"Freya!" Sasha screamed in alarm, her voice breaking with fear. She dashed over to her friend, her smaller frame advancing with desperate speed. Freya lay on the ground, her entire body aching with pain and exhaustion, her appearance pallid and tense.
Sasha's arms trembled as she sought out to assist her, her claws retracting into her fingertips. "Freya, hold on," she said, her tone cracking. "You will be alright. Please stay with me". But as she knelt by Freya, the protective barrier dissolved with a thundering crack, releasing energy into the air like shattered glass. The final trace of their defence had vanished, leaving them exposed and unprotected.
A darkness suddenly appeared over them, expanding wider and progressively darker, absorbing the light surrounding it. Sasha glanced up, her breath caught in her throat. Her eyes dilated in fear as she saw the creature towering over them, its presence an overwhelming force that appeared to suck the air from her lungs.
The fear that engulfed her was beyond everything she had ever experienced. It was primitive, a bone-deep dread that permeated her own essence. Every impulse told her to run, to flee the oppressive blackness that appeared to smother her under its weight. However, she was paralysed by the enormity of the figure's aura.
Sasha could barely breathe, her chest tense with terror. Her pulse pounded, yet her limbs felt sluggish as if held by unseen bands. The figure's shadow extended across the ground, engulfing them in oppressive darkness. She was unable to move or think—every cell in her body shrieked that she was unworthy of standing beneath this shadow, that she was worthless in the face of such overpowering force.
Freya, still coughing faintly, attempted to elevate her head, but her strength was fading. She could sense Sasha's fear, could feel the oppressive weight of the figure's presence bearing down on them. The world seemed to dim around her, the air thick with an unspoken threat.
The figure took a slow, deliberate step forward, its movements unnaturally fluid and precise. The ground seemed to vibrate beneath its feet, the very air around it warping with its presence. Sasha's breath hitched, a strangled gasp escaping her lips as the shadow grew darker, more suffocating.
Omen stood over the two girls, his expression unreadable, his dark eyes calmly assessing the scene before him, he gazed upon them objectively, apparently unfazed by the anguish emanating from their shaking bodies; for a brief period, his attention was drawn to the fragments of the energy barrier. He had been intrigued by its potential—barrier manipulation was a rare skill, one that could have proven useful. The energy was impressive; it had withstood his initial assault, a testament to its strength.
However, Omen's interest quickly waned as he noted its glaring weakness. The power required the user to remain immobile, tethering them to a single spot—a fatal flaw in his eyes. It wasn't versatile enough for his needs, nor did it offer the immediate, overwhelming force he sought. With a flicker of disdain, he dismissed the idea of acquiring it. He had already gained enough power to defeat formidable foes like Jacobi; he didn't need this. His gaze shifted to the smaller of the two girls, who was now utterly paralyzed by fear. Her wide eyes were filled with terror, her body quaking under his oppressive presence. The dampness spreading around her legs was a stark sign of just how deep her fear ran—she was quite literally frozen, unable to control her own body's response to the overwhelming dread.
Without another word, Omen began to walk away from the terrified girls. His movements were calm, almost serene, as he left the scene, a heavy silence fell over the shoreline. The oppressive weight of his presence lifted, and it was as if the island itself breathed a sigh of relief. The air, which had been thick and suffocating under his aura, seemed to lighten, the tension that had gripped every living thing beginning to dissipate.
Freya, still gasping for breath on the ground, felt the immediate change. The crushing force that had pressed her down decreased, enabling her to suck in a trembling breath as she strained herself to inhale as much as possible. Sasha, still hunched and shaking, slowly recovered consciousness, the paralysing terror losing its grip on her.
But the relief was bittersweet. The lingering dread remained, the memory of the boy's cold, indifferent gaze seared into their minds.
…..
Omen had lost count of the number of sea creatures he had slain by the time the purge finally ended. When the purge concluded, he estimated he had killed close to fifty different species. Some of the abilities he had acquired were potent, expanding his arsenal in unexpected ways, while others were completely useless.
He felt the familiar sensation of being pulled through the void as his body was teleported back to the purge point. Darkness enveloped him momentarily, a cold, weightless expanse that seemed to stretch on forever. Then, just as quickly, he was thrust back into reality, his feet landing on solid ground.
Omen observed the scene before him with a detached calm. The survivors appeared in flashes of light, one after the other until only fifteen remained. The once large group had been whittled down to this small number. He scanned the faces of those who had made it through, noting with some relief that Tame, Malek, and Kiba were among them. They stood a little apart from the others, their expressions grim but determined.
But not everyone he saw brought a sense of ease. His gaze shifted, and he felt a subtle tightening in his chest as he spotted Anna. Her eyes caught his for a brief moment and she gasped in surprise, probably at the fact that he was still alive, a sly smile tugging at her lips as if she knew something he didn't. Nearby, Kan loomed, his broad shoulders and stern face set in a permanent scowl. He, too, was still alive, his survival no less a surprise than the others.
And then, there was Jacobi.
Omen's eyes narrowed, Jacobi stood apart from the rest, his tall, imposing figure radiating a sense of power and command. He looked no worse for wear despite the ordeals of the purge, his expression as cold and calculating as ever. Omen's mind began to rage, his focus narrowing as he watched Jacobi with unwavering intensity. The acolyte at the front of the group continued with a speech, their voice a distant murmur that barely registered in Omen's consciousness. He didn't care what was being said, his attention was entirely fixed on Jacobi.
The memories of their last encounter played out in his mind like a vivid, unsettling dream. Omen had gained so much since then, grown stronger, faster, more resilient. He had slain creatures from the depths of the sea, acquired new powers, and honed his skills to a razor's edge. But the question remained: would it be enough?
The acolyte's speech continued a monotonous drone that fell on deaf ears. None of his strength mattered if he couldn't defeat Jacobi. None of it meant anything if he couldn't prove, once and for all, that he was stronger.
He would make sure Jacobi died a painful death.
"Omen… Omen! pay attention," Kiba's voice broke through the fog of Omen's thoughts. Omen blinked, momentarily disoriented. He hadn't realized how deeply lost in thought he'd become, his mind still consumed with the sight of Jacobi and the endless possibilities of what might come next.
They had all returned to the room after the purge, the four of them forming a circle on the cold, hard floor. The room was dimly lit, casting long shadows across their faces. Malek, with his huge, terrifying red face, looked at Omen with a concerned smile. Despite his fearsome appearance, Malek's eyes held a rare softness, an unspoken camaraderie that came from surviving together against impossible odds. Omen turned to Kiba, who sat across from him. The small, once-timid boy had changed significantly. The fusion with the red wolf had altered him, his once-innocent features now marked by a certain hardness. His eyes glowed a fierce red.
"If we're going to take down your enemy, now's the last chance for a plan," Kiba continued, his voice steady, betraying none of the fear or hesitation he once showed.
Omen nodded slowly, refocusing his attention on the task at hand. The time for distraction was over. They had precious little time before the final purge, and every second counted. He knew that taking down Jacobi wouldn't be easy.
"According to the acolytes, the last purge is a team battle," Malek chimed in, his deep voice resonating through the room. "Fifteen members, three teams, five winners." He paused, his eyes narrowing slightly as he glanced suspiciously at Tame. "You're still under Anna's control, so we can't have you, Tame. But if you manage to survive and take out the enemy from within, we might consider you an external member."
Tame, who had been silent until now, gave a slight nod. His expression was unreadable, his loyalties unclear.
Omen's mind raced as he processed the information. Three teams meant they would face not just Jacobi but others as well. Each team would be desperate, driven by the singular goal of survival. The odds were stacked against them, but Omen had faced worse. His gaze hardened with determination.
"We need to figure out who's likely to be on Jacobi's team," Kiba said, his voice breaking the silence that had settled over the room. "He's not going to go in alone. If we can predict his strategy, we might be able to counter it."
"Anna's a wild card," Malek added. "She's cunning, manipulative. If she's on Jacobi's team, she'll play to her strengths—deception, subterfuge. But if she's not, she could be a threat to him as much as to us."
Kiba's eyes narrowed, his usually timid demeanor replaced by a sharp, dangerous glare. The red glow in his eyes intensified, a stark contrast to his previously meek appearance. "Tame, I think it's best you leave us," Kiba said, his voice cold and commanding. "You've betrayed us once, and you'll probably do it again."