The sky, darkened to unnatural clouds boiling above, sent thick and heavy layers smothering the golden rays of the sun. Chilly winds ran across the open battlefield, whipping up whispers as if of things ancient-somethings long beyond mortal souls. The disciples of the Eternal Dao Sect squared their shoulders with eyes scanning all horizons awaiting what they felt was bound to come. They had their whole lives to prepare for this, but it would appear even now that was not enough to bear the weight of what lay before them.
Jason exhaled, his hands clenching on his sword as he set himself. His heart raced in his chest, but his breath was calm. The Chaos Sovereign inheritance stirred within him, reacting to the rising tension in the air. He could feel the power grow inside, an ancient wild force which would carry him to victory or utterly consume him. The mantle of responsibility weighed upon his shoulders, but there was no time for self-doubt. This was no battle; it was the first real war of their generation. The one that was going to shape the future.
Diane was standing at his side, her golden eyes flashing with untamed power. The aura of the Forsaken Empress pulsed around her, coldly elegant, and sent shivers down even her allies' spines. She had accepted her inheritance, but in the way she carried herself lay something dangerous: something that mesmerized and terrified. She was in control of the power running through her, but even Jason could feel that this danger inside her had only just begun to wake. She was into her role, but at what cost, nobody knew.
"Stay close," Jason murmured to her, low and full of determinations. Diane met his gaze, a hint of a smile playing on her lips.
"Always," she said, her voice sure and unwavering, as if she had seen this coming a long time past.
Lucas stood beside them, his lightning crackling around his arms, his eyes sharp. Mary stood next to him, her face a mask of calm determination. Victor, the mountain of muscle and force, clutched his huge war hammer in an unbending grasp, while Cindy, ever-calculating, channeled all her charms into a strong, guarded spell to defend herself against the onslaught that was bound to come. Joe buckled his daggers more securely, his mind racing with every strike and every possible way he could use his enemy's weaknesses against him. His remaining companions stood alert, their trainings and experiences leading up to this moment. They were no sect, they were a family-bonded together by this mission and by unshaken loyalty.
Then-it happened.
A ripple of distortion tore through the air, seeming to rip at reality itself. The world shook as a shrill hum pierced the atmosphere. Jason's heart skipped a beat as the air seemed to fill with darkness. His eyes narrowed as figures started to take shape from the distortion. The very earth beneath their feet shook.
The Dark Apostles had come.
Dark silhouettes materialized out of the distortion, carrying with themselves an aura that wailed death and annihilation. While retaining humanoid outlines, they were disgustingly long, their skin eerie, void-like black, as if they sucked in whatever light was around them. Their eyes-things of glowing crimson-held absolutely no room for mercy or emotion within them. It was an unnatural presence, one that sent fear even into the hearts of the most seasoned warriors. These were not entities but the manifestations of destruction itself.
Jason's heart was racing in his chest as he stepped forward. The Chaos Sovereign energy flared within him, reacting to the threat before them. The leader of the Dark Apostles stepped forward, towering over the others, draped in dark, ethereal robes that flickered between existence and nothingness. His presence itself seemed to have the very air shudder into a mass that seemed to cringe, even the very weft of reality bending to the man's will. Jason yelled internally, frozen in place while his eyes did not move away from the chieftain.
"Mortal champions," it spoke in a voice that was less sound than cold vibration in the mind, yet no less harsh to the ear. It didn't have a trace of warmth, compassion, or anything, except the promise of annihilation. "You have interfered where you should not. This world was never meant to stand."
Jason's eyes narrowed, the spark of defiance flared to life in his chest. "Then you don't know us at all," he said in a low tone, but one full of conviction. "We're not here to stand. We're here to fight."
The Apostle leader cocked its head to one side, seeming to weigh its words. "And so, you will perish."
Without warning, the battle erupted.
A wave of black energy exploded from the Apostles, washing over them like a tidal wave. Jason barely had time to react before his Chaos Barrier went up-a powerful shield that shoved the malevolent force backward. The others sprang into action at once, moving with surety of foot and sense of purpose, driven by training and instinct.
Lucas sprang forward, his Mastrova Lightning bursting into a blaze of life as he clashed with one of the Apostles. The lightning roared like a tempest as it struck the dark form of the Apostle. That creature barely flinched, parried the attack with a dark, clawed hand, then swooped in with a vicious swipe. The grin spreading on his lips, his eyes shone bright with the thrill of battle. This was only just beginning. He would not back down.
Mary moved in perfect synchrony with him, a devastating crescent arc of blade slicing through the air. Forced to go on the defensive, the Apostle was pushed back and back by her onslaught, each movement fluid and exact as she pressed the attack.
Joe suddenly vanished into the shadows, and his form disappeared from view, only to reappear behind yet another Apostle with his dagger pressed against its throat. That Apostle in turn twists with an inhuman quickness in time to catch his blade upon a single finger. There was a widening of the eyes for a fraction of a second before training takes over. In an instant, he twists, a secondary attack launching high and aimed for the joints.
Victor roared, charging in and swinging his enormous war hammer with the force of an earthquake. The earth cracked and splintered beneath him as he came into contact with his opponent, but the Apostle just absorbed it, seemingly not fazed. Cindy was already moving, her hands weaving a spell that increased the next of Victor's blows tenfold. The Apostle stumbled, its senses reeling from the excess force.
Diane, on the other hand, was a force unto herself. Power coursed through the Forsaken Empress like a storm. With but a flick of her fingers, she had frozen a whole section of the battlefield, encasing their enemies in ice. Frost tendrils crept up the limbs of the Apostles, trapping them in a prison of cold. But even now, the Apostles adapted. Their bodies shining and rippling with unnatural colour, then they shattered in ice, in that one second: one of them appeared behind her, its hooked claw reaching at her throat.
Jason's instincts screamed as he saw the threat. In but an instant, he was already there, his sword meeting the Apostle's claw in a violent clash that shook the air. Their gazes met, and Jason felt it-this enemy was stronger than anything they had ever faced.
But he gritted his teeth. Stronger? Fine. He would surpass them.
With a powerful push, he sent the Apostle backward and, with a sudden burst of the Chaos Sovereign flames surrounding his body, ignited his sword: the very air itself was ablaze as he shot a stream of strikes-in each, his aim was to break through the Apostle's defenses.
Back of the battlefield, Joyner closed his eyes and turned to his Seer capabilities. His mind, already a complete topography of this battlefield, instinctively revealed when the attack needed to come out. Psysically informing his comrades about this, his orders wove a tapestry through the anarchy with surreal preciseness. He ordered Raymond to create small alchemical explosions and combined mixtures of fire-and-lightning-type materials, driving the Apostles into more disfavorable positions. At the same time, Lillian supplied counter-systems, while deconstructing Apostles' movement in her brain in real life and revising their on-spot tactics on-the-go.
Sharpshooter Ben took to the high ground, and with the wind aspect in his arrows, he began to rain them down, each one bringing death with extreme accuracy and breaking up the Apostles' formation as they scattered. Janet and Jessica worked together-casting powerful protection spells that would ensure none of their comrades were out of guard from sudden attacks.
It was an incredibly heavy, intense, and ruthless fight. The Dark Apostles were brutal beyond humanity, with impossible bends in their bodies and a strike of annihilation energy enough to delete everything. And the Eternal Dao Sect resisted strongly: in a powerful alliance and unity that could stand strong in these conditions, which nobody else would.
Jason's Chaos Blade tore through space itself, his strikes creating tears in the very fabric of reality. Diane's Empress Energy twisted the very laws of nature, bending them to her whim. Lucas's Lightning Domination turned the battlefield into a storm-torn wasteland, bolts of electricity raking across the sky. United, they stemmed the Dark Apostles' advance, but all knew this was far from over.
And then-the Apostle leader moved.
In one step, it was in front of Jason, faster than he could react. Its clawed hand was extended towards him, and before Jason could even raise his sword, the Apostle's palm smacked against his chest. It sent Jason flying backward, slamming him through many stone formations. The power in the strike sent his breath from his lungs, and for an instant, the world blurred together.
The leader of the Apostles loomed over him, its eyes aglow with a cold, indifferent evil.
"Pathetic," it whispered, its voice like death itself.
Diane's eyes flashed hot with anger. She lunged and disappeared, flashing back into existence just above the Apostle as her palm flared with that strange golden light. "Do not underestimate us," she growled, her hand falling.
A cataclysmic explosion of power went off, shaking the very fabric of reality. The battlefield was bathed in white-hot light, the force of the blast sending shockwaves across the field.
As the dust began to settle, Jason groaned, forcing himself to his feet. His body ached, but he refused to fall. His fingers tightened around his blade, and grim determination settled over him. This was far from over.
And he was just getting warmed up.