The chamber was alive with raw, untamed power. The air vibrated with the clashing energies of light and darkness as John, Aragorn, and Legolas stood firm, their weapons gleaming with purpose. The twisted Gandalf, the vessel of the ancient malevolent force, towered before them, his eyes glowing with an eerie, unnatural fire. Around him, the shadows twisted and danced, writhing like serpents ready to strike.
"Now it begins," the dark Gandalf hissed, raising his staff. Black tendrils of shadow erupted from the ground, snaking toward John and the others, seeking to bind them in the ancient power's grip.
John acted swiftly, slashing through the tendrils with his sword, the brilliant light of his **Light Infusion** cutting through the darkness like a beacon of hope. "We have come too far to fail now!" he roared, his voice ringing with defiance.
Beside him, Legolas unleashed a flurry of arrows, each one charged with Elven magic, aimed directly at the heart of the twisted Gandalf. Aragorn swung his sword with precision and strength, his blade meeting the dark force with every strike. Yet, every blow felt as though it was met with an overwhelming, almost infinite resistance. The darkness was vast, ancient, and it seemed unyielding.
"You think you can resist me?" the corrupted Gandalf sneered, raising his hands. From the shadows beneath him, colossal figures emerged—hulking beings made of darkness, their forms indistinct yet filled with malice. Their glowing red eyes fixed on the trio, ready to crush them.
"Stay sharp!" Aragorn yelled, dodging the massive swing of one of the dark giants. His sword clanged against its shadowy arm, but it barely flinched. "We cannot let them overwhelm us!"
John felt the weight of the battle pressing on him. The odds seemed impossible, but the light within him surged, pushing him forward. He couldn't allow despair to take root. With a burst of energy, he invoked **Divine Pulse**, a skill that sent out waves of holy energy from his body. The pulse pushed back the encroaching darkness, causing the giant creatures to stumble momentarily.
"We have to destroy the heart of the darkness," Galadriel's voice echoed from behind them, her figure glowing with ethereal light as she prepared a powerful spell. "Only then can we free Gandalf and stop this ancient force!"
John glanced at the real Gandalf, still suspended by dark chains in the center of the chamber. His face was pale, his eyes closed, but his light—though faint—still flickered. **He's still alive**, John thought, and that gave him hope.
Legolas darted between the dark giants, his movements fluid and precise. Every shot he fired was aimed to weaken, to cripple their dark opponents. He managed to strike one of the giants in what could only be described as its core, causing the creature to collapse into a heap of shadows that dissolved into the ground.
"We can't keep fighting these things forever," Legolas muttered under his breath as he nocked another arrow, eyes scanning for a way to strike at their true enemy.
Aragorn, ever the strategist, shouted, "John! Can you use your magic to reach the real Gandalf?"
John nodded, eyes narrowing as he assessed the battlefield. The dark Gandalf seemed to be the key to everything—the entity controlling the giants and the malevolent shadows, feeding off of Gandalf's power. If they could sever that connection…
With a surge of determination, John pushed forward, raising his sword high. His magic flared around him, a radiant aura that burned through the shadows. The twisted Gandalf turned his gaze toward John, and for the first time, there was a flicker of uncertainty in those dark eyes.
"Enough!" the dark Gandalf roared, raising his staff. A wave of darkness surged toward John, faster than he could react.
Just as the shadow was about to engulf John, the chamber shook violently, the walls trembling as if responding to an ancient, forgotten force. Cracks formed along the floor, and suddenly, from deep beneath the earth, a new power surged upward.
John froze, his eyes widening. The Elven Compass, which had been their guide through the treacherous land, now blazed with a new light—an intense golden glow that seemed to pierce through the heart of the darkness itself.
"It cannot be..." the dark Gandalf whispered, his voice tinged with fear for the first time. "The Light of Elandor..."
The compass levitated from John's hand, its light expanding until it enveloped the entire chamber. The dark giants recoiled, howling as they dissolved into nothingness, their forms unable to withstand the purifying light. The twisted Gandalf staggered back, his connection to the ancient power severed momentarily.
Galadriel's eyes lit up with realization. "The compass—it contains the last remnants of Elandor's light! It was not just a guide... it is the heart of this world's ancient power!"
John gripped his sword tightly, his mind racing. The compass had been their guide, but now it was clear that it held the key to defeating this ancient darkness once and for all. The light of the ancient kingdom of Elandor, the one that had fallen to this malevolent force, was now their weapon.
But as the light grew, something else was revealed—a massive structure beneath the chamber, ancient and buried for eons. It was a fortress of sorts, a citadel from the time of Elandor, hidden beneath Mordor, forgotten by time. And at its center was a massive crystal, pulsating with both light and shadow.
"The true heart of the darkness," Galadriel whispered. "That crystal is the source of its power. Destroy it, and we can banish this ancient evil forever."
John nodded, his resolve firm. "Then that's our target."
The shadowy Gandalf, regaining some of his strength, snarled. "You think you can destroy the heart of my power? You are fools! This world belongs to the darkness now!"
But John was already moving, Aragorn and Legolas at his side. With the compass's light guiding them, they surged forward toward the ancient citadel beneath the chamber. The ground trembled as the dark Gandalf unleashed everything he had, but it was too late. The light of Elandor was too powerful, pushing back the shadow with every step they took.
John reached the crystal, feeling its immense, oppressive energy as he raised his sword high. "For Middle-Earth!" he shouted, and with all his strength, he brought his blade down.
The crystal shattered with a deafening explosion of light and shadow, the ancient power screaming as it was torn apart. The dark Gandalf let out one final, agonized cry before his form dissolved, leaving only the real Gandalf, freed from his chains.
And in that moment, the darkness that had gripped Mordor for so long was banished, the land itself beginning to heal as the light of Elandor spread through the world once more.