AS THEY SPRINTED, THE GIANT BEHIND THEM PLANTED ITSELF IN FRONT OF ONE OF THE CRUSHING MACHINES, USING ITS BODY TO BLOCK THE WAY AND BUY PRECIOUS SECONDS FOR THE OTHERS. THERE WAS NO ESCAPE FOR IT, ITS SACRIFICE WAS FINAL. THE REST OF THE SQUAD PRESSED ON, HEARTS HEAVY, KNOWING THAT THEIR FALLEN COMRADE WOULD NEVER RETURN.
THE ROAD AHEAD WAS LONG, BUT BASTIAN'S DETERMINATION BURNED HOTTER THAN THE FIRES SURROUNDING HIM. THE MACHINE MIGHT BE INVINCIBLE, BUT SO WAS THEIR RESOLVE.
BASTIAN CLOSED HIS EYES, TAKING A MOMENT TO STEADY HIMSELF. HE DIDN'T EVEN KNOW THE NAME OF THE ONE WHO HAD SACRIFICED THEMSELVES. ANOTHER SOUL LOST TO THE UNFORGIVING WAR MACHINE, ANOTHER NAMELESS HERO FALLEN TO BUY THEM A FEW MORE MOMENTS.
TOO MANY HAD FALLEN. EACH STEP FORWARD IN THIS HOSTILE WORLD DEMANDED A HEAVY PRICE, AND LIFE HAD BECOME THE CURRENCY BY WHICH THEY PAID.
A PAINED CRY RIPPED THROUGH THE AIR.
"AHHHH!"
BASTIAN'S EYES SNAPPED OPEN, JUST IN TIME TO SEE ANOTHER DRAGON PLUMMETING FROM THE SKY, ITS SCALES GLITTERING IN THE BEAMS OF LIGHT THAT PIERCED ITS BODY. THE WAR MACHINE, TITANIC, RELENTLESS, STRUCK DOWN DRAGON AFTER DRAGON, ITS MANY LIMBS REGENERATING AS FAST AS THEY COULD BE DAMAGED. TOO MANY SAGE STONES POWERED ITS INFERNAL CORE, GRANTING IT THE ABILITY TO HEAL, UNSTOPPABLE AND ETERNAL.
BASTIAN HAD MADE THE RIGHT CALL, HE KNEW THAT MUCH, BUT IT WAS A BITTER, BRUTAL KIND OF CORRECTNESS. EVERY DRAGON, EVERY ALLY, SACRIFICED TO KEEP THIS MONSTROUS MACHINE DISTRACTED.
"SISTER NANA..."
HIS VOICE BARELY ABOVE A WHISPER, BASTIAN'S MIND WANDERED FOR A MOMENT, THINKING OF THE FACES LOST IN THE CARNAGE. THIS ENEMY, THIS MONSTROSITY, WAS INVINCIBLE. THERE WAS NO WINNING HERE, ONLY DELAY. BUT THE LONGER THEY DELAYED, THE MORE THEY LOST. HOW MANY MORE LIVES WOULD THIS COST?
BASTIAN CLENCHED HIS FISTS, BURYING HIS ANGER DEEP. HE COULDN'T AFFORD EMOTIONS NOW. HE HAD TO FOCUS, FOCUS ON THE NEXT MOVE, ON SURVIVAL.
"WE'RE CLOSE, ALMOST THERE!" HE URGED, PUSHING HIS LEGS TO MOVE FASTER, LEADING HIS TEAM TOWARD THE ONLY THING THAT COULD TURN THE TIDE.
AT LAST, THEY REACHED THE BOTTOM OF THE FURNACE, AND BEFORE THEM STOOD THEIR GOAL: THE FIRE OF ORIGIN, A GLOWING, PULSING FLAME OF CREATION. THE WARM LIGHT DANCED IN THE OPPRESSIVE DARKNESS, THE PROMISE OF HOPE IN THIS NIGHTMARE.
BUT STANDING BEFORE THE FLAME WAS SOMETHING THAT FROZE BASTIAN IN HIS TRACKS.
"NO... NO WAY!" HE GASPED. "THE SAGE? HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE?"
THE HOODED FIGURE, UNMISTAKABLE EVEN AT A DISTANCE. BASTIAN HAD SEEN THAT STATUE HUNDREDS OF TIMES IN THE ELF TRIBE. IT COULDN'T BE ANYONE ELSE, YET HOW COULD HE BE HERE, IN THIS PLACE, AT THIS TIME?
THE TEAM BEHIND HIM FALTERED, UNEASE GROWING INTO FEAR AS THEY TOOK IN THE FIGURE'S SILENT VIGIL OVER THE FLAMES. THE ONCE-UNSHAKABLE ELITE NOW FELT THE WEIGHT OF DESPAIR.
"THIS… THIS CAN'T BE HIM," BASTIAN MURMURED. "IF IT WAS, HE WOULDN'T HAVE LET US GET THIS FAR. HE WOULD HAVE WIPED US OUT LONG AGO."
A TEAMMATE SPOKE UP, VOICE TREMBLING. "A HOST SOUL? A CLONE, MAYBE? WHATEVER IT IS, WE DON'T HAVE A CHOICE. WE HAVE TO GO FOR IT."
BASTIAN NODDED, HIS RESOLVE HARDENING. THE TIME FOR FEAR HAD PASSED. WHATEVER THIS BEING WAS, THEY COULDN'T AFFORD TO HESITATE. IT WAS DO OR DIE.
THE FIGURE REMAINED STILL FOR ONLY A MOMENT LONGER BEFORE ITS EYES FLARED TO LIFE, GLOWING A TERRIFYING BLOOD-RED. THE SIGHT SENT A CHILL DOWN BASTIAN'S SPINE, A COLOR THAT SPOKE OF RAGE, POWER, AND INEVITABILITY.
THEN THE GROUND TREMBLED.
WITHOUT WARNING, THE ENTIRE UNDERGROUND CHAMBER ERUPTED INTO FLAMES. HELL ITSELF SEEMED TO HAVE OPENED UP BENEATH THEM, TURNING EVERYTHING INTO A SEA OF FIRE.
---
"HMM? MY PUPPET CLONE'S BEEN ACTIVATED?"
ELSEWHERE, IN A BATTLEFIELD FAR MORE DESPERATE, THE SKY HAD TWISTED INTO A NIGHTMARISH SCENE. THE SUN HAD VANISHED, ITS LIGHT SWALLOWED BY BLACK HOLES THAT HOVERED IN THE HEAVENS, DISTORTING REALITY ITSELF. THIS WAS A WORLD ON THE EDGE OF OBLIVION, WHERE EVEN THE LAWS OF NATURE HAD BROKEN DOWN.
THE LAND HAD BEEN TORN APART, VAST CHASMS SPLITTING THE EARTH WHERE ONCE THERE HAD BEEN PLAINS. THE AFTERMATH OF FORBIDDEN SPELLS HAD LEFT THEIR MARK, TWISTING THE VERY FABRIC OF THE WORLD.
HERE, A TITANIC BATTLE RAGED BETWEEN A COLOSSAL WAR GOD AND THE SAGE HIMSELF. THE SAGE PAUSED FOR A FLEETING MOMENT, DISTRACTED BY THE ACTIVATION OF HIS CLONE ELSEWHERE. IT WAS ALL THE OPENING HIS OPPONENT NEEDED.
"BOOM!"
A DEAFENING CRASH ECHOED AS ION, THE WAR GOD, BROUGHT DOWN HIS MASSIVE SWORD, SHATTERING THE CLIFF BENEATH THE SAGE AND TURNING THE ROCK TO DUST. BUT EVEN AS THE DEBRIS SETTLED, THE SAGE SLOWLY FLOATED BACK INTO THE AIR, UNHARMED.
HIS CRIMSON EYES NARROWED AS HE CONSIDERED HIS OPTIONS, THE CLONE'S ACTIVATION WEIGHING ON HIS MIND. ACROSS THE BATTLEFIELD, THE LEADERS OF VARIOUS RACES FOUGHT WITH ALL THEIR MIGHT, EACH A FORCE TO BE RECKONED WITH IN THEIR OWN RIGHT, AND EVEN THE SAGE KNEW HE COULDN'T AFFORD TO DIVIDE HIS ATTENTION FOR LONG.
"NO MATTER WHAT VERMIN HAS CRAWLED INTO MY PUPPET'S LAIR," HE MUTTERED, HIS VOICE ICY, "THE AUTOMATIC DEFENSE SYSTEMS WILL BE MORE THAN ENOUGH TO DEAL WITH THEM."
WITH THAT, THE SAGE REFOCUSED ON THE BATTLE AT HAND, LEAVING HIS CLONE TO HANDLE WHATEVER HAD DARED TO DISTURB THE FLAMES OF CREATION.
SEIZING THIS FLAME. THE CASTER POSSESSED AN EXTRAORDINARY ABILITY: HE COULD CREATE CLONES OF HIMSELF.
NORMALLY, THESE CLONES WIELDED ONLY A FRACTION, PERHAPS A THIRD OR EVEN LESS, OF THE ORIGINAL'S COMBAT POWER. CONSIDERING THE IMMENSE DRAIN ON MAGICAL ENERGY AND THE MENTAL STRAIN OF CONTROLLING MULTIPLE BODIES, IT WAS HARDLY A WORTHWHILE TACTIC.
BUT IF ONE WERE TO CRAFT A PUPPET BODY AND IMBUE IT WITH THEIR OWN WILL AND SOUL, IT COULD INHERIT A SIGNIFICANT PORTION OF THE CASTER'S STRENGTH.
"THIRTY PERCENT? SIXTY PERCENT? MAYBE EVEN EIGHTY?" BASTIAN MUSED, HIS BROW FURROWED WITH UNCERTAINTY. THIS TECHNIQUE, SO AKIN TO CREATING LIFE ITSELF, WAS BEYOND HIS UNDERSTANDING OF ALCHEMY. HE COULDN'T TELL IF THIS WAS MERELY AN INCARNATION OR A FULLY REALIZED BEING.
"EVEN IF HE'S OPERATING AT ONE-TENTH OR ONE-TWENTIETH OF HIS TRUE POWER, WE STILL CAN'T HANDLE HIM," WHISPERED A COMRADE BESIDE HIM.
IN THE BLINK OF AN EYE, A MERE SPLIT SECOND, THE FIRE GIANT LEADING THEIR CHARGE WAS OBLITERATED INTO A MIST OF BLOOD. THE GRIM REALITY OF THEIR DESPERATE SITUATION SANK IN AMONG THE RANKS.
THE ELITE TEAM ASSEMBLED HERE REPRESENTED THE FINEST WARRIORS OF ALL RACES. YET, THE ENTITY BEFORE THEM, EVEN DIMINISHED, REMAINED ONE OF THE WORLD'S MOST FORMIDABLE BEINGS. MOST DISHEARTENING WAS HIS NEAR-LIMITLESS ACCESS TO THE PHILOSOPHER'S STONE, MAKING HIS MAGICAL RESERVES NEARLY EQUAL TO HIS ORIGINAL SELF.
"LOOK AT HIS EYES, THEY'RE SO VACANT," ANOTHER TEAMMATE NOTED NERVOUSLY. "HE MIGHT ONLY BE FOLLOWING SOME PRE-SET COMMANDS. BUT DAMN IT, THAT DOESN'T MAKE HIM ANY LESS LETHAL!"
WITH A MERE GLANCE AND A SUBTLE GESTURE, THE CASTER UNLEASHED THREE SPELLS.
THE THREE VANGUARD ATTACKERS WERE INSTANTLY TRANSFORMED INTO SNOWFLAKES, BLOOD, AND SPARKS.
"IS HE TARGETING THE NEAREST THREATS ONE BY ONE?" BASTIAN WONDERED ALOUD. IN SUCH A SURROUNDED SITUATION, A TYPICAL CASTER WOULD USE AREA-OF-EFFECT SPELLS OR RAISE SHIELDS. AT WORST, THEY'D TRY TO CREATE DISTANCE.
YET, EVEN AS THE GIANT'S BATTLE AXE AND THE DWARF'S WAR HAMMER STRUCK THE HUMANOID FIGURE, THEY REBOUNDED WITH A HEART-STOPPING METALLIC CLANG. THE WEAPONS SHATTERED UPON IMPACT.
DESPAIR WASHED OVER THE GROUP. THEIR ENCHANTED WEAPONS, FORGED FROM MITHRIL AND DIAMOND, WERE INFERIOR TO THE VERY FLESH OF THIS BEING. DID HE PERCEIVE THEM AS SO LITTLE A THREAT THAT HE CHOSE TO ELIMINATE THEM INDIVIDUALLY, METHODICALLY?
"BASTIAN?" A VOICE CALLED OUT, PULLING HIM FROM HIS THOUGHTS.
NO, THERE WERE TOO MANY UNKNOWNS. PERHAPS THE HUMANOID BEFORE THEM DIDN'T EVEN REGISTER THEIR PRESENCE.
"BASTIAN!" ANOTHER SHOUT, MORE URGENT THIS TIME.
THE SUDDEN ROAR JOLTED BASTIAN BACK TO REALITY. HE FELT THE WEIGHT OF HIS COMPANIONS' ANXIETY PRESSING UPON HIM.
"I..."
"WE HAVE TO USE THE SAME TACTIC AS BEFORE. THERE'S NO OTHER OPTION!" ANOTHER COMRADE URGED, GRIPPING HIS SHOULDER.