Boom!
The sound erupted like a thunderclap, shaking the camp to its core. A Wanderer stationed near the portal.... tensed, vigilant, suddenly swelled grotesquely, his abdomen distending unnaturally. No scream escaped his lips as his body detonated in a burst of flesh and blood, scattering gore across the clearing.
From the swirling energy of the portal, a figure emerged.
At first glance, he looked ordinary... a man with brown eyes, rough hair, and an unkempt beard. But as he stepped forward, the air around him seemed to warp, heavy with something vile. His gaze swept across the camp, unblinking, as though savoring the chaos.
This was Tagoma, captain of Team 4. Or at least, it had been.
For a moment, he stood motionless, a stillness more unnerving than any frenzied attack. His face, blank and hollow, began to twitch. Slowly, his eyes turned pitch black, veins spidering across his temples, pulsing with a dark, unnatural rhythm. His lips curled into a disinterested sneer.
"This is boring," he said, his voice a deep, fractured growl that carried an unnatural vibration, reverberating through the woods.
From his right shoulder, something unnatural began to push through the skin. A head emerged, malformed yet horrifyingly human, its mouth already curling into a sinister grin.
"Why don't you let me take control of this body?" the second head hissed, its voice lighter, almost mocking but steeped in malevolence.
"No," Tagoma's main head growled, his voice cold.
From the left shoulder, another head began to take shape. This one bore a more refined visage, but its eyes gleamed with authority, its tone commanding and calm.
"That is not our purpose here. Ascension is our goal. We must meet with Father," it intoned, its voice cutting through the air like steel.
The main head smirked, the expression twisting into something unnatural.
A sinister smile.
And then, chaos descended.
Wanderers screamed as their bodies began to wither and decay, their forms disintegrating into ash with horrifying speed. Some tried to fight back, but their weapons and traits were useless against the overwhelming force before them. They weren't combatants in this scenario. They were offerings.
[SYSTEM ALERT]
+
TEAM 1 HAS DIED
[Name Redacted] Has Died
[Name Redacted] Has Died
[Name Redacted] Has Died
[Name Redacted] Has Died
+
Farther from the fray, Lovia, the captain of Team 3, raced toward the camp. But when she arrived, she froze, horror overtaking her. The sight before her defied reason. The bodies of her entire team, her companions from the start of the tower, had already decayed into nothingness.
Her knees threatened to buckle. Her lips moved, forming words, but no sound escaped. Fear gripped her, colder than the frost beginning to creep across the ground.
She wasn't alone.
A sudden barrier of chilling energy surrounded her, isolating her from the carnage. Startled, she turned to find three figures standing within the barrier... Celia, Jess, and Uvan, all from Team 5. Celia's face was slightly pale, her eyes locked on the figure near the portal.
"Sorry we're late," Celia said, her voice steady despite the chaos around them.
Her gaze shifted to the figure, her brow furrowing. "Isn't that… Tagoma?" she muttered, disbelief thick in her tone.
Jess and Uvan followed her line of sight, their expressions darkening.
Uvan clenched his fists. "He's possessed by The Lords Of Teka.. That's why we couldn't contact him and his group," he said, his voice laced with frustration.
Lovia, trembling, managed to speak. "What about the rest of his team? What happened to them?"
No one answered immediately, but the silence was soon broken as the barrier began to crackle and corrode, the energy dissipating in patches.
"Damn it," Celia whispered, her voice tight. "We don't have much time."
Lovia's voice rose, desperate. "Where's the last of your group?"
Celia's lips curved into a faint, knowing smile. "I don't know where he is. But I have a feeling… he's preparing for something."
The air grew colder, the frost from Celia's Larvae spreading across the ground, tendrils of ice creeping outward.
The chill seemed to catch the attention of the Lords of Teka. The monstrous figure turned its heads toward the group, a sneer spreading across its primary face.
"Foolish Wanderers," it mocked, its voice dripping with disdain. "Your struggles are futile..... Surrender ye yourselves."
It raised a hand, a lazy gesture, and the barrier around them began to decay faster.
"You'd better know what you're doing," Uvan muttered under his breath.
Celia didn't look at him, her focus unyielding. "I'm sure," she said simply, pushing more energy into the frost. But the moment her ice touched the Lords of Teka, it began to dissipate, melting into nothingness.
The creature's smile widened. It took a step forward.
But then it hesitated.
The air shifted, growing dense and heavy. Mist began to creep across the battlefield, curling like smoke and swallowing the frost. It moved unnaturally, a living thing that enveloped everything in its path.
The Lords of Teka froze, its heads swiveling as the mist thickened around it.
From the swirling haze, a figure emerged, its steps deliberate, unhurried. The mist clung to them like a shroud, their form outlined against the faint glow of the campfire's dying embers.
"Who are you?" the Lords of Teka demanded, its voices overlapping in a chorus of hostility.
The figure did not respond.
Deep brown-yellow eyes glinted from the shadows, reflecting the faint light like predatory embers.
Without warning, the figure blurred.
Clang!
And a sharp, metallic sound rang out, cutting through the silence like a blade.....