13th November, 3031 of Mana Calendar
Dusk settled over the village of Rustic Hollow like a threadbare blanket, casting long shadows across the freshly tilled fields. Callum, his sun-weathered face creased with exhaustion and satisfaction, turned to the group of villagers trudging beside him.
"Thanks for the hard work today, everyone," he said, wiping sweat from his brow with a dirt-stained sleeve. "Couldn't have done it without you all pulling together."
Grunts and tired chuckles answered him. Old Mara with her silver hair escaping a messy bun, patted Callum's arm. "Same time tomorrow, eh? These crops won't plant themselves."
As the group began to disperse, Callum caught sight of Finn, a lanky youth with a shock of red hair. "Hey, Finn," he called out, "seen my father around?"
Finn paused, squinting in thought. "Ah, the Chief? Heard he was heading to change the crystal for the beast repelling system. You know how he is, always fussing over that thing."
Callum nodded with a mix of pride and concern flickering across his face. "That I do. Thanks, Finn. Get some rest, yeah?"
They parted ways, Callum's boots crunching on the gravel path leading to the shed housing the repelling system with his thoughts wandering as he walked.
*Father's been working himself to the bone lately. Should probably cook him a proper meal one of these days. Maybe that rabbit stew he likes...*
A smile tugged at his lips, but it froze as soon as he rounded the corner. The shed door hung ajar, a dark smear visible on its weathered wood. Callum's pulse quickened as he approached with a dreaded feeling pooling in his gut.
"Father?" he called out, voice trembling.
No answer.
He pushed the door open, and the world shattered.
His father's body lay crumpled on the dirt floor with limbs bent at unnatural angles.Blood – so much blood – that it seeped into the painted runes, transforming their once soft blue glow into a sickly purple—spread across the ground and nearby stone tablets. The stench of copper and death assaulted Callum's nostrils.
A scream tore from his throat, raw and primal. He stumbled forward, falling to his knees beside the corpse. "No, no, no," he sobbed, hands hovering uselessly over his father's broken form.
He caught movement at the fringes of his vision. Callum's head snapped up, tears blurring his vision.
A figure emerged from the shadows of the shed. Tall. Dark clothes. A blade glinting dully in the fading light.
Callum opened his mouth, but no sound came out. The figure moved with terrifying speed.
The air seemed to part, a soft hiss barely audible as metal sliced through it.
And then, in a moment of surreal detachment, Callum saw himself. His own body, headless, crumpling to the ground beside his father. *This can't be real,* he thought, a distant part of his mind reeling in shock. *I'm still standing. I'm still—*
His consciousness flickered, like a candle guttering in the wind. Callum's last fragmented thoughts scattered:
*Father, I'm sorry—*
*The village, they need to be warned—*
*I never got to make that stew—*
Then nothing.
The stranger turned, wiping his blade clean on a scrap of cloth. His gaze drifted to a nearby grove, where five wide-eyed teenagers stood frozen in horror. They'd seen everything but it didn't matter.
Slowly, deliberately, the man's lips curled into a smile. A golden tooth caught what little light remained, gleaming like a promise of further violence.
Dried leaves crunched beneath Aric's feet as he tore through the forest, his lungs burning with each ragged breath. The bitter taste of fear coated his tongue. Behind him, he could hear the labored breathing of his friends – Lily, Owen, Bran, and Rowan – as they struggled to keep pace.
A sound rose above their panicked flight, a sound that didn't belong in these woods: laughter. Cruel, unhinged cackling sent shivers through Aric's body. The man – if he could still be called that – seemed to revel in their terror. Aric risked a glance back, just as explosions ripped through the air.
The ground beneath his feet trembled violently. Aric stumbled, catching himself on a rough-barked tree. His eyes widened in horror as fissures of sickly green light spider-webbed across the forest floor. gates began to warp. "How is that even possible."
"Run!" Aric screamed, his voice cracking. "Don't look back!"
But it was too late. The beasts began pouring out in hoards.
Aric's chest heaved as he sprinted towards the village with each breath becoming a struggle. The sounds behind them grew louder – inhuman howls mingling with continued explosions. The air itself seemed to thicken, heavy with the stench of sulfur and rot.
A massive shadow fell across their path prompting Aric to skid to a halt, his heart pounding so hard he feared it might actually burst. An ogre-like monstrosity loomed before them, spikes jutting grotesquely from its arms. Its milky eyes locked onto Owen.
Time seemed to slow to a crawl as Aric witnessed every single detail with horrifying clarity: Owen's mouth opening in a silent scream, the ogre's meaty hand closing around his torso, the sickening pop as Owen's spine gave way.
And then – Owen was gone. Torn in two with a wet, meaty sound that Aric knew would haunt his nightmares for years to come.
Bile rose in Aric's throat. His knees went weak, legs trembling violently as the beast turned its attention to them, Owen's blood still dripping from its claws.
"Move," Aric tried to say, but his voice came out as barely a whisper. Terror rooted him to the spot, muscles locked in place as the ogre took a lumbering step forward.
Suddenly, Aric felt himself being yanked backward. Rowan had him by the arm, pulling him away from the approaching monster. The movement snapped Aric out of his paralysis, and suddenly they were running again, crashing through the underbrush with reckless abandon.
The forest blurred around him, branches whipping at his face, leaving stinging welts. Aric's mind reeled, unable to process what he'd just witnessed. Owen. Gone. Just like that.
A flash of movement caught Aric's eye. Something whistled through the air –
Rowan stumbled beside him, a choked gasp escaping his lips. Aric turned, his stomach lurching at the sight of a massive spike protruding from Rowan's chest. Their eyes met for a brief, horrible moment. Confusion, pain, and then... nothing. Rowan crumpled to the ground, eyes already glazing over.
"No!" Aric screamed, but Bran's iron grip on his arm yanked him forward.
"We can't stop," Bran panted, tears streaming down his dirt-streaked face. "We can't help him."
They pushed on, Aric's legs feeling like lead, his lungs on fire. But they couldn't stop. They just couldn't.
Then Bran skidded to a halt so suddenly that Aric nearly collided with him. That's when Aric noticed it – the golden glow pulsing beneath Bran's skin. His luminar veins signifying he was ready to fight back.
"Keep running!" Bran yelled, his voice cracking with strain and fear.
Aric stopped, turned back. "No!" he shouted, desperation clawing at his chest. "Come with us!"
But Bran wasn't listening. Flames engulfed his arms, casting dancing shadows across his face. He stared down the path they'd come, at the monstrosities lumbering ever closer.
"Go!" Bran shouted, sparing one last glance at his friends. His eyes locked with Aric's, filled with a mix of terror and resolve. "Your sister is waiting for you. I'll... I'll be alright!"
The lie hung heavy in the air between them.
Aric wanted to argue, to drag Bran with them, but Lily's trembling hand found his. He looked down at her tear-stained face, then back at Bran. With a choked sob, he nodded once.
"Thank you and.. don't die," he whispered, knowing Bran couldn't hear him over the approaching chaos.
But Bran did hear him. "I'll try not to," he murmured to himself, before using fire to create a ring of flames circling the beasts.
"To get to them, you have to pass through me."
Aric grabbed Lily's hand, his vision blurred by tears as they ran. Each step crunched on the carpet of dried leaves, the sound feeling obscenely loud to Aric's ears, a constant reminder of how exposed they were.
The edge of the village came into view, but any relief Aric might have felt evaporated instantly. Rustic Hollow, his home, had become a hellscape. Buildings burned, casting an infernal glow across the night sky. Screams filled the air, punctuated by inhuman roars and the crash of collapsing structures.
Aric's eyes darted frantically, searching for a safe haven in the midst of the chaos. He spotted a huge, jutting rock formation at the village's edge. It wasn't much, but it was something.
He pushed Lily towards it, his voice hoarse as he commanded, "Hide. Get under there and don't come out. No matter what you hear, no matter what happens. Do you understand?"
Lily clutched his hand, her fingers digging into his skin. Her face was a mask of terror, eyes wide and pleading. Don't go, they seemed to beg silently
Aric swallowed hard, forcing his voice to be steady. "I'll be okay," he lied, hating himself for it. "I promise. But you have to stay hidden. For me. Please."
Lily nodded, her lower lip trembling. Aric helped her squeeze into a crevice beneath the rock, praying it would be enough. With one last look at his friend, he turned and plunged into the chaos of the village.
He weaved through the carnage, ducking and dodging. The streets he'd known all his life had become an alien landscape of fire and rubble. A beast – part wolf, part something nightmarish – lunged at him from the shadows of a burning house. Aric rolled, feeling the rush of air as claws barely missed his face.
He scrambled to his feet, only to come face-to-face with one of the ogre-like monsters. Its spiked arm lashed out. White-hot pain exploded through Aric's leg as a spike tore through flesh and muscle. He bit back a scream, the coppery taste of blood filling his mouth as he stumbled away.
Each step was agony, blood leaving a trail behind him. But he couldn't stop. He managed to slip past the beasts attention as it focused on another villager.
His house loomed ahead, miraculously still standing amidst the destruction. Aric limped faster, hope giving him a burst of speed. He burst through the door, calling out, "Emily! Emily, where are you?"
He found her huddled in a corner of the main room, hands pressed to her head. At the sound of his voice, she looked up with her tear-stained face while standing on shaky legs, taking a step towards him.
"Big bwoder," she breathed, reaching out.
Time seemed to slow as the Relief washed over her tear-stained face, quickly replaced by horror as she saw the flicker of movement behind Aric, the massive shape filling the doorway. She opened her mouth to shout a warning, but it was too late.
Pain. Blinding, all-consuming pain exploded through his chest. Aric looked down, uncomprehending, at the blood-slick spike protruding from his heart. The world tilted crazily as he was lifted off his feet, then tossed aside like a broken doll.
He crumpled to the floor, his body feeling impossibly heavy. Through dimming vision, he saw Emily's face contort in horror and grief.
Her scream cut through everything. It was more than sound – a physical force that radiated outward in a wave of pure, biting cold. The temperature plummeted in an instant, frost creeping across every surface with unnatural speed.
Aric watched, suspended between life and death, as the entire village was engulfed. Plants, animals, monsters, people – all were encased in a layer of ice. It was beautiful and terrible, a frozen tableau of the apocalypse.
Somehow, the ice avoided Aric, leaving him untouched in a small circle of thawing ground. With the last of his strength, he turned his head towards Emily.
His sister stood motionless, transformed into a crystal of flawless, transparent blue-tinted ice. Her face locked in an expression of sadness.
The edges of Aric's vision darkened, death's icy fingers closing around his heart. This is it, he thought. This is how it ends.
Then with a flash of blue flickering light. A translucent screen shimmered into existence before his failing eyes:
[SYSTEM ALERT: Initiating Emergency Protocol]
[WARNING: Premature Activation - Unforeseen Consequences Possible]
[Do you wish to accept?]
[YES / NO]
The world faded to black, sounds becoming muffled and distant. Aric clung to the last thread of his consciousness, aware that this moment – this choice – was monumental beyond his understanding probably because he was grasping at straws
With his final ounce of strength, clinging to thoughts of Emily, Aric made his choice. His lips didn't move, but his fading mind formed the word with perfect clarity:
"Yes."