Zane stood over Gideon, the ruined city's ash swirling around them like a shroud, the blood-red sky casting a grim pallor over his mentor's pale face. The disc hung lifeless on his chest, its silence a heavy weight, while Veyra's tendrils lashed the air, her silhouette framed by the jagged rift. Stability at 0%, his HUD confirmed, the suit's systems offline, leaving him exposed and vulnerable. Armor integrity at 40%, it added, a stark reminder of his fragile state.
"Get behind me, kid," Gideon rasped, his voice weak but firm, pushing himself up despite the blood soaking his side. His broken staff trembled in his grip, the green glow faint, a shadow of its former strength. Zane hesitated, his heart pounding, but nodded, dragging Gideon back toward a crumbled wall, the stone rough against his hands. Veyra's laugh cut through the stillness, cold and mocking, sending a chill down his spine.
"You're out of time," she said, her voice echoing off the shattered buildings, tendrils coiling like snakes. She stepped forward, her armor gleaming with an oily sheen, runes pulsing with a sinister light that matched the rift's glow. Zane's mind raced, the loss of the disc's power leaving him defenseless, his repulsors dead. What do I do?
He scanned the ruins, spotting a glint of metal—a discarded weapon, maybe a chance. "Stay here," he whispered to Gideon, who grunted in protest but slumped against the wall, his breathing shallow. Zane darted forward, ash kicking up around his boots, and grabbed the object—a rusted energy rifle, its charge faint but promising. His HUD pinged: Weapon detected. Power: 15%.
Veyra's tendrils struck, one grazing his arm with a searing pain, the impact cracking his armor further. Integrity at 35%. He fired, the rifle's blast weak but enough to force her back, the energy sizzling against her shield. Gideon coughed, a wet sound that twisted Zane's gut, but managed a weak wave of energy from his staff, distracting her. "Keep going!" Gideon shouted, his voice fading.
Zane ducked behind a fallen pillar, the rifle humming in his hands, its weight unfamiliar but steadying. Veyra advanced, tendrils lashing, one smashing the pillar with a thunderous crack, forcing him to roll. He fired again, the blast hitting her shoulder, her armor sparking but holding. Her eyes narrowed, fury blazing, and she raised both hands, the rift widening with a groan.
The ground shook, ruins collapsing as more creatures poured out, their forms twisted and snarling, eyes glowing red. Zane's heart sank, the rifle's power dropping to 10%. He glanced at Gideon, who struggled to stand, blood pooling beneath him, and felt a surge of anger. Not like this, he thought, gripping the weapon tighter.
He charged, dodging tendrils, firing at the creatures to clear a path. The rifle's blast took down two, their shrieks echoing, but the horde pressed on. Lira's face flashed in his mind, her courage a spark, and he pushed harder, reaching Gideon. "We're getting out," he said, hauling him up, the old man's weight a burden he refused to drop.
Veyra laughed, her tendrils coiling around them, lifting them off the ground. "You're mine," she hissed, her grip tightening, the rifle slipping from Zane's hands. He struggled, the disc sparking faintly, a desperate pulse reigniting it. Stability at 1%. The energy jolted through him, and he aimed the disc's weak power at the rift, a final gamble.
The blast hit, the rift shuddering, its edges fraying. Veyra screamed, her hold loosening, and Zane fell, dragging Gideon with him. The city trembled, a new rift tearing open beneath them, swallowing them as Veyra's furious shout faded into the ash.
Zane landed in a desert, the sand soft but scorching, the rift snapping shut with a hiss. Gideon lay beside him, unconscious, his breathing faint but steady. Stability at 1%, his HUD whispered, the disc's glow a mere flicker. Armor integrity at 30%.
He checked Gideon, pressing a hand to the wound, the blood warm against his gloves. "Hang on," he muttered, his voice breaking, the weight of their escape sinking in. His HUD scanned: Location: Unknown desert. Atmospheric composition: 78% nitrogen, 21% oxygen. Temperature: 48°C. The heat beat down, the horizon shimmering, a harsh contrast to the city's ruin.
A shadow moved, and Zane tensed, the disc powerless. A figure approached—tall, cloaked, their face hidden—carrying a staff that glowed faintly green. "You're persistent," the figure said, voice rough but familiar. Zane's heart leaped. "Gideon?" he asked, but the figure shook their head.
"I'm not him," they said, lowering the hood to reveal a woman, her eyes sharp and weathered. "I'm Kael. This desert hides a sanctuary—and a weapon against her." She glanced at the rift's fading scar, her expression grim. Zane's hope flickered, but the ground rumbled, a new tremor signaling danger.
He looked at Gideon, then at Kael, his resolve hardening. "Help him," he said, the disc pulsing weakly as shadows stirred in the distance. Not done yet, he thought, bracing for the next fight.