Emmie's consciousness floated in darkness. He was without weight, suspended in an endless void where time had lost meaning. Every sound was hushed except for the faint hum of his heartbeat. He wasn't wholly sure whether his eyes were opened or closed-there was no light, no ground, no sky, just this oppressive emptiness that threatened to swallow him whole.
Then, faint whispers began to creep in.
"Weak…"
"You'll never find them…"
"You can't even save yourself."
Emmie clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. The voices were sharp, jagged things, tugging at every insecurity he'd buried deep within himself. "You're not real," he muttered, his voice hoarse and defiant. "This is just another trick."
The whispers paused, as if considering his words. Then they coalesced into a single voice—a deep, gravelly tone that sent shivers down his spine.
"A trick? No, Emmie. This is the truth you've tried so desperately to ignore."
A cold gust of wind suddenly whooshed by him, and the surrounding void rippled. Shapes began to take form in the distance-indistinct figures, blurred at the edges. They moved closer, their forms sharpening into familiar faces: Mira, her expression twisted in fear; Cory, battered and bloodied; Amara, reaching out as if to plead for his help.
"Emmie…" Mira's voice was a fragile thread, barely audible. "Why didn't you save us?"
"No," Emmie breathed, shaking his head. "This isn't real. You're not—"
The ground materialized beneath his feet, cold and uneven. Shadows swirled around him, their movements chaotic and unnatural. The figures of his friends dissolved into black smoke, reforming into the towering shape of the shadowy figure he had faced before.
You think you can escape me?" it growled, its glowing eyes fixed on him. "You're nothing without them. Alone, you're powerless."
"Not alone," Emmie shot back, his voice shaking but resolute. He reached deep inside himself, searching for that small spark of light, the same one that had saved him before.
Nothing.
Panic welled in his chest. The light that had always been there, however dim, was doused. He was really in the dark.
The figure laughed, a screeching-metal kind of sound. "Do you see now? Without them, you're just a scared boy, fumbling in the dark."
Emmie's hands clenched fists. "I don't need light to fight you," he said, his voice firming. "I've faced worse.
In one swift movement, it plunged towards him; in another second, it had traversed the distance between them. Emmie dove to his side, barely dodging its grasp. The ground cracked under the weight of the figure's bulk, sending shards of stone flying.
Emmie scrambled to his feet, his mind racing. He had to devise a plan-something, anything-to get the upper hand. But the darkness was alive, shifting and warping around him, making it impossible to focus.
The figure slowly pivoted, his glowing eyes narrowing. "Run, little spark," he taunted. "Let's see how far you can go."
Emmie took off, his boots pounding against the uneven ground. The shadows closed in around him, forming walls that shifted and changed, funneling him down a winding, labyrinthine path. Whispers returned, louder this time, a cacophony of doubt and fear.
"They don't need you."
"You're a burden."
"They're better off without you.
"No!" Emmie shouted, his voice echoing in the void. "You're wrong!"
The path opened into a cavernous space, its walls lined with glowing symbols that pulsed with a faint, silvery light. Emmie skidded to a stop, his chest heaving. The air was thick with energy, and for the first time since he'd entered the void, he felt a sliver of hope.
The shadow figure appeared at the edge of the chamber, its form contorting as it stepped into the light. It hesitated, its movements slower, more deliberate.
Emmie noticed.
"This light…" he murmured, his eyes darting to the glowing symbols. "It weakens you."
The figure snarled, its form flickering. "You think this changes anything? You're still weak."
But Emmie wasn't listening. He stepped closer to the nearest symbol, his hand hovering over it. The light pulsed brighter in response, and warmth spread through his fingertips.
"I may be weak," he said, turning to face the figure, "but I'm not powerless."
The figure roared, lunging toward him, but Emmie pressed his hand to the symbol. The light surged higher, filling the chamber with blinding brilliance. The figure howled, its form dissolving into smoke as the light consumed it.
When the light faded, the chamber was empty, save for Emmie. He fell to his knees, his body shaking with the effort.
In the ensuing silence, one voice cut through the air-a voice so familiar to him.
"Emmie! Can you hear me?"
It was Mira.
A wave of relief washed over him. He got to his feet; his resolve was renewed. "I'm coming," he said, his voice steady.
As he stepped forward, the glowing symbols lit the path ahead, guiding him toward his friends-and whatever lay beyond.
Emmie followed the trail of glowing symbols, each one sparking faint memories in the back of his mind. The air grew warmer with every step, and the oppressive darkness of the void seemed to retreat. But the echoes of Mira's voice—so distant, so fragile—kept him on edge.
"Mira," he called out again, his voice firm but laced with urgency. "I'm coming. Hold on."
The symbols lit a spiraling path that descended deep into the ground. The walls of the corridor shimmered with faint, silvery veins, like streams of molten light frozen in time. Each vein pulsed faintly, and Emmie felt his strength returning with every beat.
But the whispers hadn't vanished entirely.
"You're running toward the inevitable."
"You'll only fail again."
Emmie shrugged off the acid in the voice's words and kept going. The path opened into a cave unlike any he'd ever seen. In the center, some sort of crystal structure jutted out of the earth, its surface smooth and glowing with that silvery light. Something inside stirred-no, someone.
"Mira!
Her form was like a hint, it seemed to hang within the crystal, her arms outstretched as if reaching out for something. Her eyes were closed and her skin pale, almost lifeless.
Emmie charged toward the crystal, his heart pounding in his chest. "I got you," he whispered, slapping his hands against the cool surface. But no sooner had the skin of his hands made contact than the room began to shake violently, and the whispers became deafening.
"She is ours now."
"You cannot break the seal."
"Leave, before you doom her."
Emmie gritted his teeth. "I'm not leaving her," he growled. "Not now, not ever."
The crystal responded to his defiance, its light flaring brightly. A symbol—like those on the path, yet much more intricate—glowed on its surface. It was similar to an ancient rune, but he couldn't quite place its meaning.
"Ah, okay," he mumbled to himself as finally his brain was cranked into overdrive. "You want me to work this out? Alright."
He laid his fingers against the symbol, tracing its outlines. The glow beneath his fingertips quickened, and the crystal started to hum. But as he worked, a dark presence began to fill the chamber.
The figure now returned, larger and more menacing than before. This time, it did not come alone. Small wriggling shadows emerged from the walls, their light-sensitive eyes focused on Emmie.
"You should have run," it hissed. "Now, you will fall."
Emmie's breathing quickened, but he didn't let go of the crystal. The rune pulsed brighter, and he felt a strange connection to it-as if it were guiding him.
"I am not afraid of you," he said in a voice steady yet with fear clawing at him.
The smaller shadows lunged for them, quick chaotic movements; Emmie ducked and weaved, his instincts sharp. He managed to grab a fallen shard of crystal off the ground, the edge glowing faintly. In a desperate swing, he struck one of the shadows. The creature shrieked, dissolving into smoke.
The larger figure laughed. "A spark of defiance. But it won't save you."
Emmie turned back to the rune, his fingers moving faster now. The pattern shifted beneath his touch to reveal more intricate designs. He didn't know how he knew what he was doing, but he followed the strange tug in his chest.