[Location: Evocaier Academy – Research Center – Night – Year: 1092 Ad Felicitas]
The white room was silent, only filled with the soft hum of the Evocyte crystal echoing off the walls. Drifter sat in the corner of the room, his back pressed against the cold wall. His gaze was empty, focused on the Black Cube floating quietly in the center of its protective field. The whispers continued to gnaw at his mind, never stopping, like cold winds sneaking through cracks.
The room itself seemed trapped in the tension. Every second felt like a thorn pressing slowly. His vacant gaze remained unchanged until something touched his consciousness—a voice that was unlike usual. A distortion, like a rift in the world speaking to him.
"They... are coming..."
His eyelids blinked once, slow but sharp. His empty gaze now ignited, flashing with an unusual gleam—not just awareness, but something darker, deeper. His lips curled slowly, forming a twisted smile. It wasn't a smile of relief, but something far more unsettling—like the shadow of a predator finally finding its prey.
His body trembled slightly, then slowly moved. Tension spread through every muscle, as if a wire was being pulled taut to the breaking point. Blue light enveloped him, forming a shimmering black armor, while his black cloak fluttered gently, billowing in the air vibrating with energy.
Exaltare materialized in his hand, the dark gray sword glowing with a vibrant blue light, pulsing in sync with the energy in the room. The air trembled as he stood, his body firm, full of resolve. He raised his left hand, filled with blue energy.
Exalt Storm.
Blue sigils of light appeared around him, floating like living patterns dancing wildly with the writhing energy. The blasts of blue energy from the sigils and his left hand ricocheted off the walls, casting moving shadows without direction. The protective field around the Black Cube flickered, seemingly responding to the storm of power released from his body. The sounds from inside the Cube merged with the energy, creating a dissonant harmony of chaos.
Then, slowly, two figures emerged from invisibility.
The first was a young man with silver hair. His hair shimmered like living lightning, and the two daggers in his hands emitted flashes of wild blue electricity. Every movement was fast, hard to follow. He jumped, dodging energy blasts that slammed from all directions, his body like a shadow dancing among the storm.
The tall, slender figure moved with a calm grace, seemingly untouched by the chaos around him. His black suit was immaculate, every crease perfectly aligned. A fedora partially obscured his face, while an eye patch over his right eye added an air of enigmatic sharpness. In his hands, he wielded two crescent moon-shaped tonfas, their surfaces glowing with an unnatural, fiery light. These were Vimorian Moralistra, weapons that radiated heat like a volcanic eruption, softly humming with latent destructive power.
image [https://i.ibb.co.com/VLh2KT8/02-1.png]
The man spun his tonfa with casual ease, but each flame on them curled like a living snake. His voice was laid-back, yet the subtle mockery in his tone was impossible to miss.
“Well, well... Do you have some magical sight, or is that just pure skill? I’ll give credit where it’s due... that was impressive.”
Drifter's eyes flared with a dark gleam, his gaze sharp like a knife, ready to strike. The muscles in his brow tensed, revealing raw anger, while the corner of his lips curled ever so slightly.
"Fire and lightning user... whoever they are... I’ll crush them without mercy," Drifter thought.
Suddenly, the room trembled like the roar of a storm. Drifter's feet braced hard against the ground.
The man in the fedora smiled faintly, tilting his head slightly in a gesture that seemed both relaxed and almost dismissive.
"Ah, too bad the lights are still on. Looks like we’re about to get a real show, huh?"
Drifter's eyes sharpened, narrowing at him.
"No doubt about it... that vibration... Skyship Cannon... Damn... Looks like that nightmare is becoming a reality. I hope they all make it," Drifter thought.
The young man with silver hair suddenly disappeared in a flash of blue lightning and appeared at the side of the magisterial console. A small rectangular box in his pouch was thrown in three directions behind and to the sides, creating glowing blue portable shields to protect him, while his fingers touched the console near the Black Cube.
Drifter immediately disappeared into blue particles, Exalt Shift—moving him straight to the console's side. A series of slashes from Exaltare hit the shield, but suddenly he felt heat on his right side. The man in the fedora emerged from the flames with his dual tonfa blades—Vimorian Moralistra. He attacked Drifter with a slash that struck his arm, but Drifter's armor and natural barrier protected him.
“Oh, come now. Don’t spoil the fun for my partner,” he said, his tone dripping with mockery.
Drifter stepped back, but the man in the fedora advanced toward him with his weapon engulfed in raging flames. Drifter released a series of Spectral Swords towards the young man at the console. Dozens of Spectral Swords attacked from various angles, but before they reached their target, the man in the fedora snapped his fingers.
Click… the sound of his finger snap.
Suddenly, an explosion occurred in the air. The boom shattered every sword into bursts of energy.
The man in the fedora continued with a slash toward Drifter, but Drifter blocked it with Exaltare. Blue light and fire clashed in the room.
The man in the fedora chuckled softly.
“Ah, an Arcane Saber? How quaint. You don’t see those much anymore. A shame, really—almost a lost art.”
Drifter gritted his teeth.
“Damn... whether I like it or not, I have to deal with him.” he thought grimly.
With a burst of determination, Drifter activated Exalt Shift once more, his sword slicing through the air as it chased the fedora-clad man’s back. But the man moved with effortless grace, spinning his dual tonfa blades behind him without even glancing back, a smug smile playing on his lips.
Then, in one fluid motion, he whirled around, executing a perfect 360-degree slash. Drifter barely managed to step back in time to avoid the strike, but before he could regain his footing, the man in the fedora snapped his fingers with a sly grin.
Explosions of fire struck Drifter, but he quickly emerged from the smoke, his sword slicing toward the man’s head. The man in the fedora tilted his head effortlessly to dodge, then countered with a fiery kick that sent Drifter staggering backward.
"Quite nimble," the man in the fedora said casually, his voice almost playful. "But lacks impact." He winked, slipping a subtle jab behind his words.
Drifter’s eyes widened. “…This won’t be easy,” he reflected with a sinking feeling.
With a deep breath, Exaltare began to shine brightly, the blue energy around its blade intensifying. Determined, he swung his sword, unleashing a barrage of Exalt Edge—a rapid succession of blue energy waves surged toward the man in the fedora.
However, the man moved his dual tonfa blades with uncanny precision, slicing through each wave until the energy dissipated into nothing.
Then, the man in the fedora materialized a spinning red sigil in both hands. The glowing symbols radiated intense heat, filling the room with an oppressive warmth before disappearing as swiftly as they appeared.
Suddenly, Drifter felt an alarming heat beneath his feet, sharp and searing.
"What is he doing? A trap rune?" Drifter thought, his eyes scanning the room.
Drifter took a slow step to the side, while his eyes and body remained aligned with the man in the fedora.
Then the man in the fedora smiled faintly, his fingers raised. With a simple snap, his voice cut through the air with cold, terrifying calm.
"Flame Burst."
The explosion struck like a storm, its heat scorching Drifter’s hands and waist. The Lumina Core on his wrist shattered, scattering tiny, glittering fragments that vanished into the air. The pouch at his waist, which carried his Evocyte recovery items, burst apart, its remains falling lifelessly to the ground.
Drifter staggered but quickly steadied himself. His face remained composed, showing no hint of panic—only a cold, unwavering gaze filled with relentless determination.
“Ah, what a shame,” the man in the fedora mocked, a wide grin stretching across his face. He stepped closer, his voice dripping with satisfaction.
“Looks like your little energy drink spilled, didn’t it? How terribly unfortunate...”
As he finished speaking, he suddenly appeared from the flames in front of Drifter.
"Inferno Shrapnel," the man in the fedora said.
He swung his Fire Tonfa Blades in a quick motion, causing the blades to shatter into bursts of glowing energy scattered in chaotic patterns. Then, an explosion occurred.
Drifter jumped high and immediately slashed downward with one hand. As the man in the fedora blocked the strike, Drifter quickly fired an Exalt Bolt from his left hand. A series of blue projectiles shot quickly toward the man’s face. His red glowing natural barrier protected him, but the man’s fedora fell, and a smile spread across his face.
"Now that’s better..." the man in the fedora said with a relaxed tone.
Drifter was sweating, then glanced to his left. Slowly, the barrier protecting the Black Cube began to fade, while the young man was still busy at the console.
"No time left..." Drifter thought to himself.
[Location: Front Area of Evocaier Academy – Night – Year: 1092 Ad Felicitas]
The night wind howled fiercely. Friedrich stood among the Holy Knights, standing tall at the edge of the academy’s front yard. His eyes were fixed on the holographic display, reflecting the flickering red light from the central generator, the academy, and the hangar that had collapsed.
Then Friedrich, with his hand raised, spoke into the Lumina Core on his wrist. The ARF comms text flashed on the hologram screen.
“Research Center team, report in... Drifter, do you copy?”
The explosion in the distance grew closer, shaking the air and the ground beneath him. But Friedrich didn’t flinch, his voice low but firm.
Suddenly, the name Vilreth appeared beneath the ARF text, followed by his voice, steady but urgent.
“Commander, we’ve lost the golems and skyships. They launched a surprise assault on the hangar using Stealth Automaton.”
His jaw tightened, and Friedrich’s hand moved to the Clariven Mace at his side, gripping the weapon tightly. His eyes narrowed, the determination on his face becoming clearer.
“How many units are left?” he asked, his voice cold as steel.
There was a brief silence before Vilreth's emotionless reply came.
“Only four assault golems... two transport golems.”
Friedrich’s eyes darkened, his breath heavy but controlled.
“Bring them all here,” he responded, his tone commanding, unarguable.
In the tense silence, the sound of soft but confident footsteps caught Friedrich's attention. He didn’t need to look to know who was approaching. Without lifting his gaze from the battlefield before him, his voice was sharp, almost cutting.
“Did you hear my orders? To the shelter. Now.”
Alma stepped forward, her chin raised, her gaze defiant. Her voice trembled with emotion, but there was no doubt.
“We’re not going.”
For a moment, Friedrich stood silent. His gaze finally fell on Alma’s pinkish eyes, full of determination. His breath was barely audible, like he was holding something back. But the hardness in him quickly returned.
“Damn...”
Behind Alma, Nadia stood, her hands gripping her skirt. Her brown eyes, hidden behind glasses, gleamed with the same resolve, though her body trembled slightly. Friedrich looked at them, then turned to the group of students gathered behind them—Lorcan, Sloane, Reine, Caelus, Alyssa, Bryan, Erick, Vaeloria, Mia, Lily, and Vellya. Fear was clear on their faces, some even trembling. Yet, none of them stepped back.
Lorcan spoke first, his voice attempting to sound casual, though it wavered slightly.
“Oi, Alma, Nadia... don’t act like you’re the only tough ones. We’re here too, right?”
Caelus added calmly, but with deep meaning.
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“What else can we do? This city, this academy... it’s our home.”
A faint smile appeared on Alma and Nadia’s faces, though the tension didn’t fully lift.
Sloane looked into the distance, at the wave of automaton closing in.
“Eh, if you think about it... this is beyond our ability, right?”
Alyssa shot him a sharp look.
“Coward! We won’t lose, even if we die.”
Bryan shook his head slightly.
“But still, be careful, Alyssa. Don’t act rashly.”
Mia sighed deeply, her voice weak.
“Ugh... I just hope we don’t die young, alright?”
Vaeloria stepped forward, looking at everyone.
“Come on, whether we like it or not, we have to do this.”
Vellya, hugging her guardian skeleton tightly, spoke with a simple but firm conviction.
“Papa and Mama will protect all of us.”
Reine, Erick, and Lily stayed silent, their faces pale but not retreating.
Vaeloria turned to look at them gently.
“Are you okay? We’re not forcing anyone.”
Lorcan added with a rare serious tone.
“Yeah, if you’re unsure, it’s fine to go to the shelter.”
Reine smiled slightly, though awkwardly.
“Don’t worry, we’re always together, right? Just like always.”
Erick nodded firmly.
“Yeah, we’ll be fine.”
Lily glanced at Vellya and smiled shyly.
“If the little one is going... I have no reason to be afraid.”
Friedrich took a deep breath, his eyes sweeping over the young faces in front of him. Finally, with a heavy nod, he turned.
“Alright. But you listen carefully. Follow my orders. If I say retreat, you retreat. Understand?”
All the students nodded, fear in their eyes mingling with an unwavering determination. Friedrich turned to the instructors.
“Luna, Jaxon, Alina—keep them safe. Don’t let them act recklessly.”
Luna looked at him softly, but warmth could be heard in her voice.
“They will be safe. I’ll make sure of it.”
Alina’s voice was firm.
“We’ll protect them.”
Jaxon smiled faintly, but his tone was resolute.
“Ready. No one’s dying here.”
The ground began to tremble, the sound of metal machinery rumbling as it approached. Friedrich turned, his voice rising above the noise.
“Everyone, get ready! Hold the line!”
The first explosion followed, light and sound filling the night. The veterans moved forward, their weapons glowing with energy. The students followed behind, their fear cloaked in courage that refused to yield.
Alma stepped forward first, her left hand materializing a brightly glowing magical sigil.
“Let’s do this.”
By her side, Nadia materialized her own brown sigil, her voice soft but steady.
“I’m with you.”
Together, they stood at the front, facing the wave of automaton coming at them like a storm, the clash of steel and energy shaking the ground beneath their feet.
[Location: Evocaier Academy – Research Center – Night – Year: 1092 Ad Felicitas]
Drifter and the man in the fedora clashed, blue energy colliding with a raging red storm, sending sparks and fire flying. Each strike created an echo of metal. Drifter’s attacks grew sharper, his movements exploiting every opening. But the man in the fedora, moving almost like a dance, blocked each attack effortlessly.
Drifter focused on his breathing, narrowing his eyes, looking between the man in the fedora and the young man working at the console.
“I hope this works,” Drifter thought.
The blue swords around him moved, glowing like flowing water, circling toward the man in the fedora. He blocked and destroyed the swords, but in an instant, Drifter vanished into blue light particles—Exalt Shift. He reappeared near the console, but red light flared beneath him. Ignition Trap.
Boom!
A massive explosion erupted, sending a red-orange pillar of fire that consumed the area where Drifter stood. The heat was intense, scorching everything in its path. But Drifter was ready. Exalt Barrier surrounded him, a transparent blue shield pulsing with energy. The young man froze for a moment, eyes wide in surprise. Then, Azure Tempest was unleashed, filling the room with Drifter’s afterimages and blue slashes moving like a storm. But the silver-haired youth merged with the blue lightning around him, leaping high to dodge every blade of the storm. Meanwhile, Azure Tempest shattered all the portable shields and left deep gouges in the floor. After landing, a brief breath escaped from him.
“Man, that was close.” His voice was calm with a small smile appeared at the corner of his lips.
From afar, the man in the fedora smile widened.
“Don’t tell me that was your best shot.”
His teasing tone was light, but enough to frustrate Drifter. He stood firm, materializing his Exalt Barrier again. The blue shield pulsed, protecting him, ready for the next attack.
The man in the fedora raised an eyebrow.
“You think you can take me head-on? Bold... but foolish.”
He dismissed his dual tonfa blades, and with a flick of his hands, red sigils appeared, releasing a barrage of Ember Precision. Molten fireballs formed at Leif’s fingers, glowing with fiery energy. With a wave of his hand, the fireballs shot toward Drifter, leaving a trail of ember smoke, exploding and destroying Drifter’s Exalt Barrier. But Drifter materialized a new Exalt Barrier each time his barrier was destroyed.
Drifter's breathing grew heavier, his eyes narrowing as the pressure mounted.
“Just a little more...”
There was a pause. The man in the fedora stopped for a moment, his hand halfway through the swing. His brow furrowed slightly. Drifter didn’t waste the chance. In an instant, he dashed forward.
Exaltare moved fast, slicing through the air with a bright blue gleam. A flurry of slashes hit hard, destroying the man in the fedora’s natural barrier. The final strike pierced his black suit, leaving a deep wound. Dark red blood flowed from the wound, soaking the fabric.
The man in the fedora winced, his voice low and strained.
“Tch...”
His hand lifted, gathering fire energy, and touched the wound on his side. Golden fire wrapped around his gloved hand, mixing with the red blood, healing the injury. Across the room, the silver-haired youth froze, his cold expression cracking slightly in surprise.
However, the victory was short-lived. Drifter felt his breath become ragged, pain spreading throughout his body. The light from Exaltare faded.
“Damn... My Evocyte Reserve is almost gone,” he thought.
The man in the fedora straightened up, wiping the blood off casually. His smile returned, full of wild confidence.
“Ah, bravo! That was almost... entertaining. But, I’m afraid the show ends here.”
Suddenly, the man in the fedora disappeared into flames and reappeared in front of Drifter, his gaze wild, his smile wrong. His strikes became faster and more aggressive. Drifter struggled to block, retreating step by step, with no chance to strike back.
When the man in the fedora slashed vertically with his dual tonfa blades, accompanied by a shockwave of fire, Drifter raised his left hand to form a small Exalt Barrier. The shield held for a moment, causing the man in the fedora to stagger briefly. Quickly, Drifter spun and slashed at his right arm. The jacket tore, leaving a cut on his skin. Drifter then followed with dozens of Spectral Swords shooting toward the man in the fedora. But with a single slash of his tonfa blades, the man in the fedora created a large wall of fire that destroyed all the Spectral Swords.
Suddenly, the silver-haired youth's voice rang out.
“Done,” he said briefly, his voice sharp and cutting through the air.
Drifter turned quickly, his eyes locking on the source of the voice—the shield around the Black Cube had vanished. The silver-haired youth touched the Black Cube, dark energy pulsing beneath his fingertips, emitting a strange light.
A cold sensation filled Drifter’s chest, like a black hole swallowing all hope.
“Stay calm... It’s not over yet. If I can take down the guy in the fedora, this ends.” Drifter thought, trying to push down the surge of emotions building inside him.
In an instant, Drifter used Exalt Shift, teleporting to the right of the man in the fedora and unleashing Azure Tempest. Drifter's afterimages and blue slashes tore through the air relentlessly. However, the slashes only struck a fire dummy, which slowly dissipated, leaving nothing but emptiness. Suddenly, the air around him heated, as though an unseen flame had ignited. A series of explosions erupted, hitting him with brutal force.
Drifter dropped to one knee. His natural barrier held for a moment, but Azure Tempest ceased. The man in the fedora appeared to his left, and with a single slash of his tonfa blade, Inferno Shrapnel detonated. The explosions ravaged Drifter, shattering his barrier. A sharp pain seared through his ribs, causing him to gasp for breath. His body was flung backward, crashing into the floor with a resounding thud. The sound echoed through the room.
The world spun. Light and shadow blended, fire and metal overwhelming his vision. He tried to prop himself up, but his strength had drained. Blood flowed from his side, pooling around him.
The man in the fedora dismissed his Vimorian Moralistra, which dissipated into red fire particles. He then stepped forward, picked up his fedora, put it back on, and turned toward Drifter.
“Well, what a shame... looks like the prize is already in our hands.” His grin widened, dripping with satisfaction and a hint of dark amusement.
The taunting words cut deeper than the wound. Drifter lay there, gasping for breath, the remaining blue particles of Exaltare and his black armor fading into the air.
The silver-haired youth and the man in the fedora walked quickly toward the exit. But the man in the fedora stopped at the doorframe, glancing briefly at Drifter’s weakened body while holding his fedora. A small smile appeared on his lips.
“Don’t take it personally. It’s just business.”
Outside, the black Alcherider slowly appeared, its wide shape with a sharp nose, aggressive angles, and aerodynamic body cutting through the air. The vehicle hovered calmly, its cold blue light glowing.
Before boarding the vehicle, with a snap of his fingers, the man in the fedora triggered Concussive Flame.A deafening boom erupted, like multiple thunderclaps, accompanied by blinding light, followed by a massive fireball that formed a giant mushroom cloud with a powerful shockwave and extreme heat. The explosion shattered the silence of the night, lighting up the sky from the man in the fedora’s back. His smile brightened the darkness. The silver-haired youth watched coldly, his gaze never leaving the now-ruined Research Center, the grand building destroyed, leaving only the trace of a massive mushroom explosion that consumed everything.
“Well... it always ends with a bang,” the silver-haired youth said as he entered the cockpit, ready to take the controls. On the left, the man in the fedora followed, his smile never fading as he calmly shut the door.
[Outside the Research Center – Verm Evocaier Academy – Battlefield – Night]
The ground shook violently. Tremors rippled like waves, tearing through the battlefield with brutal force. An explosion roared, its sound like the cry of a dragon, blending with the clash of magic, the clang of steel, and the screams of war.
Sloane Gast flinched, nearly losing his balance as he deflected a sudden attack with his dagger Zephyra Fang. His face went pale, his eyes wide as he stared at the source of the explosion that rattled the earth. His breath caught in his throat.
"What in the world was that?
A panther-shaped automaton, its black metallic body glistening under the light, leapt from the shadows. Its movements were fluid, almost silent. Its claws lashed out, sharp as blades, barely missing Sloane’s skin as he rolled to evade. Wild winds swirled around him, amplifying the panic in his every movement.
On the other side, Reine Lindt gripped Vireiscryne tightly, the shield trembling under the barrage of red energy blasts.
"That’s coming from the Research Center."
His voice was quiet but tense, his gaze fixed on the towering flames in the distance.
In the distance, Alina Walsh, wielding the Greatsword Frostshard Legacy, tore through the attacking automatons with sheer, unrelenting power. But suddenly, she stopped in her tracks. Her eyes locked onto the firestorm raging across the sky, and her breath caught in her throat.
"Luna... is that—"
Her words trailed off, swallowed by the growing dread in her heart.
Luna Sabriel stood firm amidst the battlefield, though her breaths were shallow and strained. Her hands glowed with an icy blue sigil, freezing spells emanating with deadly precision, halting the advancing enemies in their tracks. Yet her gaze was locked on the inferno in the distance, her lips pressed tightly together. Despite her graceful composure, a shadow of fear crept into her expression.
"I know."
Her voice was flat, almost a murmur. But within that whisper, there was genuine concern. Her hands trembled slightly, though she forced herself to stay focused.
[Location: Evocaier Academy – Research Center – Night – Year: 1092 Ad Felicitas]
Cold enveloped Drifter’s body as he lay motionless beneath the rubble. The hard surface beneath him felt like ice, numbing his senses. His breaths came shallow and weak. The faint blue glow of the protective light from the Elysian Wardstone had shielded him from the worst of the explosion and debris, but just barely.
His vision blurred, the flickering lights overhead like a candle fighting to stay lit. The distant wail of alarms, the clash of battle, and the mechanical hum of approaching footsteps echoed faintly, like whispers receding into silence. Everything felt distant, as though he were sinking deeper into darkness.
His hand clung tightly to the fading Wardstone. Its warmth lingered for only a moment before it vanished, replaced by a biting, bone-deep cold. A faint whisper escaped his lips.
“Vina… you saved me again… I’m sorry… Wardstone… your precious one...”
The stone crumbled in his grasp, disintegrating into fine dust that floated away, disappearing with the last of his strength. The final memento of his past was gone.
The cold deepened, filling the room like a living presence. In the corners, the shadows twisted and stretched, moving like sentient creatures, watching him with silent intent.
With immense effort, Drifter forced his eyes open. A faint shimmer appeared in the corner of his vision, like rippling water. Slowly, the shimmer took shape, solidifying into a blurred figure. Its form shifted constantly—one moment human, the next something indescribable, something that defied the very fabric of reality. Its face changed with each shift, every transformation subtly wrong, as if the world itself rejected its presence.
The figure moved closer, its steps slow and deliberate, as if savoring the moment. A smile spread across its face—gentle, yet carrying a sinister weight. Its voice was soft, calm, but oppressively heavy.
“Hello again, my dear.”
The voice sent icy tendrils through Drifter’s veins, freezing his blood. It felt both familiar and alien, digging into memories he had buried deep. He tried to move, to speak, but his body refused to respond. Fear and weakness paralyzed him completely.
The figure crouched in front of him, its eyes like endless voids, staring directly into his soul.
“Oh, don’t bother. I can see you’re not quite up for a chat.”
Its tone was soft, almost mocking, wrapped in a veil of false affection. Its face shifted again, flickering in the dim light, like a half-forgotten nightmare. It leaned closer, its cold breath brushing against Drifter’s skin, sending shivers through him.
The figure spoke again, its tone soft but laced with hidden malice.
"I know what you’re thinking—‘Why are you here?’ Well, let’s just say I wanted to see how it all plays out...."
The words struck hard, dragging Drifter back into memories he could never escape. Visions of his friends fighting an impossible battle filled his mind. This wasn’t a dream. It was real. It was happening. He could feel the cold reality sinking into his heart.
The figure raised its hand, and the room plunged into complete darkness.
Suddenly, horrifying images flooded his thoughts:
Friedrich, wielding his glowing Mace, battling endless waves of enemies.
Luna, exhausted yet resolute, casting her spells in the chaos.
Alma, radiant with healing light, struggling to save the injured.
Nadia, trembling as she created barriers to shield the others.
They were all fighting, desperately clinging to survival. The figure’s voice cut through the nightmare, like poison spreading slowly.
"Look at them. They’re giving everything they’ve got, aren’t they? But it’s never enough."
The truth in its words choked Drifter’s breath. His heart raced as fear clawed through his body. He tried to move his hand, his fingers trembling, searching for something—anything—to hold onto.
The figure leaned closer, its whisper like a soft melody, tempting and sinister.
"I can change all this. Bring back the Cube, save them. All you have to do is ask."
The words hung in the air, tempting and alluring. Drifter froze, his mind caught between fear and the faint, impossible hope the words offered. But something about the figure—its knowing gaze, its overwhelming presence—felt deeply wrong. His body remained still, his voice stuck in his throat, even as his heart screamed in rebellion.
"No... This is wrong... but out there... they need me..."
The figure leaned in, its face nearly touching Drifter’s, its smile widening mockingly.
"You’ll change your mind, My Dear. You always do."
Then the figure stood. Its body shimmered and vibrated, causing the room to warp and distort. Shadows stretched and wrapped around it before it vanished entirely, leaving only a crushing silence.
Drifter lay still. His strength was gone, his mind haunted by terrifying images. He tried to hold on to the faces of his friends, but the darkness slowly consumed everything.
Before he could make a sound, before he could comprehend what had just happened, the darkness enveloped him completely.