Chapter 156: The Last Chapter
The ruins shook and the old stones creaked as they were pushed by the power released. Cracks in the ceiling let old dust tumble down and the object that stood at the center of the chamber was radiating a blinding light. The intense energy shook the place, making shadows leap out of their usual place and move in bumpy patterns over the stone walls. Every moment seemed to last forever in that room.
The group didn't move, not breathing, with their eyes on the thing coming out of the darkness—a huge and powerful guardian. The way it looked kept changing, only lasting for an instant like smoke inside a glass ball, with muscles dissolving and shifting as the relic's currents pulsed. The crimson eyes from the mass were old and without pity. Its speech reverberated as loudly as thunder in a long, deep canyon:
"Only those willing to sacrifice everything may claim me."
In a moment, everything around me split apart.
The chamber was gone.
They couldn't move, yet their thoughts were taken over by an illusion, each person facing a nightmare made from their own deepest fears.
---
Eldric was in a deserted and ruined landscape. The red flames from the sky lit the ground like a ghastly light. What I saw looked like old tombstones from an era that is long gone. I could smell smoke and regret in every corner of the room. Ash from the falling bombs stuck to his armor.
His steps sounded with every broken memory they touched.
It was at this point that phantoms of his history started to visit him.
Pictures of those who did not come home. Friends. Family. Innocents. Their eyes were empty and their lips were curled into accusation.
"You could have saved us, Eldric."
His surroundings were filled with voices pointing fingers and making him feel squeezed. An overwhelming sense of guilt took hold in his chest just like a vice. Reaching the ground, he put down his sword with just a soft noise. Tears ran freely down his face.
"I'm sorry… I tried…" His voice shook as he whispered. But the problems continued to get closer.
---
Ira made his way into a room dimly illuminated by torches. Her hands were soaked in hot, gloopy blood. Lying all around her were her siblings, fellow soldiers and even children she had known. She looked into their eyes which seemed to be watching her silently.
Her arms reached up to speak, to cry, but she was unable to let out any sound.
The only sound was the sound of blood dripping.
Her breathing stopped in her throat. Her legs gave way. As she reached for a person, panic hit her hard and she tried to wake them so she could stop what had taken place, but they just got colder.
Her sobs were silent, her hands holding her head tight and the quiet made a more powerful noise than any explosion.
---
He made his way through the ruined parts of where he grew up.
The green forests vanished and now only charred stumps could be seen. The dried out rivers looked like cracked streams. Wind made a sound like crying through what was left of old temples.
"Hello?" his voice was cracking as he called.
No answer.
That's when he saw a mirror, drifting up from below. He walked near the mirror and his own image looked back at him. But it wasn't him.
In the mirror he saw his own expression and the eyes of something evil. Pictures flashed in the mirror showing him burning hamlets, turning on his own people and laughing with glee while destroying. He banged the mirror hard with his fist while crying out.
Many different atrocities were reflected in the shards that remained.
He stepped away out of breath, with thousands of his worst selves watching him.
---
Natasha kept experiencing events over and over again.
A bright sun filled the field as she stood there. Alison laughed next to her. Then a loud scream could be heard. Blood. She crumbled into her mother's arms. Dead.
Again.
She was standing at the festival. There were colorful sparks high above us. Alison was moving to the music by dancing. A shadow. A scream. Blood. Dead.
Again.
And again.
There were different ways to kill, but each time it ended with death. Her closest friend, her happiness and her explanation—all packed up and gone. Her hands were always covered in red.
Her head began to hurt from repeating the same things. She started to sob instead of breathing.
"Make it stop! Please!"
She knelt down and held her head in her hands.
Then…a voice. Familiar. Steady.
"Remember why you fight."
Alex.
His voice soothed me, much as a hand shields you in a strong wind. For a moment, Natasha recalled his smile, their time together watching the stars and the instant he took her hand.
The crying stopped.
"I'm not alone."
She held onto the memories to keep herself going.
---
Meanwhile, outside the bubble, the relic reacted when Natasha put her mind to it. The illusion was broken as a sharp beam of light shot out of the orb.
There was a dull glow of warmth around Ira in her dream. Above, Natasha's blurry face appeared in the darkness, reaching out to her with her call.
"Ira. The whole thing is fake. Fight it!"
A feeling started to grow inside her. The picture of Natasha healthy and vibrant was more real than the illusion. Ira got up and shook, but she was still strong. She could see clearly again after truth struck her like a glass being hit.
Each person experienced the sound of her voice after her.
He remembered what he had promised. He worked to help, not destroy, our country. The illusion was no longer working for him.
Eldric looked up, saw his fallen friends not as accusers, but as people he'd loved. He would honor their memory, not be crushed by their deaths. The ash lifted.
They awoke, gasping, disoriented—but united.
Their shared determination glowed around them like a golden aura, pulsing against the looming dark guardian.
Their hands reached for one another, not in fear, but solidarity.
The guardian paused, its smoke form trembling. It howled in frustration—but its form began to stabilize. The relic responded to their unity, transforming into a glowing crystal orb, now humming with raw, balanced energy.
Natasha stepped forward, chest rising with each breath. Her hand reached out, and the orb floated into her grasp.
Its power surged through her—a rush of knowledge, memory, and light. Her eyes glowed with power.
But before she could say a word, the chamber trembled violently.
A shadowy figure emerged from the darkness, stepping through a tear in the air as if reality itself was ripping apart.
The betrayer.
Clad in dark robes lined with runes of forbidden magic, his face once familiar—now warped by greed and corruption. He had been thought dead. Lost in the abyss.
But now, he was back.
His eyes gleamed with malice, and his voice slithered like a curse.
"That power belongs to me. Hand it over, or die with the rest."
Lightning crackled across the relic, responding to the tension. The very walls of the chamber began to fracture, veins of darkness spreading like rot.
Natasha stepped in front of the others, her fingers tightening around the relic. Her sword shimmered into her hand, its edge glowing.
"You betrayed us once. You won't get another chance."
The betrayer smirked.
"Then perish."
The ground exploded as dark energy surged forward. The final battle had begun—light clashing with shadow, vengeance against hope.
And this time, no one would fight alone.