章節 6: Chapter 6: The Echoes of Veilrend
The Relic of Veilrend pulsed faintly in Eryas's hand, its surface cool but alive, as if a heartbeat thrummed just beneath its metallic sheen. The whispers in his mind shifted, their tone no longer urgent or chaotic. They were...focused.
The shadows in the Vault of Calyx receded, leaving only the dim glow of the rune-etched walls. Eryas's muscles were taut, his body drained from the encounter with the cloaked figure, yet a strange energy hummed through him now. The Relic's power was seeping into him, a foreign presence intertwining with his own.
He couldn't shake the feeling that he had crossed another threshold, one from which there would be no return.
"Don't linger," Veyra's voice snapped through the communicator pinned to his collar.
Eryas exhaled sharply. He had nearly forgotten about her. "I have the Relic," he said, his voice hoarse.
"Good," she replied. "Then let's get out before they figure out we're here."
The Shadows Strike Back
The journey back through the Obsidian Spire proved far more treacherous. The moment Eryas stepped into the corridors, alarms blared, their shrill tones echoing off the obsidian walls.
He cursed under his breath, his revolver already in his hand. He could hear the heavy thuds of Warden boots approaching from all directions. The Hierarchy wasn't about to let him leave with their prize.
"Veyra," he hissed into the communicator. "What's your status?"
"Busy," came her terse reply, followed by the crackle of gunfire. "You'll have to find your own way out, hero."
Eryas gritted his teeth. Typical.
The first squad of Wardens rounded the corner, their weapons glowing with eldritch energy. Eryas didn't wait for them to fire. He raised his revolver and shot twice, the bullets ricocheting off their armor before shadowy tendrils erupted from his outstretched arm, ripping one of them apart.
The other two opened fire, plasma bolts scorching the air. Eryas ducked behind a pillar, his heart pounding. The Relic buzzed in his grip, the whispers surging. They spoke of escape, of ways to harness the Relic's power to tear through the fabric of reality itself.
He shook his head. "Not yet," he muttered, silencing the voices.
Instead, he darted into an adjacent corridor, his shadows wrapping around him like a cloak. The Wardens pursued, their movements mechanical and relentless.
Eryas led them into a tight bottleneck, where he turned and unleashed a torrent of darkness. The shadows surged forward, tearing through their ranks with brutal efficiency. The last Warden collapsed in a heap of twisted metal and flesh.
But the cost of the attack weighed on him. The more he used his powers, the more the whispers grew, clawing at the edges of his sanity.
The Skyline's Betrayal
Eryas finally emerged onto the Spire's exterior platform, where the cold night air hit him like a wall. Kaeltria's sprawling cityscape stretched out below, a sea of flickering lights and choking smog.
Veyra was waiting, crouched near the edge with her daggers slick with blood. She glanced at him and nodded. "Took you long enough."
"Let's move," he said, striding toward her.
But as they prepared to rappel down the Spire, a deafening roar echoed from above. Eryas turned his gaze skyward, his heart sinking.
A massive Hierophant-Class Sentinel, a flying war machine bristling with weaponry, descended from the clouds. Its searchlights locked onto them, and a booming, distorted voice issued a warning:
"TRAITORS OF THE HIERARCHY. SURRENDER OR BE TERMINATED."
"Fantastic," Veyra muttered, drawing her daggers.
Eryas gripped the Relic tighter, the whispers urging him to act. But this time, they spoke with clarity, offering him something he couldn't ignore: control over the shadows around him on a scale he'd never attempted.
Unleashing the Abyss
The Sentinel unleashed a barrage of missiles, their glowing trails slicing through the night sky. Eryas reacted instinctively, raising the Relic. The shadows around him surged upward, forming a massive barrier that absorbed the impact. The explosion rocked the platform, but neither he nor Veyra was harmed.
The Sentinel hovered ominously, preparing another volley.
"Tell me you have a plan," Veyra shouted over the noise.
"I might," Eryas said, though he wasn't sure it was his plan or the Relic's.
He extended his arm, and the shadows responded, writhing like living creatures. They shot upward, coiling around the Sentinel like serpents. The machine thrashed in the air, its weapons firing wildly, but the shadows tightened, crushing its metallic frame.
With a final screech of tearing metal, the Sentinel plummeted, crashing into the city below in a fiery explosion.
Eryas staggered, the strain of the act leaving him breathless. The Relic pulsed again, feeding him a surge of energy, but it came at a price. He could feel the line between himself and the darkness blurring further.
A Deal in the Dark
Veyra helped him to his feet, her expression unreadable. "Remind me never to get on your bad side," she said.
Eryas didn't respond. His gaze was fixed on the horizon, where the lights of Kaeltria flickered like dying embers.
They descended the Spire in silence, using the chaos of the Sentinel's destruction as cover. Once they were clear, they retreated to one of Veyra's safehouses in the Fringe District.
As Eryas sat in the dimly lit room, the Relic resting on the table before him, Veyra broke the silence.
"You've seen what it can do," she said, nodding toward the artifact. "What we could do with it."
Eryas looked at her, his expression hard. "And what do you think happens if we use it? You saw what they've turned their soldiers into. Do you really think we're any different?"
"We don't have to be different," Veyra said. "We just have to win."
Eryas leaned back, the whispers in his mind louder than ever. For the first time, they weren't just urging him to act—they were offering him a choice.
Power or freedom.
Revenge or redemption.
The line between them was growing thinner by the moment.
A New Threat
Before Eryas could respond, the safehouse trembled violently. An unearthly howl echoed through the night, followed by the sound of walls collapsing.
Veyra leapt to her feet, her daggers drawn. "What now?"
The door burst open, and a figure stepped inside. It was one of the Hierarchy's elite Eviscerators, a hulking abomination of flesh and machinery. Its eyes burned with a sickly green light, and its twisted limbs were adorned with glowing runes.
But something about it was different. Its presence was suffused with an unmistakable aura—the same energy as the Relic.
Eryas stood, the shadows coiling around him instinctively. He realized then that the Hierarchy wasn't just trying to stop him.
They were trying to consume him.
And the only way to survive was to embrace the darkness that was already inside him.
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榜單 
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