The battle’s echoes reverberated across the expanse, an amalgam of clashes, war cries, and spine-chilling screams harmonising into a symphony of chaos.
Within this tumultuous scene, fires of ferocious intensity consumed all in their path, thunder rumbled with wrathful intent, water jets speared through obstacles; and turbulent winds clashed against ever-changing void creatures.
A cacophony emerged, a melding of weapons like spears and swords colliding with the concealed fangs of these void-born beings, intermingled with the human wails of defeat or the triumphant cries harkening the death of a void creature.
Hours had elapsed since our arrival at the heart of the Void Order’s stronghold, encountering an immense force of void creatures numbering in the thousands—voidlings and Voidborne alike.
The primary forces of the Void Order were nowhere to be seen, and we couldn’t assault their base recklessly for fear of being lured in, so we opted to focus on the main fight that was going on.
Curious about the toll, I turned to Cheryl, who stood beside me within our fortified base camp, protected by a vigilant squad. My companions were dispersed throughout other segments of our encampments, each zone fortified with sturdy hardwood barricades.
"In this span, we’ve witnessed the loss of 3000 lives," Cheryl responded, her voice carrying a mixture of sorrow and determination. "Nevertheless, our counterattacks have inflicted substantial damage on their forces, slashing their numbers nearly in half. I suspect…"
Her words were abruptly halted by a tremendous rumble that resonated through the surroundings, as if the very place quivered in response. Responding instinctively, I exited the tent swiftly, my gaze drawn towards the origin of this unsettling commotion.
At the same time, my companions emerged from their respective shelters, their expressions mirroring concern and urgency as they assessed the unusual disturbance.
Before us, a puzzling phenomenon unfolded. The Voidborne, among the horde of void creatures, exhibited erratic behavior. They began to undergo grotesque transformations, their forms expanding akin to bloated balloons.
As this occurred, a sinister pull emerged from their forms, ensnaring nearby humans and dwellers, their helpless bodies drawn irrevocably towards the Voidborne. Amid their horrified screams, these unfortunate humans were inexorably engulfed, merging into the creatures’ forms and giving rise to a gruesome amalgamation of inky black and reddish fluid.
Curiously, these noxious amalgamations, composed of twelve Voidborne each, displayed an uncanny affinity, with their individual liquids drawn inexorably towards one another. In this unsettling convergence, a singular entity took shape, emerging as a result of their macabre melding.
The entity before us dwarfed a typical Voidborne by a factor of three, yet stood in stark contrast to the usual black-bodied, red-spotted Void creatures. Its form was distinctly unique—an ever-shifting, gelatinous mass of reddish hue, adorned with pitch-black dots that resembled still, silent lakes, arranging themselves into simple yet enigmatic symbols.
Devoid of recognisable appendages like hands or legs, it boasted a multitude of tentacles, varying in size, that encircled its mass. Most striking were its three heads, each featuring a single, fixed black dot where an eye would be.
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An aura of potent pressure emanated from the creature, and those who dared to venture near it found themselves crumbling under its overwhelming might. The Venturers were hopelessly outmatched against this titanic adversary.
In an astonishing and alarming sequence, the scenario repeated itself. Soon, five of these colossal beings led the remaining void creature forces, their overwhelming power provoking a torrent of deaths among our ranks. This sinister development harkens a shift in the battle’s momentum.
Words escaped my lips, my voice hushed with trepidation: "Could it be that they've...?"
Kabir’s voice cut through the air, laden with disbelief as he finished my unspoken thought, "Evolved. This marks their third evolution!"
In the face of this newly evolved threat, time left no room for planning. As if in a grim symphony, our soldiers’ cries of torment resounded, unable to withstand the overwhelming might of these extraterrestrial monstrosities. Within a matter of mere minutes, nearly half of our remaining forces had been mercilessly obliterated.
"Initiate Operation ‘Cataclysm’!" Gary’s authoritative command resonated through our encampment, amplified by the relic he held.
With swift precision, our troops began to withdraw, creating a path that led to three solitary figures moving with deliberate steps towards the advancing enemy horde. These figures were none other than the three Heralds themselves.
In that tense moment, the First Herald, Kabir Khurana, conveyed his readiness through a subtle nod, a silent signal he had been poised to give.
Eugene, the third Herald, intervened, placing his hand gently on Kabir’s shoulder. This simple touch caused Kabir to defy gravity, ascending high above the battleground as if standing on an invisible floating platform.
The atmosphere grew charged with anticipation as Kabir held his position, his hand conjuring three distinct arrows. Notably larger and pitch-black, these arrows shone with a unique brilliance. Crafted from the residual essence of Indikar and Lemonia, two fallen Voidshades, each arrow contained remnants of their formidable powers. One was imbued with lethal, explosive poison; the other carried an otherworldly infection.
Just as the enemy forces neared the point of breaching our barricade, Kabir released the trio of arrows, sending them hurtling towards the fray. But these arrows were not aimed at the advancing foes; instead, they embedded themselves in the ground at separate locations, each marked by a telltale arrowhead.
A new phenomenon unfolded in the aftermath of Kabir’s strike. From these arrow-studded points, three dark blue vortexes emerged in the air, slowly evolving into menacing tornadoes. These tempests were born of Kabir’s thermal manipulation—warm air’s tendency to rise and expand, contrasting with the sinking and contracting of cold air. When the air’s potential alters abruptly, an inflow of air rushes in, birthing these destructive vortexes.
Filled with the deadly essences of viruses and poison, these tornadoes manifested the essence of our Operation ‘Cataclysm’. The ferocious whirlwinds enveloped the newly evolved adversaries, tearing through them relentlessly.
The once-red bodies of the creatures transformed to a macabre shade of purple as poison coursed through their forms. The onslaught dismantled their structures; tentacles writhed in agony as segments of their bodies detached, and eerie yellowish worms crawled in chaotic patterns.
Operation ‘Cataclysm’, our contingency strategy formulated for crises of this nature, was now unfolding before us with both calculated precision and harrowing consequence.
**
The aftermath of Kabir’s assault revealed a scene of destruction. Those three unique arrows stood as the lone forces to counter the menace of four of those beings, their substance strewn across the battlefield. The impact wasn’t confined to their targets alone; the void creatures situated behind them bore the consequences, their ranks considerably diminished by the assault.
In the wake of this spectacle, our own troops erupted into battle cries, seizing the opportunity to engage the now-weakened void forces. This sudden reversal heralded a shift in the momentum of the conflict.
But before jubilation could ensue, an abrupt shift in pressure filled the air, coinciding with the entrance of five figures amidst the turmoil. Dominating this group was none other than Mrizem. As they materialised fully, their gazes fixed on me, their expressions betraying a trace of astonishment.
This was the prelude to the true conflict, the initiation of the genuine battle.
"Wallace, our paths intersect once more," Mrizem declared.