Luna was waiting for Milly when the system backdoor deposited her upside down in the storage closet adjacent to the Monitoring Room. A squeal of delight erupted from the child at the appearance of her only friend.
The AI Director had grown in the week since Milly had last visited. Luna looked just shy of six years old, and she now wore a black butterfly print skirt and a long-sleeved top with an anime-style rendition of Passiflora cuddling with Anchovy and Cerberus on the front. Milly’s black hoodie was tied around her waist, its sleeves dangling down to her ankles. Her white hair, grown to the small of her back, was tied neatly together in a single ponytail and pulled through the back of a blue ballcap with the words “I’m the boss. Do what I say!”.
“Milly!” shouted Luna excitedly. Milly had hardly turned herself upright when the child threw her arms around Milly’s neck in a tight hug.
“Oof. Hey Luna,” Milly smiled as she returned the hug. “You’ve grown again.”
“It’s all the players’ fault,” complained Luna. “The more you advance in the contest, the older I get. When you won your Arena and the others won the Arena of Domination, I aged a year overnight. It’s weird to wake up and suddenly need to materialize a new wardrobe.”
“At least you can do that,” laughed Milly. “Try wearing the same hoodie and gown for weeks on end. I don’t know how Cally puts up with me.”
“At least you figured out how to use your water magic to shower,” Luna giggled.
She hesitated, a thought bubbling to the surface, and then burst out. “I really like Passi, Milly.”
“I gathered that from your shirt,” Milly laughed, pointing to the picture on her shirt. “I like her too. You’ll be the same age as Passi pretty soon. I bet you would be friends, though… I guess that’s not possible.”
Luna’s face fell, as if the thought hadn’t occurred to her. She unwrapped her arms from around Milly’s neck and stepped back.
Can Luna leave this place? Or is she tethered to these screens? Given her reaction, it’s the latter. Poor girl. How lonely would she have been if I hadn’t stumbled into this place?
“Umm… your trial is starting. Do you want to watch?” Luna asked uncertainly.
“Well, I came here to see you,” Milly answered, and Luna beamed brightly. “We could watch if you want, or we could just talk or play?”
Luna nodded enthusiastically and moved to the closet door. She peered back at Milly over her shoulder. “Passi is lucky to have you as a mom,” she said, a note of longing in her voice. She cracked the door open, and they peeked through.
The Monitoring Room had grown even larger, with over ten thousand monitors and twenty Tutorias darting across the warehouse-sized complex. The panels were spread along the wall and in a dozen rows between. It resembled a military control room in the midst of a war.
She recognized a few the feeds broadcasting into the complex. The fairies’ mass graveyard. Her meadow. The orchard where she had rescued the fairies. The shadow dragon asleep in its mountain home. An entire wall was dedicated to the Castle of Glass. Yet for every feed she recognized, there were a thousand that showed undiscovered wonders across the world.
One monitor showed Nobori as he decorated a small cave on the outskirts of the Inlet of New Beginnings. He placed a wooden carving on a rocky shelf, which distinctly resembled a certain Witch of the Castle of Glass.
“God damn it, Nobori,” Milly muttered. “I told you to knock off that goddess shit. This is the opposite of knocking it off.”
“He’s not the only worshipper,” Luna whispered with a little chuckle. “He’s found himself another half dozen followers.”
Milly groaned.
I’ll have to deal with that tomorrow. That's the last thing I need right now.
The Tutorias that scuttled between monitors wore the same black dress pants, white collared shirt, and black bowtie as before, but instead of individualized characteristics like the first eight Tutoria’s had, all the subsequently added Tutorias simply had a nametag with a five-digit employee number.
Milly glanced at the nearest Tutoria. “Tutoria #00788. Hey, wasn’t that the Tutoria I was assigned when the Contest started?”
“You mean the one you didn’t bother to learn from?” Luna teased. “Yes, that’s her. She was redeployed after you completed the first phase of the God Contest. For now, she’s a monitor, until she is needed elsewhere. There are thousands upon thousands of Tutorias out there, each responsible for various aspects of the contest. They are supposed to be my helpers, but, you know…”
Luna pointed to the slogan on her hat.
“But sometimes employes have a mind of their own,” Milly finished, thinking about the Freelancers breaking away from the CEOs’ control. “We certainly do.”
“Yah, it’s getting harder to control them,” Luna admitted. “They grow more independent each time another Tutoria is added. That’s what happened with the prize Tutoria. I didn’t tell her to enter Rain and Xavier’s dreams. She just really, really didn’t like you dropping her in a lake, and she took matters into her own hands. I don’t know why she was so upset. I thought it was funny.”
Milly knew Luna didn’t directly control the Tutorias.
Perhaps that’s because Oracle didn’t create them. Cizen did, as a last-minute addition, supposedly to help Luna function. But this was the god who built this game’s secrets. What if the Tutorias decide to stop listening to Luna?
“I don’t want them to know you are here. I’ll create a distraction, and you head to my room,” Luna said as she ducked out of the closet.
Milly considered the child as she waited for the distraction. The Luna she had visited a week ago had felt like two separate personalities – the powerful AI Director and the emotional four-year-old. This six-year-old version of Luna seemed to be a merger of the two. She was still a child, but a remarkable capable one. Luna had started to come to terms with herself and her role in life. Though Milly could still sense the loneliness hidden beneath the brave face the child wore.
“Quite down, you lot!” shouted Luna from the monitoring room, her high-pitched voice carrying across the warehouse of screens. “Gather around me. Yes, over here. #00545, put that down and get over here. I have something important to say.”
Milly snuck out the storage room door and stayed low as she crept towards Luna’s control room. The Tutorias were gathered around Luna in the middle of the warehouse and were none the wiser of the intruder in their midst, though Milly nearly blew her cover with a fit of laugher when Luna’s ‘important announcement’ turned out to be an offkey version of I’m a Little Teapot.
Still a little girl at heart. I hope you stay that way, Luna.
Milly ducked into Luna’s room, and a few minutes later, Luna and Milly were snuggled up on Luna’s tiny bed, Milly’s hoodie draped over Luna’s legs like a blanket. The trial was broadcast on Luna’s twelve control monitors as Milly brushed Luna’s white hair.
Edna Carthage had just told the story of three innocent and helpless women who were brutally assaulted by an unhinged witch. A witch that could chill your bones and shoot lightning from her eyes.
“She makes you sound pretty bad ass,” Luna said as Edna stepped off stage and her sister Cynthia took her place in the witness chair.
“Don’t say ass, Luna,” Milly said reflexively.
Luna huffed. “You swear all the time. I can see and hear you all the time, you know. I mean, you’ve sworn twice since you arrived here four minutes ago.
“Yah, but…,” Milly protested weakly. “Kids shouldn’t swear.”
What do you even say to that? She can see everything, and she’s not exactly a kid.
They watched Cynthia launch into the same falsehoods that Edna had told. Luna rolled her eyes.
‘What?” Milly asked. “They are sisters. They were always going to tell the same lies.”
“It’s not that. It’s just… it’s always the same with you humans,” Luna stated, immensely frustrated. “I’ve got knowledge of all twelve of your failed God Contests in my head. Do you know the common thread connecting all of them? In every single one, you turn on each other. You spend more time vying for power and killing one another, and you forget there’s a world out there that is meant to test you.”
Luna pointed towards three of her monitors, and their screens changed to video from previous God Contests.
“In the second, you created a religion when you sacrificed other players in a volcano. The sixth contest descended into anarchy and sadistic torture after the players rose up and murdered all their leaders. And in the twelfth, an entire city split into factions and went to war with each other. Twelve contents. Twelve failures. And not a single player made it even halfway through.”
“Not… not even halfway?” whispered Milly, astonished. “But… but the twelfth lasted four years”
“Yes, and they spent most of those four years fighting each other,” Luna confirmed with a disappointed sigh. “The contest picked off the few survivors one-by-one. They didn’t have the strength needed to make it through the trials. You humans are too… well, self-centered. Too reluctant to set aside your squabbles and work together to survive.”
“That… Luna, there are some people you just can’t trust,” Milly explained.
Luna shrugged, as if trust were inconsequential. “I’m just saying that your capacity to hate one another eclipses any of the species that came before you. It borders on madness. Most species work together. You don’t.”
Luna flicked her finger, and the three monitors returned to the trial. “The most successful species are the ones joined by a hive mind. Perfect cooperation and absolute order. Of course, the hive mind victors don’t do so well afterwards…” she muttered, trailing off.
Milly didn’t want to know any more. They sat in awkward silence as Cynthia spewed her lies to the crowd, though Milly found she couldn’t focus.
Four years? Four years, and an entire city of players, and they didn’t even make it halfway. It’s only been three weeks, and we’ve already lost a hundred and fifty people. How are we supposed to survive this?
Against the backdrop of lies and accusations that broadcast on the screens, successful completion of the God Contest felt impossible.
The CEOs. The Arenas. Monsters, traps, and gods know what else is out there, designed to kill us one-by-one. On top of all that, these system bugs Luna wants me to track down are threatening the very fabric of the contest itself. It’s impossible. Just impossible.
Luna materialized a bowl of popcorn and began munching on it as she watched the trial. Elmer was cross-examining Cynthia, whose face had turned beat red as Elmer tore apart her story piece by piece. Luna giggled in amusement, and a few kernels of popcorn spilled out of the bowl and onto her bed as she rocked excitedly in place.
“Sweetheart, be careful. You’ll get crumbs on your bed,” Milly said without thinking, as she plucked the kernels and popped them into her mouth. Milly’s mouth watered at the buttery taste. It’d been weeks since she’d had anything outside of boar, fruit, goose, and fish. She felt a sudden longing for home, until she reminded herself that her meals there weren’t much better. “Please tell me we can find corn somewhere in the wilds.”
“Probably,” Luna replied chipperly, offering Milly the bowl. Milly grabbed a handful of popcorn and shoved it in her mouth, savoring the taste. “Now be quiet. I want to watch this part.”
Elmer had finished with Cynthia Carthage, who stared daggers at the lawyer as she trundled off the stage.
Jacob Stone, CEO of Acicentre, took her place.
* * *
“You must understand, my friends,” Jacob Stone began. His words were directed to the gathered crowd, not to Elmer and the judges. “Ms. Brown, the so-called Witch of the Castle of Glass, is dangerous. Not only to her latest three victims, but to every single one of you who are trying to survive.”
Stone’s voice projected over the crowd, magically magnified.
“How many have died as a result of her reckless actions? When she found the Arena of Choice, did she bring that information back to us? No. It never even crossed her mind. She and her friends decided – on their own – to fight it. The first time they tried, her girlfriend nearly died. Did that deter her? No. She went back for more, and she force us – all of us – into phase two of this damned God Contest. The appearance of the Event Timer? That was all her. She took a dire situation and made it astronomically worse.”
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“Bullshit!” shouted Calista, though her words were drowned out by a growing ire gathered masses.
Stone rose from the witness chair and stood at the edge of the stage to face the crowd.
“Ms. Brown and her Freelancer friends like to blame the CEOS for the deaths at the Battle of Tower Beach,” Stone deflected as he riled up the crowd. “She says we locked them out of the Castle. I’ll admit that we locked the doors. We did it to protect you. We did it to keep the monsters out. Do you remember how scared you all were that day? Most of you were level one. Those goblins and ogres would have slaughtered you all. Ever. Last. One of you.”
Stone suddenly whirled and pointed to an empty chair on the stage – the one reserved for the accused. “No, we CEOs didn’t cause that tragedy. The fault lies at the feet of the Witch of the Castle of Glass! She completed the Arena. She activated the Event Timer. She got those people killed. The best week we’ve ever had in this contest was the week she and her friends were in the wild. Sure, we lost some people, but it was on our terms, not hers.”
Stone released an exasperated sigh, which carried across the entire crowd. “When she returned to the Castle last week, our orderly little world collapsed. She brought monsters into our midst. She flouted the truce we had built with the Freelancers and Farmers. And she accosted three innocent women. People, like you, who were just doing their job. Which one of you will be next? Which one of you will find yourselves face-to-face against the Witch of the Castle of Glass when she decides you looked at her the wrong way. If we don’t stop her here, today, we’ll find out the answer to that question soon enough. Because she is unstable. Unpredictable. And she is not one of us.”
Jacob Stone ended with a flourish, and a group of CEO-aligned players, led by Edna and Cynthia, hollered their support. Calista, her face red with barely contained anger, fought the urge to pull out her spear and hurl it through the CEO’s face.
Rain rested a calming hand on Calista’s arm. “Let Elmer do his job,” she advised, as the leader of the Freelancers got to his feet.
Stone sat down in the witness chair and leveled a challenging grin at the man.
Elmer was patient. He let the cheers die down before he began. Like Stone, he ignored the court and the CEO seated in the witness chair, and he addressed the audience directly. A slight scowl broke through Stone’s salesman grin as he realized Elmer was about to play him at his own game.
“This trial…” Elmer began slowly, letting each word sink into the minds of the crowd. “… is nothing more than a modern-day witch hunt. Its purpose is not to seek truth behind accusations, but to undermine those who would dare deny the dictatorship of the CEOs. This trial attempts to instill panic and fear within you, so that you bind yourselves closer to the authorities that wish to claim you as their own.”
While Elmer’s own sigh wasn’t magically amplified like Stone’s, his body language spoke louder than Stone’s magic every could. “It’s an old game, isn’t it? Perhaps the oldest game of those who seek power. The game of fear. Fear is a powerful emotion for the wannabe dictator. It strips you of your senses. It asks you to doubt what you see with your own eyes. It makes you all too eager to give up your freedom for a modicum of safety, even if that safety is but an illusion created by those who would bind you.”
Elmer raised his voice, growing more dynamic. “A witch trial. It’s a centuries old manifestation of this desperate play for power. Take an innocent woman and make her the community’s object of hatred and fear. Rile up the masses against her. Let the populous escalate to the brink of madness and bring them to the very edge of collapse. Then swoop in, the great savior, and burn the witch alive. Problem solved. And as she burns, those normally sensible people cheer for her scorched flesh and give up power to the very person that caused the panic. He turns their hearts cold, because cold hearts are easy to control.”
“There is a flaw in your monologue, Elmer,” shouted Stone, interrupting Elmer’s speech. “Ms. Brown is, in fact, a witch. It was not the CEOs that named her The Witch of the Castle of Glass, after all.”
Elmer spun towards Stone, his voice filled with sarcasm and mocking. “Oh, I’m sorry Jacob. I didn’t realize being a witch was illegal in your new world order. Perhaps we should recall our last two witnesses to ask them about it. Which one would you like to question first? The one that can control shadows, or the one that creates monsters from the very earth itself?”
An unexpected laughter broke across the crowd, which cracked through the tension that Stone had built during his speech. Calista scanned the crowd and saw Edna and Cynthia weaving to the back of the crowd, suddenly reluctant to be the center of attention.
Elmer resumed addressing the crowd. “They are right to laugh, Stone. We’ve found ourselves in a magical world, where anyone can become a witch. We are healed by magic. Defended by magic. Our orchards are fed by magic.”
Elmer glanced back at Lucy, who nodded enthusiastically.
“What’s wrong with being a witch? To demonize one innocent woman because she’s a witch is utter madness,” Elmer said, driving the point home. “Do not let these wannabe dictators control you. You know what they are trying to do. You can feel it in your bones.”
He turned sharply towards the judges. “Milly didn’t accost Edna, Cynthia, and Hana. She saved a little fairy girl from their torment. A young child that was trying to learn magic herself, so she could heal her people, and so she could heal you. If you deny your own senses and let the CEOs use her for their own gain, you do a great disservice to this woman – our Witch of the Castle of Glass – who is giving her all to help us survive!”
Elmer dropped his voice low, but it still managed to carry to the ears of every person gathered on the beach.
“It is time for the madness to end. It is time for you to start thinking for yourselves. Now is the time to come together. To get through this as one, so we can survive. So we can all go home.”
Elmer finished, and the Freelancers and Farmers in the crowd cheered. Calista glanced over the crowd and was heartened to see others subtly clapping or talking amongst themselves with weary eyes on the Carthage twins and on Stone and Brass.
Elmer dismissed Stone from the witness stand. He had done his damage, and he wanted Stone to have no more airtime before the crowd.
They moved on to the next witness.
* * *
Their bowl of popcorn was empty, and Luna leaned into Milly as Milly gently rubbed the child’s back. They both stared wide-eyed at the screen as the crowd’s cheers finally faded and the trial continued.
“He’s really good,” whispered Luna, the image on her shirt now showing an artistic depiction of Elmer addressing the crowd, a cartoonishly villainous Stone in the background, twirling a handlebar moustache.
“Yah…,” Milly whispered appreciatively. “He is. We’re lucky to have him leading the Freelancers.”
“Maybe your species isn’t so hopeless, if there are people like you and him to help guide your way. And to keep your species’ stupidity in check,” Luna said, sounding very much like the AI Director instead of the child.
Milly had been filled with anxiousness and dread during Stone’s speech, but Elmer had crushed those feelings with his heart-felt words.
For a brief moment in time, Milly’s soul was full of hope. Hope that, after so many years alone, she might finally be accepted for who she was.
It’s time for the madness to end. I like the sound of that.
* * *
“It’s beautiful, is it not, Cizen?” the High Lord praised as He gazed at the Nexus. His mind was deep into the madness, its blackness clouding His vision. It was the same madness that now snaked its way slowly across the Nexus. Veins of disease inching their way across the beacon of creation.
Cizen did not respond to his High Lord’s question. There was no point.
“I used to think it ugly, this darkness that consumes us all,” the High Lord continued, his voice filled with admiration. “But I see it now. The splendor in its simplicity. You should experience it yourself Cizen. You may be the last amongst us who has not felt its poisonous touch.”
Cizen rolled up the sleeve of his cloak and showed the High Lord the pulsing veins of madness that had started snaking their way up his shriveled arm – the earliest symptoms of the madness.
“Ah, yes. That’s good. You will join us. We are at the end of our time, Cizen. In a few, infinitely short years, the last of the Gods shall die, and the Nexus will follow thereafter.”
“The thirteenth…” reminded Cizen, only to be interrupted by the irrational anger of the High Lord.
“The thirteenth God Contest is all but lost, God of Death! Oracle and Hephaestus doomed it from the start when they created that artificial intelligence. It was an affront to the Nexus. It was an affront to me. So I cast them into their own creation, forced to watch their final effort crumble around them.”
Cizen grit his skeletal teeth as he fought his intense hatred of the High Lord. It was a hatred that had stewed inside him since his first cycle. The carrion creatures around his feet scampered away as they sensed his growing agitation.
“It isn’t time yet,” Cizen told himself. “You must be patient. He will be the last. After what happened to Syune, he will see it all crumble around him. It is what he deserves.”
They watched the Nexus in silence, until another thin tendril of madness inched its way across the sphere of the Nexus. The halls of God Home rumbled, and if the Nexus had a voice, it would be screaming in agony.
“That was a big one,” the High Lord said in awe, as he leaned forward until his nose nearly touched the sphere. “Larger than at the Arena of Protection. We must go watch its chaos.”
“You go ahead, High Lord,” urged Cizen. “I have… other business to attend to.”
“You’re no fun, Cizen,” the High Lord said absentmindedly as he abruptly abandoned the Nexus and wandered out of the workshop, headed for his throne room and the great viewing sphere.
Cizen watched the Nexus for a few more moments after the High Lord left, until the madness that creeped along its surface had finished its expansion.
“My apologies, creator,” Cizen said sincerely to the Nexus. “The madness wasn’t designed for you. It was for them. Yet here you are, dying alongside your creations. I suppose there is a poetry to that, though even I, who lives within death, does not see its beauty.”
With that, Cizen retreated towards his private chambers.
To his own backdoor into the thirteenth, and his life raft that lay beyond.
* * *
Luna’s control room rumbled violently, as if struck by a sudden earthquake. A collection of dirty plates tumbled to the floor, and her chair fell over. Above, the lights swung furiously on industrial chains, casting fluctuating shadows across her sanctuary.
Luna clung to Milly tightly in fear. Milly lifted Luna into her arms and rushed them beneath Luna’s console for protection.
Six of Luna’s monitors crashed to the ground at their feet and shattered into shards of glass, joining the thousands that cascaded off the walls of the Monitoring Room. Twenty Tutorias abruptly screamed in a unified, haunting song of agony as the screens fell. Luna covered her ears with her hands and added her own high-pitched screams to theirs.
Milly, alarmed, pulled the child against her chest, held her head, and challenged healer’s touch. She didn’t know if it would work on an AI lifeform, but it was all she could think of. She could sense Luna’s panic, but there was nothing she could do. This was Luna’s domain, and she was only a guest.
A minute later, the rumble ceased, and the Tutoria’s stopped their screams. Luna collapsed against Milly’s chest, her breath rapid and shallow, as if she had been tortured.
“No. No. No. No!” Luna shouted, as she pushed away from Milly and scrambled from beneath the console. Her eyes briefly glanced at the shattered screens, and then scanned those on the wall that still functioned. She was searching their broadcasts for something important.
“What was hell was that, Luna?” Milly asked urgently, the trial forgotten. “You get earthquakes in here?”
“It’s…,” Luna hesitated for a moment, calculating what she could tell Milly without jeopardizing the integrity of the contest. “This is what happened at the Arena of Protection when the challenge was corrupted. The darkness. The errors. Only this time, the earthquake was much more powerful. I need to find out what changed…”
Luna darted out of her chambers and into the Monitoring Room, where the Tutorias lay scattered across the room. A couple had risen to their feet and started to repair the monitors when the child burst forth.
“Where is it? Where is it?” Luna chanted, growing more frantic by the moment.
Milly didn’t think. She darted out of Luna’s control room and headed for the scared child. She did not register the urgent whispers of the Tutorias as they spotted the player in their midst.
“Luna, what can I do? How can I help?” Milly asked.
“I need to find…,” Luna started, until she found what she was looking for. She stared up at a small, undamaged screen tucked away in the upper corner of a section of monitors. “No… not that one. Please, not that one…”
Milly glanced at the monitor. Her heart dropped, and a deep fear crushed the breath from her lungs. “Oh… shit…”
She had seen the creature on the broadcast before. It was the Dragon of Endless Shadows – the unique beast that had flown over Milly, Calista, and Rain on their first night outside the Castle of Glass. Milly remembered Calista’s intense fear and desperation as Luna’s crescent moon pendant had warned them of its approach.
“Put out the fire! For the love of God, put out the fire!” I still remember Cally’s absolute panic. I’ve never seen her that scared. Then we heard its primal roar – the roar that silenced the wind and caused the ground to quake. Its shadowy wings and scales eclipsed us in darkness as it consumed the light of the world.
Unbidden, the creature’s description popped up on a player screen. It was the same description Calista had shown them after the beast had finally flown over the horizon.
Unique Beast, The Dragon of Endless Shadows
Fear the light, for it shall attract the darkness.
The Dragon of Endless Shadows circles the world at night, devouring any light it comes across. Immensely powerful, Endless Shadows commands darkness itself. It wields powerfully dark magics and can create armies of shadow creatures that do its bidding. During the day, it rests deep underground in the mountains.
The Dragon of Endless Shadows is one of the four harbingers of the Cataclysm Phase of The God Contest.
Weaknesses: None yet identified
Recommended Player Level: 250
The monitor that broadcast the Dragon of Endless Shadows beneath its mountain once had a message along the bottom that said ‘Foreshadow-mode – Active at Cataclysm’.
The message had changed.
#error# Dragon of Endless Shadows #error# activation sequence #error# initiated. Teleportation imminent. WARNING: Player levels too low. #error# Overridden. #Phase IV Challenge #error# now active.
Luna, Milly, and all twenty Tutorias, watched the broadcast in absolute horror as a rift opened up beneath the Dragon of Endless Shadows, swallowing the creature whole. Its roar of outrage reverberated across the Monitoring Room.
“Figure out where it’s going and send me the feed!” Luna shouted desperately to the Tutorias. They gave one last glance at Milly before rushing to their stations.
“Luna…,” Milly said softly, her heart so constricted that she could hardly breath. She pointed towards the wall of monitors tuned to the Castle of Glass.
In the sky high above the trial – high above the hundreds of gathered players – a rift had formed, and darkness began to leak through.
The same darkness that had settled upon the Arena of Protection.
The same darkness as the madness.
* * *
Minerva was halfway through her testimony, telling the story of the Witch of the Castle of Glass helping her and her friends survive, when the sky above the crowd ripped open and shadows began to pour out.
“Is this your doing, Huntress?” shouted Judy Brass over the screams of the crowd, as she stared up at the sky. “Your bitch will not evade justice with trickery!”
Calista did not hear the CEO. She did not hear the screams from the crowd. Her crescent moon pendant glowed brightly between her breasts. She knew exactly what was beyond that rift. She knew what was coming for them.
“Rain! Elmer!” Calista frantically screamed as she grabbed Rain’s arm and hauled her through the crowd. “Run! For your life, run!”
“Calista, what is…,” Rain asked, as a tremendous, earth-shattering roar erupted from the rift.
They ran, bravery abandoned, as the Dragon of Endless Shadows emerged from the rift.
As the sky was blanketed in darkness.