The beacon’s golden light flickered, casting long, dancing shadows across the room. Felix worked quickly, his bracer glowing as he manipulated the intricate runes, calibrating them to the ambient mana. I could see the strain on his face; sweat beaded at his temple as he forced the beacon to respond. It felt fragile, like everything might actually work—but only for a moment.
I shifted uncomfortably in the makeshift toga of dusty curtain fabric, the absurdity of my situation weighing on me. Chas must have noticed because he rummaged through a small pack, pulling out a set of plain clothes—just a shirt and pants, no shoes.
"Here," he said, tossing them my way. “Figure you could use these. Don’t want a crazy guy in a loincloth jumping through a portal—you’d give Lyra a heart attack.”
I caught them, blinking in surprise. “Thanks.” The fabric was rough, worn from use, but clean and smelling like vanilla. Far better than the ridiculous getup I had been wearing. Quickly, I slipped into the shirt and pants, pulling the fabric over my skin, feeling a bit more human again. They were loose, but it was still a massive improvement.
I was just tightening the drawstring on the pants when something shifted.
“Who’s Lyra—" I started to ask when a cold wind swept through the room, cutting through the fabric like ice. It wasn’t the kind of breeze that came from a window or door, but something deeper—something wrong. The floor trembled beneath my feet, and outside, the soft glow of the sky dimmed. The light from the wounded star was fading.
I wiped grime from the nearest window, squinting up at the sky. The sun—if you could even call it that anymore—was collapsing. What had once been a glowing orb, albeit damaged, was now a twisted, sickly purple mass, its light barely more than a faint pulse.
Felix cursed under his breath, his fingers moving faster across the runes. “Damn it,” he muttered, eyes flicking between his bracer and the beacon. “It’s starting.”
“What’s starting?” I asked, my voice tighter than I’d like.
Cassie’s gaze snapped to the window. “Void cascade,” she said, her voice flat. “We have to get that portal open.”
“I thought you said we had at least hours?” I looked to Chas. He simply shrugged.
“Guess he was wrong,” Felix growled, his calm demeanor evaporating. His hands trembled as he slammed them onto the beacon, sending a jolt of lightning through it. “The calculations just changed! I have to start over!”
I glanced at Felix’s bracer. The runes flickered erratically, some of them glitching out as if the device itself was struggling to keep up. His focus sharpened as he tried to compensate, but the swirling runes spun out of sync again. Felix’s face twisted in frustration. He was running out of time.
“What the hell is happening?” I whispered under my breath, my chest tightening with a surge of dread.
The room darkened as the sky outside shifted from twilight into something far darker, more unnatural. The star in the sky, already fractured, flickered like a dying flame. Its brilliant light imploded inward, collapsing into a sickly purple mass, its glow casting everything in an eerie, otherworldly hue.
Cassie swore under her breath. “The Eye of Aryman…” she said, staring out another window. She seemed to lose her relaxed demeanor entirely. She looked… worried.
“We’re in it now, Hunters,” Chas said excitedly, glancing at Felix. “How much time?”
Felix didn’t look up, sweat dripping down his brow. “Not enough. The beacon is draining faster than I can stabilize it. It’s pulling too much from the mana surge!”
Suddenly, the ground outside shifted. The city, once stable, seemed to twist and warp, its structures contorting as if reality itself was folding in on itself. The soft, muted colors of the world outside turned into garish neon pastels, glowing brightly against the ever-deepening darkness. Shadows stretched, lengthened, and then snapped, as if the city were gasping its final breaths.
A deep growl rumbled in the distance, followed by a hiss. Then another. And another. My heart hammered in my chest as I peered through the cracked windows, wiping away more dust and grime. Through the haze, I saw them: hundreds of creatures, crawling, running—no, slithering—toward us. Their muted, slime-covered bodies were barely humanoid, more like grotesque versions of goblins. They moved with a ravenous hunger, their glowing purple eyes locked on the tavern.
Cassie cursed again. “Glids,” she muttered. “Feral, mana-hungry bastards. Just our luck they’d show up this early.”
Chas grunted, his eyes following mine toward the window. “Normally takes a lot longer for a spirit realm to spit those out. But just our luck, it was a stable collapse into a proper Void Star. We should be fine as long as we can get that portal open.” He turned toward me, his expression sharp. “What’s with the stick? Can you fight?”
I blinked, glancing down at Winchester. Fight? “I... I mean, I don’t really... I found it under the bar…”
I held out Winchester, the staff's polished surface gleaming in the eerie purple light. Chas’s eyes widened, a flicker of recognition passing across his weathered features. He reached out, his calloused hand hovering just above the smooth wood, as if afraid to touch it.
"May I?" he asked, his voice uncharacteristically soft given the situation.
I nodded, passing him the staff. Chas took it reverently, his fingers tracing the wood grains along its length. The staff hummed beneath his touch, responding to some unspoken connection. He turned it over in his hands, examining every inch with the care of a master craftsman.
When he reached the orange metallic ball set into the end, Chas inhaled sharply. The sphere seemed to ring like a tuning fork with a warm tone, as if awakening to his presence. He gently placed his palm against it for a moment, silencing the tone.
"I'll be damned," Chas muttered, a hint of awe creeping into his voice. He glanced at me, trying to mask the reverence in his eyes. He handed it back to me and gave me a sincere smile.
“Hit ’em with that end, kid. If those Glids get through, they’re gonna tear us apart looking for mana… and we’re sitting on a lot of it.”
I took it back and nodded, my heart racing, Winchester buzzing with an almost eager energy. I could feel it thrumming in my hands, alive in a way that no ordinary staff ever would be. Maybe this was more than just a walking stick.
Felix gritted his teeth, lightning crackling around his bracer as he channeled more power. “I’m holding it as long as I can!”
The growling outside grew louder. The Glids—hundreds, no, thousands of them—poured into the neon-lit streets, their slime-covered bodies glistening in the strange light as they rushed toward the tavern. Their hissing and growling blended into a deafening roar. And behind them, the city itself mutated, as pieces of the world dissolved into the void.
“Felix!” Cassie’s voice was sharp now, almost panicked. “We need that portal now!”
Felix was no longer calm. His usually steady hands trembled, the bracer sparking wildly as lightning crackled along his arm. “Just a few more seconds... come on, come on...”
The beacon’s light flickered, then pulsed, brighter than before. But it was small—so much smaller than it had been. The portal, barely a spark, hovered above it, struggling to stabilize.
Then the radiance rune providing light went out. It simply vanished, like a switch flipped, leaving the room dimly lit by the eerie purple glow outside. Felix’s face drained of color. The portal was shrinking. Fast.
The world outside exploded into chaos as the first wave of Glids reached the tavern. Their warped, elongated limbs slammed against the windows, leaving trails of luminescent slime. The glass trembled, then shattered with a deafening crash. Shards rained down, glittering like deadly stars in the eerie purple night.
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Cassie sprang into action, her movements fluid and precise. To my shock, she didn’t draw guns or any modern weapons. Instead, she unsheathed two small short swords from her hip. They were both quite short, maybe really just long daggers. But their edges caught my eye. A thin orange line ran up the edge of each blade—exactly like Winchester’s orb.
Cassie's blades flashed in the dim light, a lethal dance of steel and precision. As the first Glid breached the shattered window, she pivoted, her short sword slicing through the air. The creature let out an inhuman shriek as the blade connected, its gelatinous flesh parting like water. But instead of blood, a burst of orange energy erupted from the wound, sizzling and crackling as it dissipated into the air.
"Stay back!" she shouted, her voice sharp over the cacophony of breaking glass and alien howls.
Chas moved with surprising speed for his size, positioning himself between the oncoming horde and Felix. His fists clenched, and I watched in awe as they began to glow with a faint blue light. As a Glid lunged at him, Chas met it with a devastating uppercut.
The sound of the impact echoed like a thunderclap, causing the creature and a few others behind it—as well as some furniture—to burst into a shower of purple goo and shattered wood.
“Ben!" Felix called out, his voice strained. "I need more time!”
I gripped Winchester tighter, my knuckles white against the smooth wood. The staff thrummed in my hands, the metal orb seeming to ring with an eager energy. It was as if it was alive, responding to the chaos around us, urging me to act. The wood felt warm against my palms, almost vibrating with anticipation.
Suddenly, the door splintered with a sickening crack. Twisted, elongated limbs burst through, tearing at the wood like it was paper. Glids poured in, their bodies writhing and undulating in ways that defied natural movement. Their eyes, glowing an unnatural purple, fixed on us with predatory hunger.
Time seemed to slow. I could see every detail with startling clarity—the way their slimy skin glistened in the eerie light, the sharp angles of their misshapen jaws, the greedy reach of their clawed hands. The air itself felt thick, charged with tension and the acrid scent of ozone.
Without thinking, I swung Winchester. The staff cut through the air with a satisfying whoosh, and I felt a surge of electricity through my arms. The orange orb at the end blazed to life, trailing streaks of golden light as it arced toward the nearest Glid in the door. Winchester connected with the creature in a blinding flash of orange light. The impact resonated through my arms, a surge of raw power unlike anything I’d ever felt. For a split second, nothing happened. Then, with a deafening crack, an explosion of energy erupted from the point of impact. The Glid’s body contorted, twisting grotesquely as the orange energy rippled through it. Its eyes bulged, glowing brighter and brighter until they were miniature suns in its misshapen skull.
Suddenly, the creature burst apart in a spectacular spray of viscous purple gore and crackling orange energy. The directed force of the explosion sent the Glid’s remains hurtling backward, a gruesome projectile that collided with the oncoming horde. Half a torso, still writhing with residual energy, smashed into three more Glids with a resounding thud, knocking them off their feet in a tangle of limbs and ooze.
I staggered backward from the residual force. Of course it was a magical staff. Wait, I had a magical staff! I looked to the orb sunken into the wood at the top, almost as if the straight wood had simply grown around a tennis-ball-sized sphere. It was silent now, or rather much quieter in my hands.
More Glids poured through the splintered doorway, their twisted forms writhing and contorting as they squeezed through the narrow opening. The air grew thick with an acrid stench, a nauseating cocktail that burned the nostrils and stung the eyes.
Cassie danced between the creatures, her short swords flashing in deadly arcs. Orange energy crackled along the blades, leaving sizzling trails in the air as she struck. But even her fluid grace couldn’t keep every Glid at bay. A clawed hand raked across her arm, leaving a trail of purple slime and torn fabric. She hissed in pain but didn’t falter, spinning to decapitate her attacker in a shower of viscous gore.
I barely had time to react as a Glid lunged at me. I brought the staff up instinctively, the creature’s snapping jaws catching on the polished wood. Its teeth scraped against the shaft with a sound that set my nerves on edge—like nails on a chalkboard—but the staff held firm, showing no sign of damage. The Glid’s weight was overwhelming, driving me back as my feet slid on the slime-slicked floor.
I stumbled, trying to maintain balance, but the creature pushed harder, its slimy, feral form thrashing wildly. Chas’s roar cut through the chaos. His fists glowed with an intense energy, each punch radiating a shockwave that turned groups of Glids into splatters of purple goo. But for every one he took down, more seemed to flood into the tavern, their glowing eyes fixed on the center of the room.
“Felix!” Cassie’s voice was sharp, strained as she fended off multiple Glids at once. Her twin swords flashed in rapid arcs, but she was struggling, her movements slowing under the relentless assault. “We’re running out of time!”
Felix gritted his teeth, pouring more power into the beacon. Sweat poured down his face, and the portal’s tiny spark flickered desperately, trying to stabilize. It grew, but it was still far too small for an escape.
“I’m trying!” Felix shouted, his voice tight with frustration. “It’s fighting me every step of the way… Wait, No! No no no no, where’s all the mana going?”
I could feel it too, like all the air was being sucked out of the room toward—
Suddenly, Chas was beside Felix, his hand on his shoulder. The air rippled with heatwaves around him like an unseen flame roaring within him. "I have to borrow it for a minute," he said, his voice unnaturally calm amidst the chaos.
Felix’s eyes widened in understanding, a mix of fear and awe crossing his face. He nodded, releasing his grip on the beacon. The moment Chas’s hand touched it, the air around him ignited with invisible fire. The heatwaves intensified, distorting the very fabric of reality around him. His eyes began to glow with an inner light, like molten gold pouring from his sockets.
The beacon responded to Chas’s touch, its faint glow suddenly erupting into a brilliant, blinding radiance. The runes etched along its surface came alive, pulsing with an otherworldly energy that seemed to resonate with the very core of existence. The inn groaned in protest as the portal began to open, pulling everything in its vicinity toward it.
The walls of the tavern buckled under the pressure, creaking and groaning as the portal tore at them. Wooden beams splintered and cracked, the floorboards beneath our feet rippling like water as chunks of debris were ripped from the building and sucked toward the growing tear in space. The windows exploded inward, sending shards of glass whirling through the air like deadly projectiles.
A massive gust of wind erupted from the portal as it expanded, throwing the Glids into chaos. The first wave of creatures was caught in the vortex, their slime-covered bodies dragged helplessly toward the portal. They howled and shrieked, their twisted limbs flailing as they were pulled into the swirling void. Purple slime streaked across the floor, plastering the walls as the Glids were torn apart by the sheer force of the portal’s pull.
The tavern itself was being dismantled, plank by plank, as the portal grew. Furniture was ripped from the floor, chairs and tables crashing together in a cacophony of destruction before being swallowed by the shimmering tear in reality.
Chas’s body tensed, muscles rippling beneath his skin as he channeled an impossible amount of energy. Complex runes blazed into life along his arms as if they were veins, and I heard him roar with defiance as he reached up and grabbed the edges of the portal with his bare hands. A shockwave rippled through reality itself as he physically tore the portal open, shattering what remained of the tavern and vaporizing the nearest Glids in a spectacular burst of golden light.
I was thrown off my feet, Winchester clattering to the floor beside me. As I struggled to my knees, gasping for breath in the suddenly superheated air, I saw Chas.
He stood at the epicenter of the destruction, a figure of raw, primal power. Golden energy radiated from his body in pulsing waves, each one distorting the air around him like a mirage. His skin seemed to crack and splinter, revealing molten light beneath, as if he had become a living conduit for some cosmic force. Wisps of golden smoke curled from his arms, his shoulders, even his eyes, which now blazed with the intensity of twin suns.
Before him hovered a shimmering disc of pure energy, its edges wavering and flickering like a mirage. Through it, I caught glimpses—flashes of verdant green and crystal blue that stood in stark contrast to the nightmare surrounding us. Chas’s hands were outstretched, palms facing the portal, fingers splayed wide as if he alone was responsible for holding it open.
I scrambled to my feet, snatching Winchester from the gore-slicked floor. The staff pulsed in my grip, its orange orb humming again. Cassie was there in an instant, her blades dripping with viscous purple fluid as she grabbed my arm.
"Move!" she shouted, her voice barely audible over the cacophony of destruction.
We sprinted toward the portal, dodging debris and writhing Glid corpses. The air itself seemed to resist our passage, thick and heavy with ozone and the acrid stench of otherworldly decay. Felix was right behind us, his bracer barking lightning at a horde of Glids that pushed past the corpses of their brethren.
As we approached, the portal’s energy intensified. The shimmering disc stretched and warped, its edges rippling like liquid mercury. Through its wavering surface, I caught tantalizing glimpses of another world—flashes of emerald canopies, azure skies, and towering spires that seemed to defy gravity.
Chas stood before it, a living conduit of cosmic power. His body was a map of blazing runes, golden light dripping from him like molten metal. I met his blazing eyes and instantly felt like I was seeing a massive version of him staring into my soul, filling it with concepts. My mind was drowned in images of impenetrable fields of diamond exploding with violent force due to a tiny imperfection, a fat man getting hit by a cannonball in the stomach thousands of times without relenting.
My mind spun—these recognizable concepts were screaming themselves at me through Chas.
You will not break me.
Chas was literally embodying Courage. Pure and true, screaming at the universe to defy him. Magic. Real, universe-bending willpower. I saw the rune for Courage in Chas’s eyes. But, it was familiar. It was that feeling you get when you read a good fantasy novel, watched a superhero movie, hell—even asked someone out for the first time. I recognized it like an old friend.
And then Chas grinned, fierce and wild, and without warning, he kicked me into the portal. It hurt.