a way that made girls wet. The bits of gravel coated his body, up his neck, covering his ears, his eyes... everything went silent and dark. He liked it. He was born and raised in the dark, and silence was his lullaby. He could go like this, sure... but he wasn't raised by F'Nerah to be a slacker. The stone slowly coated his muzzle as he whispered his last words...

"Shadow... Blessing..."

The stone encasing Katt and Nero suddenly exploded outward, shattering like crushed taco shells. Black tendrils of wispy shadows were wrapping themselves around the feline and the winged lupine, like thick, black smoke, but more voluminous and solid until finally, there was an aura of darkness emanating from them, granting shadow-based speed, enhanced strength and durability.

"Ah..." Nero rotated his shoulder and turned his neck left and right, making cracking sounds with each turn. His voice seemed a little more... hollow. Echoey and silent, but still loud enough to be heard. It was like all the grief at a funeral manifested into his regular, upbeat tone of voice, and it sounded strange. "Thanks for the darkness, chum. But that got me a little STIFF." He slammed his fist into the ground, causing a forest of dense, jagged bones, strong and sharp enough to pierce unhindered through the through the tough stone-like surface of the spire, to erupt beneath Ryoji's feet. "Ha-HAH! Stiff! Get it? Stiff? Boner? Bones? Erection jokes! They get me every time."