The ruins of Ecliptora sprawled out before them like the skeleton of a forgotten world. Twisted spires jutted into the sky, their jagged edges casting eerie shadows across the cracked ground. Erwin followed the group, his eyes darting from one player to another, noting their composed expressions and deliberate movements. He felt out of place among these seasoned individuals, his own unease betrayed by the tension in his jaw.
"Stay sharp," one of the players, a woman clad in light armor, murmured. Her voice was steady, her gaze fixed ahead. "We're not the first ones here, and we won't be the last."
Her words confirmed Erwin's suspicion. This wasn't just a mission—it was a competition. He clutched the Vesperfangs at his sides, their weight a comforting reminder of his recent gains, though they did little to alleviate his self-doubt.
The System Initiative flickered in the corner of his vision, its minimalist interface providing a single line of information: "Objective: Retrieve the Oblivion Core. Survive."
That was it. No directions, no maps, no context.
"Typical," Erwin muttered under his breath.
The group pressed on, their footsteps echoing across the desolate landscape. The ruins seemed alive, the air heavy with an unspoken tension. Erwin couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched.
---
After what felt like an eternity of walking through the desolate streets, the group came to a halt in front of a massive stone structure. Its surface was etched with glowing runes, their pulsing light creating an ethereal glow in the growing twilight. At the center of the structure was a circular panel, its design intricate and otherworldly. The carvings around the panel seemed to shift and twist as if alive, reacting to the presence of the players.
"This must be it," said a tall man with a scar running down his cheek. He knelt to inspect the panel, his fingers tracing the glowing runes. "It's a lock—probably tied to the Core's location."
A woman with fiery red hair stepped forward, her eyes narrowing as she studied the mechanism. "It's a logic puzzle," she said, her tone clipped. "We need to arrange the runes in the correct order to unlock it."
Erwin kept his distance, watching as the players argued over the best approach. Their words were sharp, their confidence undeniable. He felt like an outsider looking in, his lack of experience glaringly obvious.
But then he noticed something—an inconsistency in the runes' glow. While the others debated, Erwin stepped closer, his gaze fixed on the panel. One of the runes was flickering, its light dimmer than the rest.
"Hey," he said, his voice cutting through the commotion. "That one's different. Maybe it's the key."
The players turned to him, their expressions a mix of annoyance and surprise. The red-haired woman crossed her arms. "And what makes you think that?"
Erwin hesitated. "I… just noticed it. It's worth a shot, right?"
The scarred man shrugged. "Can't hurt to try."
With a nod, he reached for the flickering rune and pressed it. The panel emitted a low hum, the runes shifting and rearranging themselves into a new pattern.
A door at the base of the structure slid open, revealing a dark passageway. The air that flowed out of the passage was cold and heavy, carrying with it the scent of mildew and something darker, something ancient.
"Well, I'll be damned," the scarred man said with a smirk. "Guess the rookie's got some eyes on him."
Erwin felt a small flicker of pride, though it was quickly overshadowed by the ominous feeling emanating from the passage. There was no telling what lay beyond it, but he had no choice but to follow.
The group moved cautiously through the passage, their weapons drawn and their senses on high alert. The walls were lined with ancient carvings, depicting scenes of battle and destruction. Erwin couldn't help but feel like they were walking into a trap.
The air grew colder as they descended, the silence oppressive. The only sound was the crunch of their footsteps against the gravel-strewn floor. He shivered, his breath coming out in visible puffs as the temperature dropped further.
"Quite in here, isn't it?" The red-haired woman muttered as she pulled a cigarette pack from her side bag.
Erwin, confused, said, "I don't think you should smoke in here. This place has an awful gas-like smell. You might blow us all up."
The woman raised her thumb in a mocking gesture and scuffed her boots against the floor. "And that's exactly why I'm about to smoke."
She instantly lit up her cigarette, and the entire area was engulfed in fire. Erwin instinctively took a step back, his heart racing in panic. The flames crackled, spreading rapidly through the narrow passage. But just as it seemed like they would all be incinerated, a protective barrier of magic materialized around them, shimmering with energy.
Erwin's heart pounded in his chest as he watched the firestorm rage around them, only to be contained by the scarred man's spell. He looked over at the red-haired woman, his eyes wide with shock.
"Uhh, are you scared of a little fire?" she taunted, blowing a puff of smoke toward him.
Erwin's voice was laced with anger. "Little? You almost killed us all, you crazy bitch!"
She smirked, seemingly unfazed by his reaction. "Relax, rookie. You'll get used to it. The fire's nothing compared to what we'll face ahead."
Before Erwin could respond, the air around them shifted. The environment had been altered by the blast, and the darkened walls around them seemed to come alive. Shadows danced along the edges of the room, coalescing into shapes that shouldn't have been possible. The temperature dropped even further, and an eerie, low whisper began to echo in the chamber.
In front of them, a shadow-like figure materialized. It had no definite form, no face, only an endless howl that seemed to tear at Erwin's mind. The void that surrounded it seemed to pulse with hunger.
Erwin darted his eyes toward the howling being. "What is that?" His voice trembled, but the players around him were oddly calm, their behavior betraying no fear.
The shadow figure moved fluidly, flowing like liquid, its presence unnerving in its stillness. The group reacted quickly, drawing their weapons and stepping into defensive positions. But it was Vai, the red-haired woman, who took the first strike. Flames erupted from her hand, coalescing into a blazing sword with no hilt. With a single, swift motion, she sliced through the shadow.
"You're a waste of my time," she muttered as the shadow dissolved into nothingness.
But even as the last remnants of the shadow figure faded, more began to emerge. The darkness around them thickened, spreading until it seemed to suffocate the very air. The shadows multiplied, splitting into more distinct shapes. They began to adopt humanoid forms—some with broad shoulders and strong jawlines, others with feminine features, larger breasts, and round faces. Their movements were fluid, unnaturally so, as if they were an extension of the darkness itself.
The shadows lunged toward them with unholy speed. The group sprang into action, weapons flashing in the dim light.
Vai was a blur of motion, her flame sword carving through the shadows like a hot knife through butter. The air around her shimmered with heat, turning the shadows to nothingness with every swing.
But the shadows kept coming, relentless and tireless. Erwin found himself face-to-face with one of the creatures. Its eyes burned like embers, its form shifting and twisting as it advanced on him with unnerving speed. He barely dodged its first strike, the edge of its arm-like appendage missing his throat by inches.
The creature's strikes were precise and unyielding. Erwin countered with his daggers, slicing through the creature's form, but it simply dissipated and reformed, its limbs lashing out again and again. The fight was a blur—he barely had time to think, only react.
"This isn't just a fight!" the red-haired woman shouted over the chaos. "We have to figure out how to stop them!"
Erwin's eyes darted toward the far corner of the room, where a pedestal stood. On top of it sat an orb, its glow pulsing in time with the whispers that filled the chamber. The shadows seemed to be drawn to it, circling around the pedestal like moths to a flame.
"It's the orb!" Erwin shouted. "We need to deactivate it!"
The scarred man nodded, his face grim. He broke away from the fight and sprinted toward the pedestal, but the moment his hand touched the orb, a surge of energy shot through him, knocking him backward.
"Damn it!" he snarled, clutching his chest. "It's protected by some kind of barrier!"
Erwin's mind raced. The carvings on the walls—they had to mean something. His gaze scanned the chamber, his heart pounding in his chest.
There—on the far wall, a carving of a hand reaching toward a glowing object. Surrounding it were symbols, familiar symbols, runes from the lock they had just unlocked.
"It's a sequence!" he shouted. "We need to replicate the pattern from the lock!"
The red-haired woman nodded, barking orders to the others as they fought to hold off the shadows. Erwin moved toward the pedestal, his mind working frantically to recall the sequence. The runes, the symbols—they had to line up.
With trembling hands, he traced the pattern onto the surface of the orb. The glow flickered, and for a brief moment, the whispers stopped. Then, with a low hum, the orb's light flickered out, and the shadows began to dissolve, their forms dissipating into nothingness.
The room fell eerily still.
"Not bad, rookie," the scarred man said, clapping Erwin on the back. But Erwin didn't respond. His gaze was fixed on the orb, its glow now faint but steady. This was only the beginning, and he knew it.