Ronan stepped forward, his footsteps slow and deliberate. "Did you think you could hide from me forever?" His eyes gleamed with malice as he studied Dante. "You were always destined to fail."
Elara stepped forward, her gaze unwavering. "What do you want, Ronan?"
Ronan's laugh was low and sinister. "What do I want? I want everything. And now that you've come back, Elara, I think I finally have what I need."
A chill ran through the room as Ronan's words lingered in the air. His power was palpable, an oppressive force that seemed to suffocate everything around him.
Dante's eyes narrowed. "You think you've won?"
Ronan smiled, the expression twisted with satisfaction. "No, Dante. I haven't won yet. But I will. And you'll regret ever standing in my way."
The walls seemed to close in as Ronan raised his hand, a dark energy swirling around him. Elara stepped back, her fingers brushing against Dante's arm. The moment their skin touched, a surge of power passed between them—a force neither of them had anticipated.
"Elara," Dante said, his voice filled with urgency. "What's happening?"
She didn't answer. Her eyes were fixed on Ronan, her expression unreadable. "We have no choice. We fight."
Without warning, she raised her hand, a burst of light radiating from her palm, but Ronan was faster. A wave of dark energy erupted from him, sending them both crashing to the floor.
The last thing Dante saw before the world went black was Elara's eyes, filled with a strange mix of fear and determination.
The metallic tang of blood clung to the air as Lucas stumbled forward, his breaths shallow and labored. His hands were slick with crimson, but he didn't stop. He couldn't. Elira's voice echoed in his mind, her frantic whisper urging him forward.
"Find the key," she had said. "Before he does."
Behind him, the sound of heavy boots grew louder. The Harbingers were relentless, their pursuit a steady reminder of how far he had pushed them. Every step felt like a betrayal to the fear he refused to acknowledge.
Lucas rounded the corner, his shoulder brushing against the cold stone walls of the underground tunnels. A faint light glimmered ahead, a promise of escape—or perhaps a cruel illusion. He didn't care. He surged toward it, his pulse thundering in his ears.
Suddenly, a shadow moved to block his path. He skidded to a halt, his heart slamming against his ribs as a tall figure stepped forward.
"Arden," he breathed, relief and suspicion warring in his voice.
The rebel leader tilted his head, his piercing gaze scanning Lucas from head to toe. "You're late," Arden said, his tone sharp but not unkind.
"I didn't exactly have the luxury of taking the scenic route," Lucas snapped, trying to steady his breathing.
Arden's eyes narrowed, his expression unreadable. "And the key?"
Lucas hesitated, his fingers curling into fists. "I don't have it yet."
Arden's jaw tightened, but he said nothing. Instead, he turned sharply and gestured for Lucas to follow. "Come. We don't have time to waste."
Lucas hesitated, his instincts screaming at him to stay on guard. But he had no other choice. He fell into step behind Arden, his thoughts racing.
They walked in silence, the only sounds the distant drip of water and the faint hum of electricity from hidden wires. The tunnels stretched endlessly, their walls marked with symbols Lucas couldn't decipher.
"Where are we going?" he finally asked, his voice low.
Arden didn't look back. "Somewhere safe—for now."
Lucas wasn't convinced. He could feel the weight of the walls pressing in on him, the shadows shifting as if alive. His thoughts flickered back to Elira's warning, her voice trembling as she spoke of the dangers ahead.
"You're hiding something," Lucas said, his tone accusing.
Arden stopped abruptly, turning to face him. His eyes were cold, calculating. "We're all hiding something, Zaire. The question is whether your secrets are more dangerous than mine."
Lucas held his ground, his jaw clenched. "You know what's at stake. If we don't find the key, everything—"
"I know," Arden interrupted, his voice cutting through the air like a blade. "But you're not the only one risking everything here. Remember that."
Before Lucas could respond, a deafening roar echoed through the tunnels. The ground trembled beneath their feet, and a cascade of dust rained down from the ceiling.
Arden's expression darkened. "They've found us."
"Who?" Lucas demanded, his chest tightening.
"Them," Arden said grimly, his hand moving to the hilt of his blade.
From the darkness ahead, a group of figures emerged, their faces obscured by masks. Their movements were unnaturally fluid, their eyes glowing faintly in the dim light.
"Harbingers," Lucas muttered, his blood running cold.
Arden drew his weapon, the blade gleaming ominously. "Stay close. And whatever you do, don't let them touch you."
Lucas didn't need to be told twice. He reached for his own weapon, the weight of it familiar and reassuring in his grip.
The first Harbinger lunged forward, its movements inhumanly fast. Arden met it head-on, his blade slicing through the air with deadly precision.
Lucas barely had time to react as another figure rushed toward him. He dodged to the side, his weapon coming up instinctively. The clash of metal echoed through the tunnel as he fought to hold his ground.
But the Harbingers were relentless, their strength and speed unmatched. Lucas felt his arms growing heavy, his breaths coming in ragged gasps.
"Lucas!" Arden's voice cut through the chaos. "The exit—go!"
Lucas hesitated, his instincts warring with his sense of duty. But one look at Arden's fierce expression was enough to make up his mind.
He turned and ran, the sounds of battle fading behind him. The tunnels twisted and turned, the dim light barely enough to guide his way.
Finally, he burst into an open chamber, the air thick with an unnatural energy. At the center of the room stood a pedestal, and atop it rested a small, intricately carved key.
Lucas's heart raced as he approached, his hand trembling as he reached for the key.
But before he could touch it, a voice echoed through the chamber, cold and taunting.
"Did you really think it would be that easy?"
Lucas spun around, his eyes widening as Viktor Falcom stepped out of the shadows, a cruel smile playing on his lips.
"Viktor," Lucas hissed, his grip tightening on his weapon.