As the towering shadow creature advanced, its twisted form a swirling mass of darkness and malevolent energy, Silas could feel the weight of his doubt crushing down on him. Every movement felt slower, every breath harder. The Two of Clubs he’d thrown had barely staggered the creature, and the Five of Hearts had done little more than irritate it. He had never felt so powerless, his cards as feeble as paper against this monstrous force.
Venom stood at his side, her daggers gleaming with precision as she faced the beast head-on, her eyes sharp and focused. But Silas knew—he could see it in the way she moved, in the slight tremor of her hands—that she was tiring. They had been fighting nonstop, pushing themselves to the limit, and now they were facing something neither of them were ready for.
The creature lunged again, its massive claw sweeping through the air with terrifying speed. Venom dodged the blow, rolling to the side and slicing at the creature’s limb with her daggers. But her blades passed through the dark mass as if it were smoke. The creature didn’t falter, didn’t slow—it was relentless.
“We’re not getting through to it,” Venom gritted, her voice strained. “It’s like trying to fight a nightmare.”
Silas wanted to respond, but the words caught in his throat. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the creature. It was massive—far larger than anything they’d ever faced—and it radiated an aura of death and despair that clung to the air like thick fog. His cards felt useless in his hands, the low numbers mocking him as he drew them, one after another, each weaker than the last.
Suddenly, the creature swung its arm in a wide arc, faster than Silas could react. Venom tried to dodge, but this time she wasn’t quick enough. The massive claw caught her across the chest, sending her flying through the air. She crashed into the stone floor with a sickening thud, her body crumpling into a heap near the base of a crumbling pillar.
“No!” Silas screamed, rushing toward her.
Venom lay still, her chest rising and falling in shallow, ragged breaths. Blood pooled beneath her, dark and ominous against the cold stone. Silas dropped to his knees beside her, his heart racing in his chest. She wasn’t moving. Her face was pale, and her hands, which had always been so steady, now trembled weakly at her sides.
“Venom, come on, stay with me!” Silas’s voice cracked as he tried to rouse her. He could feel the panic rising in his throat, the fear clawing at his chest. She had been the strongest among them, the one who had always kept her head in a fight. If she went down…
The creature let out a low growl, its glowing eyes fixed on Silas as it lumbered closer. It was toying with them, savoring their desperation.
Venom’s eyelids fluttered, and she groaned in pain, her body barely responding to Silas’s words. “Silas…,” she whispered, her voice faint. “I can’t… fight anymore.”
“No, no, don’t say that. You’re not done. You don’t get to be done!” Silas’s hands shook as he gripped her shoulders. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat a desperate plea for her to hang on.
Venom's eyes fluttered shut, her body going limp as she lost consciousness. Silas felt a cold wave of dread wash over him. He had never felt so helpless.
The creature’s heavy footsteps echoed through the cathedral as it approached, each step sending tremors through the ground. Silas could hear the stone cracking beneath its weight, could feel the oppressive heat of its dark energy pressing in on him. He turned to face the beast, his hand trembling as it hovered over his deck.
“Come on, come on,” Silas muttered to himself, frantically pulling cards from his deck. He drew the Three of Spades—useless. He tossed it aside, drawing again—Six of Hearts—weak. His frustration boiled over as he threw the card, the pitiful magic fizzling out before it even reached the creature.
“Why isn’t this working?!” Silas shouted, his voice filled with despair.
The creature let out another low growl, its eyes burning with malice as it loomed over him. Silas could feel the weight of his failure pressing down on him, suffocating him. Venom was down. His cards were useless. And the creature… the creature wasn’t even fazed.
He was failing. Again.
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Just like before.
The memory of the burning city flashed in his mind—the screams, the smoke, the smell of ash. His family, his friends, all lost because he hadn’t been strong enough. Because his cards had failed him. And now, here he was again, facing the same impossible odds, with the same worthless deck in his hands.
“I can’t… I can’t do this,” Silas whispered, his voice barely audible. His knees buckled, and he collapsed beside Venom, his hands gripping his deck in desperation. The creature’s breath washed over him, hot and foul, as it loomed closer.
But as his vision blurred with despair, something caught his eye—something at the bottom of his deck. A card he hadn’t drawn yet. A card he hadn’t even seen in years.
The Joker.
As Silas drew the Joker card, a surge of power coursing through his veins, a brief, sharp flash of memory tore through his mind—a flicker of his past, one he had tried to bury long ago.
The world around him seemed to fade, the grand cathedral and the shadowy creature dissolving as the scene from years before unfolded in his mind. He was a young boy again, standing at the edge of a city consumed by flames, his heart pounding in his chest. The sky was dark, filled with smoke, and the air choked with ash. Screams echoed through the burning streets, the sound of destruction all around him.
His family’s estate, once a proud home to one of the most powerful magical families in the kingdom, had become a smoldering ruin. Silas’s father, a man of great power and renown, had fallen that night, defending their home from the invading army of mages. His mother had died soon after, shielding Silas from the blast of a fireball that had torn through their house.
Silas had been left alone, surrounded by death and chaos. He had been too weak, too scared, to do anything but watch as everything he loved crumbled into dust.
In his hands, even back then, had been a deck of cards—his father’s prized possession, enchanted with powerful magic that had been passed down through their family for generations. But Silas had never learned to use them. He had been too young, too inexperienced, and in the chaos of that night, he had drawn card after card, desperately trying to conjure something, anything, to save his family.
But each card had been weak. Useless.
The Two of Spades. The Three of Hearts. The Five of Diamonds.
Each one had failed him, just as they had in the fight earlier. He had thrown them into the flames, watched them fizzle out as the fire consumed everything. His magic had failed when it mattered most.
That night, Silas had fled, running from the destruction, from the burning ruins of his home. He had wandered for days, lost and alone, until he had collapsed in the streets of a distant city. It was there that Marcus, a wandering member of the Aegis Guild, had found him—broken, defeated, but alive.
"Don't run from your power," Marcus had told him, long after Silas had joined the guild. "You can't run forever. One day, you’ll have to face what you’re running from."
The words echoed in his mind now, louder than ever. He had been running ever since that night—running from the fear of failure, from the weight of his past. The cards had always been a reminder of that night, of the lives he hadn’t been able to save.
But now, standing in the shadow of the massive creature, Venom’s limp form at his feet, Silas felt something shift inside him. He wasn’t the scared boy from that night anymore. He had power now. Power that Marcus had taught him to wield, power that he had honed in every battle, every mission.
This time, he wouldn’t run.
The vision faded, and Silas was back in the present, the cold stone of the cathedral beneath his feet. The creature loomed before him, its shadowy form writhing as it prepared to strike again. Venom lay unconscious, her body still and battered.
His hand hovered over it, trembling. The Joker was the wild card, the one that defied the rules. It was powerful, unpredictable, dangerous. His mentor, Marcus, had warned him never to use it unless there was no other option. The cost was too high, the power too wild. But now…
Silas’s resolve hardened. There was no other option.
With a deep breath, he drew the Joker from the deck. The card pulsed with an ominous energy, its surface shimmering with an otherworldly light. As his fingers closed around it, Silas felt a surge of power unlike anything he had ever experienced before. It was raw, untamed, and it coursed through his veins like fire.
The creature paused, its eyes narrowing as if sensing the change in Silas. It took a step back, a low growl rumbling from deep within its chest.
Silas’s breath came in ragged gasps as he stood, his body trembling from the force of the magic coursing through him. His vision blurred, the edges of the world distorting as the power of the Joker took hold. But in that moment, all the fear, all the doubt, melted away. He wasn’t running anymore.
His eyes, once filled with panic and hopelessness, now burned with a new intensity. He could feel the power of the Joker radiating from him, its magic crackling in the air around him.
“I’m not running,” Silas muttered, his voice low and steady. “Not this time.”
The creature roared, its massive form lunging toward him once more. But Silas didn’t flinch. With a flick of his wrist, he hurled the Joker into the air. The card spun, glowing brighter and brighter as it ascended, until it exploded in a burst of brilliant light.
The cathedral shook, the force of the explosion sending shockwaves through the air. The creature howled in pain, its form distorting and writhing as the magic tore into it. The shadows that had once clung to it like armor now peeled away, disintegrating in the light.
Silas stood tall, his eyes locked on the creature as it struggled to regain its form. His resolve was stronger than ever. This wasn’t the end. This was just the beginning.