The thought struck Atlas like a hammer to the chest, refusing to leave. The creature wasn't merely a shadowy aberration or some monstrous anomaly. No, it was far more. It was a being that had brushed against divinity, a creature whose power bordered on the unfathomable.
Atlas gritted his teeth as he stared at the staircase, the weight of what awaited them above crushing his resolve. How could something like that exist? And why were they forced to face it.
His body still tingled from the vision Ivan had shared with him, his own death replaying in excruciating clarity. The memory of claws tearing through him, the suffocating darkness of its presence, and the blinding terror that gripped his heart all felt too real. If that wasn't just a vision, if it truly was a glimpse of his fate, then Atlas knew with certainty that this creature wasn't something they were meant to defeat. It was an entity to flee from, to avoid at all costs.
But the gods had other plans.
Atlas glanced at Ivan, who stood a few paces away, staring up at the temple's peak with an expression caught between determination and resignation. Ivan's shoulders were tense, his jaw set, but his eyes—the faint purple glow of his Aether still shimmering within—seemed distant, as if he was peering into a reality beyond Atlas's comprehension.
"Ivan," Atlas called, his voice low but urgent.
Ivan didn't respond immediately. Instead, his head tilted slightly, and the glow in his eyes intensified, purple light flooding his irises and illuminating the veins around them. His Aether surged, spilling into the air like a tangible force, pressing against Atlas with a weight that made his knees feel weak.
When Ivan finally spoke, his voice was soft but resonant, laced with an almost otherworldly clarity. "The outcome is blurry. The gods… they aren't just testing you, My vessel. They're testing me too." He turned to face Atlas fully, his glowing eyes locking onto him. "This isn't just your trial."
Before Atlas could respond, Ivan began climbing the stairs, each step deliberate and steady.
As Ivan reached the top, the room above came into view, the towering shadow creature still waiting near the throne. Its form writhed and shifted like living smoke, its jackal-like hind legs rooted to the stone floor while its horns scraped against the high ceiling. The eyes, those pure, glowing white eyes, fixed on Ivan the moment he entered.
Without hesitation, the creature raised an elongated, claw-like arm and plunged it into the ground. Black Aether erupted from its claws, spreading like spilled ink and forming a swirling sphere of darkness that covered the portion of the room pulling Ivan into it. It pulsated ominously, radiating malice so intense that Atlas felt it even from the base of the stairs.
Ivan, before the Sphere hit him, surrounded himself in Aether as if creating a sphere of his own made from a darker purple color than normal. The two clashed for a brief moment before Ivan was swallowed.
Atlas hesitated. The key was still visible, resting on the throne outside the creature's sphere of influence, but every instinct screamed at him to retreat. The temple felt alive now, groaning and trembling as if reacting to the sheer force of the clash between Ivan and the creature.
Inside the sphere, the darkness churned and writhed, swallowing the faint light of Ivan's Aether as he stepped inside. Atlas could hear the sounds of their battle—explosions of energy, guttural growls, and the clash of forces so vast they seemed to warp the air around them. The floor beneath him cracked and splintered, chunks of stone falling away as the temple began to shake violently.
For a brief moment Atlas saw the sphere of darkness break and he witnessed something he never should have seen. Ivan was battling the shadow creature—not with weapons or tools, but with his bare hands. To Atlas's disbelief, Ivan wasn't just holding his ground; he was keeping up, matching the creature's inhuman speed and ferocity. Each strike of Ivan's fists reverberated with Aether, flashes of purple light illuminating the room in bursts that made the shadows seem alive.
But it wasn't Ivan's strength or skill that unsettled Atlas. It was something far more horrifying.
On the sides of Ivan's face, just above his cheekbones and down his temples, dozens of grotesque, bulbous growths pulsed and shimmered. At first, Atlas thought they were injuries from the battle, but then they opened.
Eyes.
Hundreds of glistening purple eyes, each one swirling with the same Aetheric energy that coursed through Ivan. They moved independently, darting in every direction as if scanning for threats from all angles. The sight was both mesmerizing and revolting, their slick, wet surfaces reflecting the chaotic light of the battle. They blinked sporadically, focusing and unfocusing with eerie precision.
Atlas's stomach churned. It was as if Ivan's very being had been warped by the intensity of the fight, his body straining to keep pace with the creature by becoming something unnatural.
The eyes weren't just watching—they were alive, alert, and filled with a terrifying intelligence. They seemed to see everything, predicting the creature's every move, allowing Ivan to evade its attacks with impossible precision. Yet the sight of them, grotesque and otherworldly, was enough to make Atlas wish he hadn't looked.
He tore his gaze away, bile rising in his throat. It was uncanny.
This stunned Atlas for a moment before he regained himself and focused on the task at hand.
Atlas darted forward, weaving through falling debris as he made for the throne. The closer he got, the heavier the air felt, as though the temple itself was trying to crush him under its weight. He reached the base of the throne and grabbed the key, the vines curling away at his touch. The moment the key was in his hands, the creature let out a piercing screech, its voice resonating like a thousand screams layered atop one another.
Atlas turned and bolted down the staircase, his heart pounding as the temple shook with greater intensity. The sounds of the battle above grew more chaotic, more destructive. He didn't look back; he couldn't. He focused solely on escaping as the walls cracked and the ceiling began to cave in.
The roar of the collapsing temple followed him into the jungle, the ground beneath him trembling with each step. He didn't stop running until he was deep within the cover of the trees, the temple's destruction now a distant rumble. Only then did he pause, collapsing against a tree to catch his breath.
The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the distant calls of jungle creatures and the faint sound of falling rubble. Atlas looked down at the key in his hand, its surface smooth and cool despite the chaos surrounding it.
A loud crunch came from the jungle indicating that something was coming
Ivan staggered out from the shadows of the jungle, his figure bloodied and battered. His shirt was torn, revealing gashes across his arms and chest, while a thin trickle of blood ran down the side of his face. He looked like he'd been through hell, but his eyes, still faintly glowing with Aether, were sharp and focused.
"You lived," Atlas said, relief flooding his voice.
Ivan gave a small nod, leaning against a tree for support. "Barely."
"What happened back there? That thing was a to strong for us it-"
"It's not dead," Ivan interrupted, his tone grim. "But it's… wounded the gods have blessed me with that much.."
Atlas frowned, his mind racing to comprehend what Ivan must have endured.
Before Atlas could reply, a faint screech echoed through the jungle, distant but unmistakable. The creature was still alive, and it was searching for them.
Ivan straightened, his expression hardening. Without waiting for a response, he grabbed Atlas by the arm, and in the next instant, they were moving. The world around them blurred into a chaotic swirl of greens and blacks, the jungle rushing past at impossible speeds. Atlas's stomach lurched, the sheer velocity leaving him disoriented, but Ivan's grip was unyielding.
The screeches of the creature followed them, growing louder with each passing moment. It was relentless, its fury palpable even from a distance.
Finally, they reached a cave hidden behind a thick curtain of vines. Ivan pushed Atlas inside, his breathing ragged as he collapsed against the wall.
Inside, the air was cool and damp, the sound of their breathing echoing faintly in the enclosed space. Ivan lit a small fire, the flickering flames casting long shadows across the stone walls.
Atlas sat in silence, his mind racing with everything that had happened. He glanced at Ivan, who was staring into the fire, his face pale and drawn.
It wasn't until Ivan shifted slightly that Atlas noticed the dark stain spreading across his side.
"You're hurt," Atlas said,
Ivan looked down, his expression unreadable. Slowly, he pulled his shirt aside, revealing a deep gash across his abdomen. The edges of the wound were blackened, pulsing faintly with traces of the creature's Aether.
"It's nothing," Ivan muttered, though his voice lacked conviction.
"Nothing?" Atlas snapped. "That looks like—"
"It's nothing," Ivan repeated, his tone firm. He leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes briefly before speaking again. "The gods… they don't just test strength. They test resolve, sacrifice." He trailed off, his gaze fixed on the flames.
Noting Ivan's words he leaned back, holding up the key that they were looking for this whole time. They had managed to grab it. Now the journey was at least thirty percent done. He was excited to have finally made some type of progress.
If someone was watching from a bird's eye view they would see that just outside the cave no less than a hundred meters away a dark shadow was moving, searching, at supersonic speeds.
The monster was silently ripping apart any creature it ran into.
A demon was set free from its cage.