The marble floor of the lobby was cool and pristine under Night’s boots, a stark contrast to the chaotic swirl of figures around him. He stood still, observing the ever-shifting groups, the silent negotiations, the wary glances. At his side, ▣Sarhea moved with a purpose that was both familiar and utterly alien. Her dark gown whispered against the floor as she strode toward a cluster of individuals robed in silver. Before she could utter a word, they melted away, dispersing into the throng near the shimmering portal arches.
“They fear us.”
Night rested his hand on the hilt of his sword. It was no longer the simple blade he remembered. It hummed with a contained, solar heat, the metal now resembling captured sunlight, warm to the touch even through his glove. He looked down at his own form, finding it unchanged—same dark tunic, same boots, same sense of being recently, confusingly assembled. Everyone else in the grand lobby seemed to bear marks of their journeys: scars that glowed, eyes that held extra dimensions, weapons that pulsed with strange energies. He was a blank page.
▣Sarhea approached another group, five figures huddled near a floating map of star systems. Again, they turned their backs, a unified gesture of rejection. A flicker of something like frustration passed over her pale features. She glanced back at Night, her eyes, the colour of tarnished rust, meeting his. In that look was a question, a shared loneliness in this crowded, neutral ground where violence was forbidden but hostility thrived.
It was then that a trio broke from the flow and walked directly toward them. Night’s breath hitched. The man leading them was himself. Same height, same bearing, same engravings. But his armour was polished to a mirror shine, reflecting the lobby’s false daylight, and his expression held a calm assurance Night did not feel. Beside this double stood a woman who was ▣Sarhea, and yet was not. This Sarhea⊕ seemed wrought from light itself. A brilliant, multifaceted ring hovered behind her head, casting such a powerful illumination that her features were softened into a radiant blur. The third member of their party was a tall gentleman whose very outline seemed to bleed sunlight, though no sun existed in the vaulted ceiling above.
The two faced each other. The dark one offered a slow, measured nod. Sarhea⊕ returned a smile that was both warm and terrifyingly assessing. No words were exchanged. Each mentor raised a hand, a mirrored gesture, signalling their respective teammates. Without discussion, both groups turned and walked back toward the glowing portal they had just exited, an unspoken agreement passing between the mirrored leaders.
Night understood. The lobby was a tense truce. The training ground was a testing kettle. They stepped through the portal arch together. The transition was not smooth. Night felt the world dissolve into a vortex of colour and sound, and then he was tumbling through a crisp, blue sky, the ground a patchwork of green fields and grey cloud far below.
He flailed, his instincts screaming. He looked across the open air.
The enlightened team were already in a perfect diamond formation, descending with practised ease. The knight looked across at him, and a faint, not unkind smirk touched his lips. Night saw ▣Sarhea twisting in the air beside him, her dark robes flapping. Their eyes locked. He saw the warning there, the grim acknowledgement. They could die here. This was real.
Night focused, remembering the fleeting instructions implanted in his mind upon his creation. He spread his arms, willed his descent to slow, and angled his body. He landed in a crouch, one hand slapping the grassy earth for balance. He did not fumble. He stood up, straightening his tunic, and met the gaze of his double, who had landed silently moments before.
They stood on the wide, grassy plain with its steep hill dominating the landscape, and atop it sat the eerily familiar, solitary, thatched-roof cottage. A tense silence hung in the air, broken only by the sigh of the wind. Then, with a sound like splintering wood, the cottage door exploded outward. The roaring tide of creatures poured forth, twisted, their forms a blur of rage and crude weapons. The mob streamed down the hill like a foul river.
A guttural roar went up from both sides. The light team moved first. The gentleman with them, the one wreathed in imagined sunlight, merely lifted his hands. The sky above the hill darkened. Great chunks of cloud and hail tore themselves free from the air before hurling themselves into the front ranks of the mob, crushing a dozen in an instant.
Night watched, stunned. He saw his double draw a sword that shone with pure, white energy. He moved with a fluid, deadly grace Night knew he did not possess, cutting through the fray, a whirlwind of precise strikes. Night stood frozen for a moment, a spectator in his own skin. Was any of this real? Was he dreaming in some strange, protracted fever?
He shook his head, forcing himself to move. He drew his sword. It flared in his grip, its heat comforting. He took a few steps up the incline, slashing at a snarling human-like creature that lunged at him. It fell, dissolving into motes of light. He pushed forward, then a sudden cold dread gripped him. He looked back down the hill.
▣Sarhea was there, facing her luminous counterpart. They had hung back from the initial charge. Sarhea⊕ form was a beacon of calm. ▣Sarhea held her ground, her dark power coiling around her like mist. Then, faster than Night could follow, Sarhea⊕ moved. There was no flashy display, just a single, efficient lunge. A blade of condensed light appeared in her hand and plunged into ▣Sarhea's abdomen
Night’s heart stopped. ▣Sarhea gasped, her eyes wide with shock, then pain. She crumpled to the ground, a dark stain spreading across the grass. Sarhea⊕ stood over her, her radiant face unreadable. Night tried to scream, to run, but his feet were rooted. Sarhea⊕ looked down at her dying mirror in great contemplation.
She then knelt, placing her hands over the wound. A softer, warmer light emanated from her palms, seeping into ▣Sarhea's body. The stain receded. ▣Sarhea drew a ragged, shuddering breath, her eyes fluttering open. Sarhea⊕ helped her to her feet, a complex expression on her blurred features—pity, respect, caution.
All this happened as a new threat emerged. The cottage door, now shattered, framed a monstrous figure. A giant, now six times the height of a man, clad in animal skins and wielding a tree-sized electrified club, stepped out. It bellowed, shaking the very hill.
Sarhea⊕ turned from her revived enemy. She raised her hands toward the giant. Her team reacted as one. The gentleman summoned more frozen spikes. The knight leapt high, his white sword carving a blazing arc. Sarhea's⊕ own power, a focused beam of pure energy, lanced from her fingertips. Their coordination was seamless. The giant, barely having taken two steps, roared in agony as the combined assault tore into it. It fell with a ground-shaking crash, dissolving like the mob.
Night had not moved. He had done nothing. Yet, as the giant vanished, he felt a surge of power through his arm. He looked down. Solar now glowed more fiercely, intricate new patterns etching themselves along its blade, the heat intensifying. He had gained from their victory, a point awarded simply for being on the winning side.
All was silent again, save for the sighing wind and the heavy breathing of the combatants. The light ones regrouped at the base of the hill, their postures relaxed but watchful. The knight sheathed his brilliant sword without a sound, his gaze scanning the horizon as if expecting another wave at any moment. Sarhea⊕, stood with her hands clasped before her, the radiant halo behind her head dimming to a gentle, persistent glow. The gentleman who commanded the earth brushed a speck of invisible dust from his immaculate sleeve.
The battle was over. The field was empty save for the new alliances. The two approached each other again. ▣Sarhea, still pale but standing firm, looked at her saviour and would-be killer. Sarhea⊕ nodded once, then gestured with an open hand toward the return portal that had shimmered into existence nearby. It was a courtesy, allowing the defeated team to leave first, a gesture of respect. A kinship, forged in the strange economy of this place.
Night stood apart from them, the heat of his newly-etched blade a stark contrast to the cold knot of shame in his stomach. He looked at ▣Sarhea. She was standing now, a hand pressed to her abdomen where the wound had been. Her dark gown was whole again, the wound gone as if it had never been, but her face was pale, her eyes shadowed. She met his gaze, and there was no accusation there, only a weary understanding. She knew he had frozen. She had seen it.
They exited the training field portal together, the bright ones hanging back. Night felt a bizarre satisfaction. They had lost, but they had survived. An understanding had been reached. The right choice had been made, he felt sure of it.
A soft chime sounded in the air, a clear, crystalline note that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. The grassy plain, the hill, the ruined cottage—all of it began to pixelate at the edges, dissolving into streams of shimmering data. The world bled away into a neutral, grey nothing.
The smell hit them first as the portal’s glow faded. The clean, sterile scent of the lobby was gone, replaced by an acrid, choking mixture of burning wood and sulphur. Night blinked, his eyes adjusting. The heavenly lobby was being consumed. Flickering orange flames licked up the marble columns. The once-bright ceiling was stained with oily, black smoke. A palpable sense of malice hung in the air, thick and cold despite the heat.
The light team emerged behind them. The knight took one look at the transformed lobby, his assured stance vanishing into stark alarm. He met Night’s gaze, and for a second, there was no mirror, only shared terror. Without a word, the light team turned and fled, disappearing into the smoky haze, abandoning them without a backward glance.
Something was very wrong. Then, they were approached.
Two figures walked through the spreading fire unaffected. The woman was ▣Sarhea. But this was ▣Sarhea corroded by power. Her ring was not silver, nor black iron, but a void-like obsidian that seemed to swallow the firelight. A fine, dark netting, like a veil of shadows, was draped over it, obscuring her face. Only two points of hot, orange light gleamed from within—her eyes. Beside her stood a knight in armour so dark it appeared to be made of solidified smoke. A low, dim hum emanated from them, a sound that vibrated in Night’s teeth and chilled his soul.
These were not like the others. The lobby’s rules felt fragile in their presence. These two existed outside the system’s intended order. They had overridden it. They were beyond the pale, beyond the number that promised freedom. They were a numerical impossibility that spoke of corrupted code and stolen eternity. Their success was nought but a blight.
The fire spread, the very fabric of the lobby peeling away in glowing, blackened strips, revealing a dizzying nothingness underneath. ᴱʳʳᵒʳ stepped forward. She did not speak. She merely lifted a hand, slender and pale, and pointed toward the training field portal, which still swirled invitingly amidst the chaos.
The unspoken question hung between them. Was this it? ᴱʳʳᵒʳ and the knight just stood there, waiting, their silent command absolute. To refuse felt like instant annihilation. To obey felt like walking into a gullet. Night looked at Solar. It glowed, but its light seemed feeble against the encroaching dark. He looked at ▣Sarhea, her own dark power seeming fragile now. He thought of the light team fleeing. He thought of the brief, hard-won kinship on the training field. This was different. This was an ending before a beginning.
Without another word, ▣Sarhea turned and began walking toward the training field portal. Her footsteps, which usually left scorching burns on marble, now left ashy, dead prints on the charring floor. Night followed, the hum of the corrupted ones vibrating in his bones. He did not look back. He knew ᴱʳʳᵒʳ and her guard were not following. They were waiting. They would watch the portal. They owned this place now.
Together, Night and ▣Sarhea stepped into the swirling light of the portal, leaving the burning, dying lobby behind. The last thing Night saw before the vortex took him was the obsidian ring of ᴱʳʳᵒʳ, a black hole against the fire, and two entry points to hell within her shadowed veil, watching them go in.
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/**TEAM DESIGNATION: NIGHT-SATUN PRIME (DARK VARIANT)** **OBJECTIVE: SECURE HILLTOP STRUCTURE – SUCCESS** **CONTRIBUTION RATING: MINIMAL (OBSERVATIONAL)** **POWER SYNCHRONIZATION: SOLAR SWORD – PATTERN ALPHA ACQUIRED** **MISSION DEBRIEF: AVAILABLE**