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70% A Soldier's Light Against the Dark / Chapter 7: Chapter 7: The Darkest Night

Bab 7: Chapter 7: The Darkest Night

The streets had been transformed into a hellscape under the smoldering orange glow creeping on the horizon. Sections still intact now bore signs of the satanic assault: corpses hung defiled from balconies and lamp posts, strewn viscera, and scrawled arcane blasphemies on asphalt.

Ethan sped his vehicle recklessly through the gauntlet, careening around rubble and wreckage while answering Anna's intermittent distress calls amidst sounds of battle. At last, in the distance flashing among debris, he discerned the refugee camp's perimeter under siege, its makeshift defenses breached.

Slamming the brake, Ethan leapt out with weapons drawn and his eyes scanning for targets through infrared scopes. Cultists swarmed the encampment, dragging survivors struggling and screaming to await transports. He opened fire, felling two with headshots before they realized the attack from the flank.

As the horde turned ragefully upon this fresh threat, Ethan engaged in brutal close-quarters combat, with bullets and blades finding their marks with machine precision. Yet for each foe eliminated, two more seemed to materialize from the ruins. He was being herded and overwhelmed, suffering gashes and blunt traumas as the combat stretched.

Just when all seemed lost, thunderous booms shook the district, and streams of thermite rained from above, incinerating scores of demons. Choppers appeared to be strafing with mini-guns and missiles, clearing a corridor for evacuation. Anna emerged from the fray, bloodied but standing, embracing Ethan with relief.

Our guardian angel returns, she said with a weary smile. Now let's get these people to safety while our friends up top keep those beasts at bay. Ethan helped load the injured onto transports, exchanging fires with assaulting hordes whenever they neared under air support's thunderous assaults.

At last, the final vehicle sped away with its precious cargo. But in that moment, a shell struck one chopper's rotor, sending it into a death spiral amidst a fireball. Ethan and Anna dove for cover as it crashed mere yards away, erupting flames engulfing the intersection.

Through blurred vision, Ethan observed that their situation had become dire: the horde closed from all sides, while above, the remaining chopper circled desperately, laying suppressive fire. With a choked cry, Anna slumped against him, a spreading stain darkening her fatigues from a shrapnel wound in her side.

Ethan clamped down, radioing for immediate medevac while futilely fending off waves of demons clawing at the burning wreckage. He could barely see or stand from blood loss, holding Anna's limp form and praying for a miracle as talons scrabbled ever closer through the smoke. Darkness crept into the edges of his fading sight.

A brilliant light pierced his eyelids then, banishing the encroaching shadows. Ethan gazed up in awe and wondered at a towering radiant being shrouded in effulgent glory, wings spanning the heavens. With outstretched hands, it vanquished the demons with blinding bolts, parting flaming ruins aside to reveal salvation awaiting.

Paramedics rushed forward, bearing stretchers under the air cover's renewed barrage. As Ethan collapsed into blackness, he heard a voice like a roaring tempest: Fear not, for Christ has delivered you from death. Now go—finish what has begun! Darkness shall not overcome the light of the King of King's!

Ethan awoke again in an asylum clinic amid the familiar cacophony of wounded and dying. Yet through it all, one thought echoed: the divine promise that stirred his spirit beyond repair. Rising unsteadily but resolute, he retrieved his kit and ventured once more into the ruins turned purgatory, to shine a beacon of hope against the encroaching shadow.


PERTIMBANGAN PENCIPTA
Joshua_Khan_2290 Joshua_Khan_2290

"And this is how I saw the horses in my vision and those who rode them: they wore breastplates the color of fire and of sapphire and of sulfur, and the heads of the horses were slike lions’ heads, and fire and smoke and sulfur came out of their mouths.By these three plagues a third of mankind was killed, by the fire and smoke and sulfur coming out of their mouths."

Revelation 9:17-18

Bab 8: Chapter 8: The Final Showdown

The sulfurous miasma hung thick as doom over the ruins of a once-thriving metropolis. Its streets now ran choked with refuse, corpse-spawn, and demonic sentries patrolling under roiling stormclouds tinged with crimson at their master's command.

For Ethan Cole, that hellish panorama had become all too familiar—the backdrop for daily battles waged from one dawn of fire to the next against powers mortals were never meant to withstand. Yet no nightmarish vista could break his purpose, nor could the flame of faith that guided his way through each new nightmare.

This evening found him reconnoitering alone through alleyways, threading passages barely navigable under tons of pulverized masonry and rubble fused inexplicably into shapes too abhorrent for mortal minds. His quarry lay nearer with each step—the citadel rising obscenely above, pulsing now with unholy energies that saturated the very air and grit beneath boots worn through endless campaigns.

Reaching a half-collapsed overpass, Ethan paused to scan the scarred landscape below through thermal binoculars. Packs of cult hybrids stalked ruin streets, an aerial unit circling ceaselessly save for periodic touch-and-go's ferrying equipment and prisoners to the looming spire. Their empire was fortifying for a final stand.

As he watched, a flash seared his enhanced vision—a bolt of eldritch hellfire rent the skies to impact upon a hillfort barricade miles west, leveling earthen defenses in an instant. Through the dust cloud emerged monstrosities borne aloft on leathery pinions, swooping upon survivors' positions with talons and weaponry.

A private channel crackled urgently: Command requesting sitrep. This whole quadrant has fallen, soldier. Pullback and fortify remaining zones; we'll cover evac ASAP. But Ethan had ventured too far, and his mission remained unfinished. Responding, he would rendezvous at dawn, then sign off quietly. Homestretch had begun.

Under the cover of night, he advanced unseen through the ruins toward the citadel's dark perimeter. Patrolling hybrids were alert yet slow, inefficient—prey for one attuned perfectly to urban stealth and the shadows' embrace. Weaving a careful path through their sweeps, Ethan breached an exterior gate into abominable gardens overrun by esoteric flora pulsating with lifeforce not meant for mortal comprehension.

Deeper, the citadel's bowels stretched beyond nightmare, corridors winding endlessly yet purposefully—architecture intended to confound and unsettle intruders long before blades need drawing. Battle and scouting instincts honed over a decade of campaigns served Ethan well, avoiding detection this far, guided equally by a fortitude beyond training's scope.

At last he emerged upon a grand balcony overlooking a cavernous chamber that stopped his racing heart—an obsidian colosseum sunk fathoms into the earth, terraced with faces carved meticulously into shadowed stone. Within writhed a tangled mass that resolved in mounting horror—a vast congregation of cultists, hybrids, and captured humanity fused surgically and psychically into a single monstrous offering. It seemed Ernesh was sacrificing his own people and prisoners as sacrifices to the demon's. 

From observatories high above, Marcos and his inner circle looked down, monitoring blasphemous rites that synced the sacrifices undulations with chaotic sigils etched miles wide through the ruins by esoteric resonance. Through his optics, Ethan glimpsed familiar faces suspended and flayed yet living amid the pulsating mass, offering final prayers silently through agony no words could fathom.

A new determination now gripped Ethan's resolve—no abomination, demonic or man-wrought, would stand unchecked before God's righteous justice. Slipping away unseen, he descended twisting passages, sensing some eldritch blueprint guiding his footfalls unerringly toward the confrontation's endgame. Shadows drew close, but no darkness could stand against the light within. ,,,,,


PERTIMBANGAN PENCIPTA
Joshua_Khan_2290 Joshua_Khan_2290

“We put our hope in the Lord. He is our help and our shield. In Him our hearts rejoice, for we trust in His holy name. Let Your unfailing love surround us, Lord, for our hope is in You alone.”

Psalm 33:20-22

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