124. Collapse

Lights flashed. Metal clanged. Piercing yells and hollers crashed around the buildings like a tidal wave, the ensuing roar deafening.

Isaac saw eyes gleam with manic glee as people realized there were no longer any limitations on their powers. He saw sparks rise and felt the ground shake as they learned there were no more restrictions on violence.

A twitching body fell to the ground across the street, stomach gouged open. Old grudges and resentments resurfaced with a fresh, raw hatred. Anger and every negative emotion held back by the system burst forth, given a new voice. Freely let go.

Another body fell. Isaac heard a scream somewhere, the crowd pushing and pulling as some pressed forwards and others attempted to flee in the other direction. He watched the ground split under someone’s magic, stared at shattered glass as windows were smashed and broken.

He watched as, before his eyes, the thin veil draped across his image of the Underside was torn to pieces.

The crackle of thunder jerked Isaac out of his trance. He spun around, eyes widening as a bolt of electricity shot in his direction.

Fable shoved him back at the last second, removing a glove in one smooth motion and snapping their fingers. A shield of golden light blinked into existence, repelling the wave of magic. The other Traveler turned, red scarf whipping wildly in the wind. Backlit by gold, the cloth looked like it was ablaze.

“You need to go to the subway station,” they said.

Isaac pulled himself back up to his feet. He felt warm blood trickling down his palms where shards from the tablet had cut into his skin, but he ignored the sting.

“Fable,” he grounded out. “Is Lilith—“ his voice caught, but he forced himself to press on. “Is Lilith dead?”

An explosion sounded from a few blocks away, but Fable didn’t move. Isaac could feel the rumble of the impact running down the street. Finally, the other Traveler responded.

“No.” They paused, eyes still unreadable. “She’s away right now, but she’s alive.”

A wave of relief crashed over Isaac at that. He’d thought for sure she was dead.

Another explosion rang out, closer this time, and Isaac gripped the building wall to steady himself.

“Where is she?” His voice came out in a rush, adrenaline running through his veins. Fable spun around, snapping their fingers again and sending another attack rocketing away from them.

“She’ll be back in the Golden Lands by now, I’d wager.”

Isaac’s brows furrowed. “What? I already—“

“Isaac,” Fable cut the other Traveler off. “Remember what I said about going to the station.” The shield of golden light behind them flickered, and their eyes narrowed. They clicked their tongue. “I’m out of time.”

“Wait! Where’re you going?”

Fable grinned, and for a second, beneath those sunglasses, the Traveler’s eyes looked bright gold.

“Gonna miss me?” They cocked their head, studying Isaac closely. “If—no.” Their voice paused in consideration. “No, knowing you, it’ll be a ‘when.’” Fable smiled, sharp and wide. “I look forward to our next meeting.”

And with another snap of their fingers, the Traveler burst into a swirling mass of golden lights that rose upwards, scattering into the red sky.

Isaac didn’t have time to think about what their words meant, because in the next instance the ground beneath him split open. He leapt, barely jumping out of the way of the newly formed fissure, and landed hard on the concrete.

Isaac cursed and forced himself back up, eyes darting about wildly and identifying one human bent over with a hand pressed against the ground. They met eyes, and Isaac jumped up and sprinted just as another wave raced towards him.

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He bolted down the streets, legs pounding over the hard ground as he wove around clashing fights, leaping over fallen lampposts and ducking under collapsing buildings. Everywhere he looked was chaos, the realm nearly unrecognizable in the mayhem. His head rang, breaths coming in heavy pants as he pressed onwards.

Where were Igor and Rosalinde and Mortimer? Were they okay? His mind raced, fear and worry rising in a stormy frenzy.

A jet of flame whizzed past his cheek, and Isaac rolled across the ground, skidding over hard cement. His arms felt raw, but he could see the station in the corner of his eye, caught behind clashing weapons and flashes of magic.

And then, a piercing screech shook the city. Spinning around, Isaac’s eyes widened as a massive silhouette landed atop one of the buildings, claws crushing cement. Outstretched, leathery wings casted a long shadow over the streets. The dragon peered down at the humans below with bright green eyes before it drew its head back and released another roar.

The realms were colliding without Lilith to stabilize their connections, Isaac realized. The Underside was entering all out war.

A rush of wind sounded just above him. Jerking up, Isaac barely dodged a blade aimed straight at where his head was. He jumped away, stumbling back to his feet, but the assailant didn’t stop. Sword gleaming, clothes already drenched in dirt and blood, Isaac didn’t recognize the person. But like that, hunched over and eyes frenzied, swinging wildly against the red sky, he didn’t think he could’ve recognized them even if he’d known them beforehand.

Isaac jerked away as a second arcing swing narrowly missed him, a few strands of his hair sliced clean off. He gritted his teeth, desperately trying to find something to use for cover. He was an ordinary human; in the open like this, he wouldn’t be able to keep dodging forever.

His eyes focused in on a broken door just a few feet away. It would have to do for now.

Isaac ran for it, moving in a zigzag pattern to try and throw his attacker off. He stretched a hand out, reaching for the broken wood, but just before he touched it, something slammed into his side.

The Traveler was sent sprawling across the ground, ears ringing and vision blurred. “Damnit!” Isaac hissed. He tried to get back up, but the shock from the blow was still lingering in his system, rendering his limbs slow and clumsy.

In the corner of his eye, he saw the sword coming straight at him, and Isaac squeezed his eyes shut, preparing for pain.

A squelching sound rang out. Warm blood trickled down his face.

Slowly, Isaac opened his eyes again. Above him, sword still raised, his assailant coughed, spitting out more of that dark liquid. Through his chest, a matte, smooth white bone had pierced straight through his body.

The man collapsed, and Isaac barely got out of the way in time to avoid being crushed. His own breaths were rough and uneven, and when he looked up, he saw Mortimer, a hand outstretched, white bone retracting back into his palm.

The half-undead raced forward, eyes more wild and panicked than Isaac had ever seen before.

“Why are you still here? You need to go.”

He grabbed Isaac, pulling him up and dragging him towards the station and down the stairs.

Around them, the fights continued. Isaac was distantly aware of the growing number of limp bodies piling on the streets, the viscous liquid pooling across the ground, the distant crackling of dragonfire. The smell of iron that he now remembered so well.

“You need to leave. The Underside’s not safe anymore,” Mortimer was saying, breathless and arms shaking even as he firmly pulled Isaac toward the platform. “Go back to the surface. Go far away.”

The sound of rumbling echoed from deeper within the tunnels. The train was approaching.

Isaac gritted his teeth, spinning around to face the half undead man. “What about you? I can’t just leave you here!”

“I’ll be fine, I promise.”

Curling white bones shot out from Mortimer’s back, intercepting a clanging spiked chain whipping towards them. The man jerked his head to the side, and one of the bones shot out, extending and slicing the assailant’s hand clean off.

Isaac heard the subway doors slide open, but he was too preoccupied, eyes darting around the quickly filling station. There were too many people there, too many more flooding in. Mortimer wouldn’t be able to handle all of them by himself.

“I’m not—“

Before he could finish his sentence, Mortimer turned and threw him into the subway car. Isaac’s back hit the opposite end with a thump. He hurried to his feet, but the doors were already closing as he rushed forward. Isaac pounded his fist against them, beating against metal and glass, but they held firm. Through the window, Mortimer was staring at him.

“Go!” the half undead yelled, voice muffled by the train and caught in the crowd’s roar. “Don’t come back!”

The train lurched, chugging forward even as Isaac continued beating the door, desperately trying to force them open.

Despite his yells, despite the throbbing pain in his clenched fists, the subway raced away from the silver line station.

Soon the platform and Mortimer were nothing more than distant blurs, completely unrecognizable as the train left Solonell City behind.