The portal crackled with erratic bursts of energy, casting the ruined courtyard of Halewick Academy in a harsh, flickering light. The surrounding trees shivered as an unnatural wind swept through, carrying the scent of ozone and ancient magic. Dark stood at the portal's edge, eyes locked on the churning vortex that had been both prison and salvation. Memories of his forced journey through time gnawed at him—the fierce battle, the blinding power that had ripped him from 2040 and hurled him into the 1700s.
He felt Vorax stir within him, the sentient shadow creature's presence rippling through his veins.
Vorax: (thinking) The energy's different, Dark. Something's forcing this portal to stay open.
Dark's jaw tightened. Vorax's voice resonated like a low growl in his mind, always hovering between caution and anticipation.
Dark: (thinking) Then we need to find out who or what that is.
The courtyard wasn't quiet for long. On the other side of time, the year 2041 remained in a state of tense vigil. Cron, Tier, Leona, and Gilmuar stood before the rift, the once-unthinkable anomaly that had refused to close since the day Dark vanished. The air around them crackled, thick with both hope and dread.
Cron's fist clenched at his side, the tendons in his arm taut with frustration. His silver eyes, usually glimmering with a confident smirk, were clouded with determination.
Cron: (muttering) A whole year, and we're still no closer to answers. Dark's alive—I feel it. And if he's out there, I'm not waiting any longer.
Leona, ever the voice of reason, placed a gentle hand on his arm.
Leona: (softly) We don't know what waits beyond the veil, Cron. It could be worse than we imagined.
Gilmuar's gaze stayed locked on the swirling rift, his expression grave.
Gilmuar: (low voice) It's already worse. The portal's been kept open, tethered by something powerful. And it's not for our sake.
Before Cron could retort, a sudden chill swept over the group, sending shivers down their spines. The shadows deepened, and a familiar, imposing figure stepped into view. Ningin's presence exuded an aura of quiet menace, his black robes shifting like liquid shadow around him.
Ningin: (calmly) You're correct, Gilmuar. What waits on the other side is beyond your comprehension. But I'm here to see it for myself.
Cron's eyes narrowed, fingers flexing as if longing to grip a weapon.
Cron: (snarling) Ningin. This isn't your fight. You think we'll let you follow us?
Before the tension could break, another voice, quieter but sharper, sliced through the courtyard.
One: (smirking) Trust? No, Cron. I'm not here for your approval. I'm here for what lies beyond that portal.
The group fell silent as One's dark eyes gleamed with a mix of amusement and ambition. His presence was as unsettling as Ningin's, their motives always obscured by layers of deception and intrigue.
Tier glanced at the portal, its energy pulsing as if in response to the rising tension.
Tier: (voice steady) If we go, we go now. Together. No time for second thoughts.
Cron nodded, determination sparking in his eyes. Without another word, he stepped forward, the swirling energy of the portal reflecting in his gaze. The others followed suit, their breaths held as they prepared to face whatever lay on the other side.
The crossing was not gentle. As Cron plunged through the rift, reality twisted around him. Cold tendrils of energy clawed at his skin, and the world blurred into a chaotic whirl of colors and sound. His senses were assaulted by a cacophony—screams, whispers, roars of creatures he could not name.
When he emerged on the other side, the landscape was eerily silent. Dark, twisted trees loomed around them, their branches clawing at the sky like skeletal fingers. The sky was a bruised, swirling expanse of black and violet, streaked with veins of crimson lightning.
Dark stood in the clearing, his figure silhouetted against the stormy horizon. His greatsword gleamed with Vorax's dark essence, and his eyes narrowed as he recognized the familiar faces stepping through the portal.
Cron's heart leaped at the sight of his old friend.
Cron: (breathless) Hey you...wait a minute...
Cron: Dark?
Dark's gaze softened for a fleeting moment before hardening again, his expression shadowed by the weight of the past three years.
A sudden, resonant chuckle echoed through the trees, sending a chill down their spines. From the darkness, another figure stepped forward—tall, imposing, with eyes that burned with an unholy crimson light.
The swirling vortex of the portal loomed behind them, a breach in reality that pulsed with ominous energy. Cron, Tier, Leona, and Gilmuar stood side by side, their faces a mix of shock and determination as they faced the impossible presence before them. The air crackled with an electric charge, and a suffocating tension settled over the scene.
Standing at the forefront, Sukojo regarded the new arrivals with an expression of cold amusement. His crimson eyes glimmered with ancient malice, and a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.
Sukojo: (smirking) Welcome, travelers. You're just in time for the end of everything.
Cron clenched his fists, stepping forward despite the chill that raced down his spine.
Cron: (defiantly) Sukojo... we won't let you bring ruin here. Not while we stand.
Tier's eyes shifted warily to the towering figure, a memory of past battles surfacing in his mind. The sheer magnitude of Sukojo's power was beyond anything they had faced. Even with the four of them combined, they knew the battle ahead would be unlike any before.
Leona: (muttering) This energy... it's suffocating. How are we supposed to fight something like him?
Before anyone could answer, Ningin and One appeared behind the group, their presences manifesting with a sharp distortion of reality. Ningin's gaze, usually fierce and unyielding, softened as it fell upon Sukojo. He took a slow, measured step back, eyes shadowed with apprehension.
Ningin: (voice low, almost reverent) So, he's truly here... The Devourer himself.
One, the enigmatic force of nature who rarely showed emotion, stood silent, a subtle tremor running through his frame as he met Sukojo's gaze. They exchanged a look filled with unspoken history, the echoes of a cataclysm that had left marks on the fabric of time itself.
Sukojo's smirk deepened, the atmosphere around him warping under the weight of his presence.
Sukojo: (mockingly) What's this? The mighty Ningin and One, showing fear? How quaint. Have you learned to bow so easily?
Ningin's jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing as he forced himself to speak.
Ningin: (strained) We remember the last time, Sukojo. And we know what you're capable of. But we won't bow. Not this time.
Gilmuar, who had been silent until now, stepped forward, the flames in his eyes burning with defiance.
Gilmuar: Enough of this! We didn't come here to cower in fear.
Sukojo's laughter rang out, dark and resonant, shaking the ground beneath them.
Sukojo: (amused) Brave words, little flame. But bravery won't be enough.
Dark appeared behind them, emerging from the shadows with Vorax swirling protectively around him. His voice cut through the tension, calm yet commanding.
Dark: (coldly) We're not here to be enough. We're here to end this.
Sukojo's eyes flickered with interest as he turned his full attention to Dark, his smirk faltering for just a moment.
Sukojo: (smiling) Ah, the prodigal shadow returns. Let's see if you can amuse me before the end.
Dark: (voice deepening, merging with Vorax's resonance) Shut up, Sukojo.
The combined voice of Dark and Vorax reverberated through the air, chilling the onlookers to their core. The shadows coiling around Dark's body flared, forming jagged, living armor that pulsated with an otherworldly energy.
Sukojo's crimson eyes gleamed with a twisted amusement. His smirk widened as he tilted his head, the weight of his presence making the ground beneath them quiver.
Sukojo: (mocking) Oh really? Agami and Shinryu both tried to lock me away in the Prison Gate.
Sukojo: But you? You failed them. You couldn't even secure my body. And that is precisely why I stand here now, in my true, unshackled form.
Dark's fingers tightened on the hilt of his greatsword, Vorax's voice echoing in his mind.
Vorax: (thinking, voice laced with tension) Dark, this man. I cannot defeat such an anomaly....
Dark: I wasn't thinking straight back then—a mistake we're paying for now.
Sukojo's laughter cut through the air, sharp and hollow.
Sukojo: (voice growing menacing) And that is the reason why YOU ARE HERE!
With a sweeping motion, Sukojo raised his arms as if presenting the chaos around them. His gaze fixed on Dark with a piercing intensity.
Sukojo: Because of your failure, I am still alive. And for that, I thank you. In return, I shall grant you the mercy of dying swiftly.
Vorax: (thinking, alarmed) Move! NOW!
In an instant, Dark leapt to the left, barely escaping the shimmering line that slashed through space itself. The cut seared the ground where he had stood moments before, leaving behind a jagged, empty rift that emitted a dark, malevolent aura.
Dark: (thinking, pulse racing) That was too close.
Sukojo: (eyes wide with manic glee) HAHAHAHA! QUITE LUCKY, AREN'T YOU?
A shift rippled through the battlefield as Cron, Ningin, One, and the others stepped forward. The air crackled with anticipation, their combined auras forming a barrier of immense power. Cron's golden energy surged, intertwining with Ningin's dark, flame-like presence. One stood stoic, his gaze sharp, ready for what lay ahead.
Cron: (voice steady, determined) We take him together.
The first strike came from Cron, his fist enveloped in blazing energy as he lunged at Sukojo. The impact exploded against Sukojo's chest, sending a shockwave that fractured the earth beneath them. But Sukojo barely moved, his smirk unwavering.
Sukojo: (with a sardonic chuckle) Pathetic.
Ningin followed, chanting an incantation that turned the air around him into a dark vortex. Black tendrils lashed out, weaving towards Sukojo like serpents with minds of their own. One's energy melded with the assault, creating a storm of sheer power that engulfed Sukojo.
For a moment, the battlefield was a blinding cacophony of light and shadow, the roar of magic echoing in their ears. The ground splintered, trees were uprooted, and the sky itself seemed to warp under the pressure.
Lara: (whispering, eyes wide) This... this is unreal.
Amidst the chaos, Sukojo's laughter rang out again. A wave of crimson energy exploded from his core, shattering the combined attacks and sending everyone flying backward. Cron tumbled across the ground, blood trickling from a gash on his forehead. Ningin's breathing was ragged, a rare look of shock crossing his usually composed face.
One: (grimly) It's not enough.
Sukojo stood unscathed, dusting off his cloak as if removing an insignificant speck of dirt. His gaze swept over the warriors, eyes glinting with disdain.
Sukojo: (sighing) That was supposed to be impressive? I'm disappointed.
Before they could react, Sukojo flickered and reappeared behind One, fingers curled into a deadly claw. One barely turned in time to block, but the sheer force of the strike sent him skidding backward, feet digging deep trenches into the ground.
Ningin: (growling) You will not win, Sukojo.
Sukojo's expression twisted into something darker, more malevolent.
Sukojo: (low, dangerous) Win? I'm not here to win. I'm here to remind you all why even gods fear my name.
With a sweeping motion, he summoned a dark sphere, pulsing with energy so dense that the surrounding space seemed to warp inward. The warriors braced themselves, preparing for the onslaught.
Cron: (through gritted teeth) Everyone, now! Give it everything you've got!
The scene erupted in a final, desperate clash—a storm of energy, fire, shadow, and raw, defiant will. The ground quaked under the strain, cracks spreading like veins as the battle raged on. For a moment, it seemed as though their combined might could hold Sukojo at bay.
But as the dust settled, a chilling silence followed. Sukojo stood at the center, eyes narrowed, a cruel smile stretching across his lips.
Sukojo: (with dark amusement) Well, that was... boring.
Cron, bloodied and battered, managed to stand, glaring defiantly.
Cron: (panting) Do you... ever die?
Sukojo's smirk deepened, eyes gleaming with an unsettling light.
Sukojo: Die? That word means nothing to me. It doesn't exist in my vocabulary.
He took a step forward, the ground trembling beneath his feet as the true terror of the Devourer of All settled over them like a suffocating shroud.
End of Arc 3 Chapter 3.