Apocalypse: The echoes of Madness

He reached for the gaslight in his pocket, but it was long gone.

And so, Zane's strategy changed. The fight would no longer be about defeating the guardian. No, it would be about surviving. Surviving long enough to find its weakness, to outlast it, and perhaps, with enough time, find a way to trap it—if such a thing were even possible.

Zane's eyes narrowed, and he exhaled a sharp breath, his focus sharpening. He couldn't afford to falter.

With a single step, the guardian lunged at him, its massive, shadowy claws tearing through the air. Zane was already moving, his body instinctively reacting to the creature's movements. He ducked under its strike, the razor-sharp tips of its claws missing him by inches. The ground where they passed shattered, cracks running like veins through the earth.

Zane's grip on the blade tightened. He wouldn't have long before the next strike came. His eyes locked onto the flickering shadows that formed around the guardian's figure, searching for any hint of vulnerability.

The guardian screeched, a sound that clawed at Zane's eardrums, as tendrils of darkness lashed out like serpents. One struck him across the chest, sending a jolt of pain through his body as the shadow siphoned his strength, pulling the very essence of his life force into the void.

Zane staggered, his knees buckling for a moment, but then his eyes snapped open, his determination returning. His body might feel weak, but his mind was sharp. He couldn't let this thing break him.

As the guardian closed in again, Zane reached deep within himself, the coldness of the dark void whispering in his ears, trying to tear at his resolve. But he resisted it. His focus locked in on the light of his blade, the flickering glow that seemed to fight back the shadows.

He lunged forward, his every muscle protesting, but his will pushing him onward. The blade cut through the darkness, slicing into the core of the shadow guardian once more. It hissed, recoiling, but as expected, the wound healed almost instantly.

Zane cursed under his breath. He was tiring, but so was the creature, he could feel it. The battle wasn't about power—it was about endurance, about outlasting the endless cycle of regeneration.

The guardian's eyes, if they could be called that, were gleaming with malice, but Zane saw something else now. A flicker, a brief shift in the way the shadows moved. The creature wasn't infallible; it was just...persistent. The cracks in its form were growing wider, the energy it consumed more desperate.

He had no illusions about what would happen next. This fight would go on until neither of them could continue, but Zane was determined. He would wear it down. And when the time came, he would strike with everything he had left.

Suddenly, Zane heard a deafening noise reverberate through the air, distant yet sharp enough to pierce his focus. His chest tightened as a voice—Cale's voice—rose above the chaos, screaming his name with raw desperation. The urgency in the call was unmistakable, like a beacon slicing through the darkness.

What he saw made his breath hitch, his pulse pounding like a war drum.The scene was chaos—a whirlwind of movement and dread. Zane's stomach dropped as he processed the horror before him.

His momentary distraction, however, cost him dearly. The shadow guardian moved with deadly precision, its massive, clawed hand slicing through the air like a blade. Before Zane could fully react, the strike connected. Agony tore through him as the force sent him hurtling backward, his body coll

The force of the strike sent Zane flying, his back slamming into the jagged stone wall of the temple. A sharp gasp escaped him as pain exploded through his chest, the metallic taste of blood flooding his mouth. He tried to push himself up, but his body protested, every nerve screaming in torment.

The shadow guardian loomed above him, its towering figure a monstrous silhouette against the dim light. Its glowing, malevolent eyes bore down on him, its presence suffocating, oppressive. Zane's vision blurred for a moment, the world spinning as his strength wavered.

---

Rose's eyes widened for a fraction of a second, but her grip only tightened. "Don't say that," she snapped, her voice sharp with concern.

But before either of them could react further, the shadows below surged like a living thing, a clawed, blackened tendril reaching out and wrapping around Emily's leg. Her scream pierced the air as the force yanked her downward.

"Emily!" Rose shrieked, her voice raw with panic. She held on with all her might, her body jerking forward, but the pull was too strong. Emily's fingers slipped through Rose's grasp, their hands parting in a final, desperate stretch.

"Rose!" Emily cried, tears streaming down her face as she was dragged into the suffocating darkness.

Rose lunged after her, screaming her name over and over, her arms flailing toward the abyss as if sheer willpower alone could bring Emily back. She was about to throw herself into the void when Arthur and James grabbed her from behind, pulling her back with all their strength.

"Let me go!" Rose screamed, thrashing against their hold, her face twisted with anguish. "She's still there! I can save her!"

"Rose, stop!" Arthur shouted, his voice breaking as he held her tight. His own eyes glistened with unshed tears, his grip trembling.

James's jaw was clenched, his face pale as he fought to keep his composure. But his voice cracked as he said, "Emily... she's gone, Rose. We have to move!"

"No!" Rose sobbed, her entire body trembling as she collapsed against them. "We can't just leave her! She's—she's not gone! She can't be!"

Arthur and James exchanged a look, their own grief etched into their faces. They didn't say another word; they couldn't. Instead, they tightened their hold on Rose and began moving away from the collapsing floor, dragging her along as the temple groaned and shifted around them.

Rose's cries echoed through the corridor, raw and heart-wrenching. Arthur's face was a mask of silent pain, while James's trembling hand reached up to wipe at his face, as if denying his own tears.

The temple seemed to mock them with every sound—the whispering shadows, the groaning stone, the faint, haunting echo of Emily's scream reverberating in their ears.

As they ran, Rose's voice faltered, reduced to broken murmurs of Emily's name. Her hands clawed at the air as if she could pull her friend back from the darkness by force alone.

But the abyss had claimed Emily, and there was nothing they could do to change it.

Silent and shattered, the group pressed on, the weight of loss crushing their hearts. The temple had taken its first victim, and its malice lingered in the air, promising that it wasn't done yet.

The three of them approached the massive door, their steps cautious but filled with a sense of urgency. In front of it stood three monstrous guards, their grotesque forms illuminated by the faint, flickering light of the temple's eerie glow. The air was thick with malice, and the oppressive aura of the room made every breath feel heavier than the last.

Rose's heart sank as she quickly pieced it together. This was it—the heart of the temple. And Lily was inside.

A warning flashed before her eyes:

[Warning. Warning.]

[10 minutes before Lily's sacrifice.]

James and Arthur exchanged a grim look, their jaws set with determination. They didn't need words to understand what had to be done.

James stepped forward, cracking his knuckles as his eyes locked onto the monstrous guards. His expression was hard, filled with anger and grief. "We'll handle them," he said firmly, his voice low but resolute.

Arthur grabbed Rose's arm, his grip firm but not unkind. "You go inside," he said quickly, his voice steady despite the chaos swirling around them. "Find Lily. Stop the ritual. We'll deal with this."

Rose's eyes widened in disbelief. "No! I'm not leaving you both out here!"

But before she could argue further, the monsters roared and charged toward them. James launched himself at one of the creatures with raw, unyielding force, his strength shaking the ground beneath them. Arthur turned back to Rose, dragging her toward the door.

"Arthur, no!" Rose shouted, struggling against his grip, but he was stronger.

Arthur shoved her through the door and slammed it shut behind her, locking it from the outside.

"Arthur!" "James!" Rose screamed, pounding on the door. "Open it! Come inside! Don't do this!"

Her voice cracked with desperation, but the only response was the sound of the battle raging outside. The clash of metal and the guttural roars of the monsters filled the air, each sound making her chest tighten with fear and helplessness.

Tears blurred her vision as she leaned against the door, trembling. "Please..." she whispered, her voice breaking.

But no one answered.

Slowly, Rose turned, wiping her face with trembling hands. The room before her was dimly lit, and the air felt colder than it had outside. Her eyes fell on the center of the chamber, where a stone coffin rested on a raised platform.

Her gaze locked on the stone coffin at the center of the chamber. Lily lay within, dressed in a pure white gown that glowed faintly under the dim, unnatural light. The sight made Rose's chest tighten. The stillness of Lily's form, the way her eyes were covered with a strip of white cloth, filled the air with a dreadful finality.

There were no priests. No guards. Just Lily.

The silence was deafening, amplifying the faint hum of the screen that flickered before Rose's eyes:

[Warning. Warning.]

[9 minutes before Lily's sacrifice.]

Rose staggered forward, her heart pounding, each second feeling like a lifetime. Her hands clenched into fists, trembling as she fought back the surge of emotions threatening to overwhelm her.

"Lily..." Rose whispered, her voice cracking.

She fell to her knees beside the coffin, her hands hovering over Lily's still form. Her lips pressed into a thin line, and her teeth clenched as tears streamed down her face. "You're not dying here. I won't let them take you."

The screen flickered again, brighter this time, as if mocking her:

[Warning. Warning.]

[8 minutes before Lily's sacrifice.]

Rose's eyes burned with defiance. She placed her hands on the edge of the coffin, her mind racing. She had no plan, no clear way to stop what was happening, but she refused to give up.

The room seemed to hum with an unseen energy,as if the temple itself waiting for her to act—or fail.

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(To be continued)

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