The cab ride to Volkov's estate felt longer than it should have. Elias sat in the back, hood pulled low, staring out at the city lights that blurred past the windows. His fingers drummed against his knee in a restless rhythm. Markus's face lingered at the edge of every thought—his brother's expression twisted into a puppet-like smile, Azazel's words threading through his mind. You remind me of Kairo...
Elias exhaled sharply and shook his head. Focus. Just get through this, and then maybe things will start making sense.
The cab pulled up to the estate, where iron gates stood tall and foreboding, creaking open as the driver approached. Beyond lay a mansion that radiated wealth—a blend of modern indulgence and old-world charm, its windows gleaming under soft amber lights.
Elias stepped out, slinging his bag over his shoulder as the others arrived behind him. Naomi gave him a tight smile, but he noticed the way her shoulders tensed as she glanced toward the mansion's entrance. Ava shuffled beside her, glancing uneasily at the towering statues flanking the path. And Dan… gone was the messy conspiracy theorist; he wore a sharp suit, smelling faintly of soft cologne.
"Nice outfit," Elias grinned, trying to sound casual, though the slight quiver in his voice betrayed him.
Dan snorted softly. "Relax, bro. I know I look handsome, but it's just a suit."
A uniformed butler greeted them at the entrance, bowing slightly. "Mr. Volkov is expecting you."
Inside, the mansion was breathtaking. Crystal chandeliers shimmered overhead, casting a warm glow on walls lined with priceless paintings and relics. Every piece of furniture polished to perfection, every artifact placed with obsessive precision.
Naomi kept her expression neutral, but Elias could sense the tension beneath it. He knew Volkov made her skin crawl—his earlier advances having left a sour taste. But what choice did they have?
From the top of the grand staircase, Ivan Volkov descended with the easy grace of a man used to being admired. His tailored suit hugged his tall frame, his salt-and-pepper hair perfectly in place.
"Ms. Faraday," Volkov said warmly, extending his hand. "A pleasure to see you again. You look radiant as always."
Naomi shook his hand briefly, her smile polite but guarded. "Good to see you, Mr. Volkov. Thank you for letting us into your lovely home."
Volkov's gaze lingered on Naomi a moment too long before he turned to the others. "And welcome, all of you. I've prepared something special for today. Please, come."
The dining room was just as extravagant. A long mahogany table stretched beneath a grand chandelier, its surface set with silverware so polished it gleamed. Plates of roasted duck, delicate pastries, and steaming bowls of soup filled the air with a tantalizing aroma.
They took their seats—Naomi sitting stiffly beside Elias, Ava fidgeting uncomfortably across from them, and Dan practically drooling over the food.
"This is... a lot," Ava whispered, her eyes darting toward the butler refilling their wine glasses. "It's like something out of a movie."
Volkov raised his glass, smiling as if he'd heard her. "I believe in sharing life's pleasures. Please, eat. Enjoy yourselves."
Dan didn't need further encouragement. "Don't mind if I do," he muttered, piling his plate with duck and bread.
Elias picked at his food, distracted by the hum of his own thoughts. The weight of Markus's possession hung like a storm cloud over him, making everything feel distant and surreal. He poked at a pastry absentmindedly, the conversation around him turning to static in his ears.
"So," Volkov began, swirling his wine. "I understand you've been looking into the Aetherians." His tone was casual, but his eyes glittered with interest.
Naomi set her glass down carefully. "That name's something we discovered recently. And you never mentioned them before," she said with narrowed eyes. "Volkov... are you part of The Consumed?"
Volkov gave a knowing smile. "Sometimes, yes. When they suit my needs. But I must confess... I was hoping that this mystery would've unraveled more slowly."
Elias looked up from his plate, his focus sharpening slightly. "You believe that the Devourers are gods?"
Volkov inclined his head. "'Devourers' is such an inaccurate name for creatures beyond human logic. Look, there is power in history, and it is best handled with care. Misinterpretation can be... dangerous."
Naomi's lips thinned. "The artifacts, Volkov. We need to see them."
Volkov's smile deepened, as if she'd asked exactly what he wanted to hear. "I'll gladly show them to you, my dear," he said as he slid out from his chair. "I have one in particular that your boss sold me, which has proved to be the crowning jewel of my collection."
The group traversed the vast halls of Volkov's estate. The conversations drifted between artifacts and Volkov's travels, with Naomi politely deflecting every attempt he made to steer things toward her personal life.
Ava stayed mostly quiet, observing the odd dynamics with sharp eyes. Then a glint caught the corner of her eye—a ring of silver with intricate engraving etched on its band. At its apex was a green gem, brighter than any diamond she had ever seen.
"I won't snitch if you take it," Dan murmured beside her, a teasing glint in his eyes.
Ava chuckled, tension melting away ever so slightly. "No, thank you, Stratton. You might be used to being in prison, but I for one don't want to start," she said, moving to follow the group once more.
"Hey! How do you know I was in prison before?" Dan hurried behind.
Meanwhile, Elias, lost in his thoughts, barely noticed the subtle tension building in the air. Then, as they drew near an overly impressive steel door, Volkov turned to them with glee.
"Now," he said with a satisfied smile, "if you'll join me, I have something truly extraordinary to share."
Naomi exchanged a wary glance with Elias, and he gave a slight nod. Whatever this was, they needed to be ready.
Opening the door revealed a candlelit corridor, the glow of flickering flames casting shifting shadows on the walls. The air smelled faintly of incense, adding an almost reverent weight to the atmosphere.
Volkov led them through, now quiet and stripped of bravado. His face wore an expression of grave anticipation.
They arrived at the end of the hall. A grand sight welcomed them—robed figures gathered around an altar, where an object rested in the shape of a sword. It looked ancient, riddled with tumors of dirt, rust, and time.
Leaving the group, Volkov stood at the head of the altar, his hands raised in a gesture that mirrored ancient statues around the room. His voice carried through the chamber, smooth and deliberate. "Tonight, we honor the gods of the Aetherians—a sacred tradition, passed down through centuries. We offer gratitude for their wisdom and favor."
The worshipers, draped in white robes, bowed their heads as if in silent prayer. Candles flickered along the walls, casting long, wavering shadows that seemed to dance in rhythm with the murmured incantations.
Elias's skin prickled. There was something unsettling about the scene, like a performance too perfect to be real. The sword on the altar somehow shimmered beneath the candlelight, its surface glinting as if alive. He could feel its pull—heavy, magnetic, as if the weapon itself recognized him.
Naomi shifted beside him, her hand brushing his arm in a rare moment of alarm. She leaned close, her voice a harsh whisper. "What the hell? Is that... the sword?"
Elias nodded, his throat tight. "It has to be. Looks ancient as hell, but it can't just be coincidence."
Naomi's eyes narrowed, flicking from the altar to Volkov. "Yeah, but isn't it supposed to kill Devourers? Why does this feel... wrong. Really wrong."
The chanting around them began—soft at first, rising and falling like the pulse of a heartbeat. The ancient syllables dripped from the worshipers' tongues with eerie reverence, each word thickening the air like fog. Their voices echoed through the chamber, building slowly in volume, until it felt like the room itself was vibrating, pulling them deeper into something dark and unknown.
Elias swallowed, feeling the weight pressing against him, seeping into his bones. A low hum emanated from the sword on the altar, vibrating through the floor and up his legs. It wasn't just heard; it was felt, burrowing deep into his chest like an ache. The sense of familiarity struck him—a strange, sickening deja vu that he could only connect to Kairo. Somewhere, in the hum of the sword, he felt his friend's presence, tangled and distorted.
Naomi's hand gripped his arm more tightly, her nails digging in. "Elias," she murmured, her voice barely audible over the rising chant, "something's happening."
The candles along the walls flickered erratically, their flames bending and twisting as if caught in an unnatural wind. The air shimmered like heatwaves, distorting the space around the altar, and the hum from the sword deepened, now a low, pulsing drone that seemed to press in on all sides. The shadows seemed to grow, pressing against them, stretching across the walls in distorted, unnatural shapes.
Elias took an instinctive step forward, his breaths shallow. The urge to grab the sword clawed at him, but it felt like the very air was holding him back, thickening around him, resisting his every movement.
Then, with a sharp crack, the space above the altar tore open—a jagged rift, as if reality itself had been split.
From the breach, dark, slithering shapes began to pour through, their bodies coiling and stretching, limbs twisting in ways that defied sense. Shadows took on limbs, claws, and glowing, inhuman eyes, moving with a predatory grace that sent shivers down Elias's spine. The Devourers slithered forward, testing the space with an eerie, controlled curiosity, their movements deliberate yet alien, as if every moment was calculated.
Gasps echoed through the chamber, reverence shifting to fanaticism as the worshipers fell to their knees, arms raised in awed surrender.
Volkov's eyes gleamed, his voice a rasp. "Yes! This is what we were promised!" His body convulsed, electricity crackling around him, illuminating his face twisted in blissful devotion. "This energy—Asherah's gift!"
The other worshipers followed, their bodies contorting, shimmering as their forms began to shift and warp. Scales blossomed across their skin, limbs twisted, and third eyes opened upon their foreheads, gleaming with unholy light. They were changing, embracing the monstrous gifts bestowed upon them by the gods they'd summoned.
Elias's pulse quickened, panic rising in his chest. He grabbed Naomi's arm, pulling her back as the Devourers slithered closer, their glowing eyes locking onto them with cold, predatory intent. The air itself seemed colder, sharp with the scent of decay and a metallic tang, like blood spilled and left too long in the open air.
One of the Devourers hissed, its eyes fixed on Elias. It opened its maw, rows of razor-sharp teeth bared, ready to devour anything in its path.
Naomi's voice was sharp with panic. "We need to get out. Now!"
But Volkov was transfixed, his arms outstretched toward the altar, his face lit with manic reverence. "They've blessed us! We honor them, and they grant us their power!" His voice trembled with devotion, lost to the madness that filled the room.
Elias didn't hesitate any longer. With his heart pounding, he dashed forward, toward the altar, his body moving on instinct. The sword's hum grew louder, almost deafening, filling his ears with an energy that called to him, that seemed to know him.
A Devourer lunged, claws slicing through the air. Elias's hand found the sword just in time, his fingers gripping its hilt as he swung in one swift motion. The blade cut cleanly through the creature, which dissolved into a dark mist with a final, anguished shriek.
The sword pulsed in his grip, filling him with a surge of power that left him staggered. It was heavier than he expected, as if weighted not by metal but by something far older, something alive.
There was no time to adjust. More Devourers were pouring through the rift, slinking across the chamber floor like shadows come to life. They moved with an unsettling grace, their bodies undulating as they closed in.
"Move!" Elias shouted, barely hearing his own voice over the drone of the sword. He slashed at another Devourer as it lunged toward Naomi, the blade cutting through it in a single, decisive arc.
Naomi, jolted into action, grabbed a holstered gun from a fallen worshiper, moving in sync with Elias as if they were back in Celestian Requiem. Her aim was precise, each impact sending Devourers skittering back, though none of her bullets could pierce their skins.
Ava and Dan stood frozen by the doorway, wide-eyed as they watched the scene unfold. Ava's gaze locked onto Elias and Naomi's coordinated movements, disbelief and admiration mingling on her face.
"They... they look just like in the game," Ava murmured, voice filled with awe.
Dan's head shook slowly, his expression one of almost reverent shock. "It's badass."
Above them, the rift widened, and more Devourers spilled into the chamber, their shrieks filling the air with a sound that clawed at the mind. The ground trembled, and the walls seemed to pulse with the same corrupted energy that radiated from the rift, twisting everything it touched.
Volkov and the worshipers, now fully transformed, stood at the altar, their scaled forms and gleaming third eyes a horrific testament to their devotion. They lifted their hands to the rift, as if welcoming the creatures to consume them.
"Go!" Elias's voice was hoarse, but there was no room for hesitation. He slashed at another Devourer, holding it back as Naomi, Ava, and Dan sprinted toward the exit. His feet felt heavy, the pull of the sword relentless, urging him to stay, to fight.
Just a little farther...
They burst through the mansion doors into the cold night, the sharp air hitting them like a slap to the face. They gasped, filling their lungs with the clean, clear air, so different from the suffocating weight of the chamber.
Behind them, the mansion's windows glowed with an eerie, pulsing light. The ground around the estate seemed to wither, the grass turning brittle and grey, as if the life itself had been drained away.
The Devourers gathered at the doorway, their forms twitching and writhing, but none dared to step over the threshold. One hissed, frustrated, its clawed hands reaching but falling short, as if repelled by an invisible barrier. Others that attempted to breach it shrieked in pain, their flesh searing, gasping as the clean air burned their lungs.
Naomi leaned heavily against the gate wall, her breaths coming in shallow gasps. "What... what the hell was that?"
Elias tightened his grip on the sword, still feeling its energy thrumming in his hands. "It's a portal. A goddamn portal."
Dan's wide eyes were fixed on the glowing windows, his awe replaced by something darker. "So they're stuck in there... for now?"
Elias nodded, glancing back at the writhing forms inside. "For now. But judging by how fast the corruption spread, it won't last."
Dan's face fell, his voice grim. "Judging by the rate of decay, I'd say we've got a month. Tops."