Doom Verse

As the radio call ended, Moros turned to his team, a grin lighting up his face. "Well, looks like they've found something interesting. Don't you think it's time for us to jump in too?"

Josh, Hanz, and Misa straightened and saluted in unison, shouting, "As you command, Captain!" They held their expressions for a second, trying to maintain composure, but soon broke into laughter. Their chuckles filled the air, easing the tension that always loomed on the edge of every expedition.

"Alright, alright, enough fun," Moros said, wiping a tear from his eye. "Let's get down to business." With that, the four of them stepped into the ancient ruins.

The air inside was thick and heavy, carrying the scent of age and mystery. Josh led the way, carefully placing each foot as he carried the parts of their teleportation device. Hanz followed close behind, his hand gripping a light spear, its faint glow casting eerie shadows along the stone walls. Misa came next, her demeanor calm and composed. Known as the world's greatest doctor, she had healed injuries others would call hopeless. Her presence was a comfort to them all. And last was Moros, the world's most ingenious inventor, renowned for his revolutionary teleportation technology, which could disassemble and reassemble matter across continents.

Just as they were about to cross the threshold into the main chamber, Moros hesitated. His pulse quickened as excitement coursed through him, the thrill of discovery stirring his mind. It wasn't just any ruin—it was rumored to hold secrets that even he, in all his wisdom, could only dream of. His gaze fell on Misa's hand, resting by her side. Without a word, he reached for it, and she smiled softly as he gave it a reassuring squeeze. Together, they took the final steps into the unknown.

But as soon as their feet hit the ground inside, a massive stone door came crashing down behind them, sealing the entrance. Dust and debris clouded the air, and everyone coughed, struggling to see through the haze.

"Misa! Josh! Hanz!" Moros called out, his hands reaching out, searching. A flashlight's beam cut through the dust, and Josh's hand gripped Moros's shoulder firmly.

"We're alright, Moros," Josh said, his voice steady. He pulled Moros to his feet, dusting off his shoulders with a reassuring smile.

Hanz had moved toward the stone door, running his gloved hand along its cold surface. After a moment, his face turned grim. "This is bad news. That's solid stone, probably centuries old. Blasting it would be suicide—it'd bring the whole place down on us." He looked at each of them in turn. "Our only option is to find the others and hope they know another way out."

Just as his words settled, red lights flickered along the walls, and a loud, grating alarm sounded. The room was bathed in a pulsating crimson light, turning the ancient stones into a chamber of warning.

"What in the world?" Misa's eyes widened, her voice edged with urgency. "We have to find the others, fast!"

Without another word, they bolted through the only visible path, a long corridor that twisted and turned. The good news was that Sandro's team had apparently disarmed many traps, judging by the occasional signs of scorched stone and broken mechanisms littered along their path.

After what felt like an eternity, they arrived at a vast, open hallway. Ancient suits of armor lined the walls, statuesque and foreboding, as if standing guard over the secrets within. Their metal glistened with a dark, oily sheen, despite their age.

The moment Josh stepped into the room, one of the armors shifted, its spear flashing as it hurled toward him. Reacting on pure instinct, he whipped out his modified army knife, deflecting the spear just in time. It clattered against the stone floor, echoing ominously.

"What the hell was that?" he muttered, glancing back at Moros. "We need shields. Now."

Before Moros could activate them, the suits of armor began to move in unison, their eyes glowing a deep, unnatural red. Hundreds of them lurched forward, their weapons raised, advancing on the group. Hanz and Josh quickly stepped forward, positioning themselves in front of Moros and Misa.

"Hey, kid," Josh grinned, his voice laced with a gruff confidence. "Don't go dying before I do, alright?" He flexed his gloved hand, readying his knife.

The armors charged. Josh roared as he slashed through them, his knife a blur as it cut down anything in his path. Hanz followed close behind, thrusting his spear with deadly precision, ensuring none could slip past them. The dark, oily substance that seeped from the shattered armors coated them, making the floor slippery and filling the air with an acrid, metallic scent.

Minutes turned into an agonizing stretch of time. Despite their strength and skill, fatigue began to creep into their limbs. Josh was a powerhouse, slicing through waves of enemies, but even he was wearing down. Then, as he brought his blade down on yet another armor, a splash of the black matter hit his eye. He stumbled back, momentarily blinded, and in that instant, one of the armors took advantage, swinging down with brutal force. Pain ripped through Josh as the blow severed his right arm.

His scream pierced the air, his face contorted in agony. He staggered, clutching the wound, blood streaming down his side. Another strike was about to fall, one aimed directly at his head, but a blast of energy hit the attacker just in time. Misa stood there, wearing Moros's energy glove, the remnants of her shot still shimmering in the air. The shields were finally activated.

Moros was already by Josh's side, pressing napkins against the wound to staunch the bleeding. "I'm sorry, Josh," he murmured, voice heavy with guilt. "I didn't think it'd take that long to activate the shields."

Josh's lips twitched in a faint smile, even as he grimaced. "Don't worry about it, Captain. The main thing is we're all still standing."

Misa knelt beside him, examining the wound. After a moment, she looked up at Moros, her face a mask of determination. "We need to cauterize it—now. He's lost too much blood, and… his hand…" She cast a quick glance at the mangled remains underfoot. "It's too late to save it."

Josh nodded grimly, biting down on a metal pipe to brace himself. Misa tightened her grip on the energy glove, her face steeling as she prepared for the painful task ahead. Without hesitation, she pressed it to his wound. The sickening smell of burnt flesh filled the air as Josh's muffled screams echoed through the chamber. He passed out just as Misa pulled the glove away, her own face pale but resolute.

"That's all I can do right now," she said softly, wiping her brow. Her gaze shifted to the armor outside the shields, their red eyes gleaming with unending malice. "If we don't find a way out soon, we're as good as dead."

Moros took a shaky breath and stood, determination hardening his face. He hugged Misa briefly, then took the glove from her. "Hanz and I will hold them off as long as we can." He fired off a series of blasts at the approaching armors, calling over his shoulder, "You ready, Hanz?"

"Thought you'd never ask," Hanz grinned, twirling his spear. He lunged forward, meeting the armors head-on. Despite the fatigue that weighed down every step, he moved with surprising agility, his spear darting and slicing through the crowd.

An hour passed. Their bodies screamed in protest, muscles aching and bruised, but they kept fighting, each blast and strike whittling down the enemy ranks. Cracks began to appear in their shields, the power cells nearly depleted. Desperation hung in the air as they realized they couldn't hold out much longer.

Just when it seemed all hope was lost, a familiar voice echoed from the far end of the chamber. "Moros! Hanz! Misa! Josh! Are you alive?"

Sandro's group had arrived, their faces filled with relief and determination. A new spark of hope ignited in Moros's group. With renewed strength, they fought on, the armors now caught between two forces. Slowly, one by one, the dark-suited warriors fell, their oily substance pooling around shattered pieces of metal.

After what felt like an eternity, silence finally settled over the hallway. The floor was littered with broken armor, and dark liquid seeped into every crack and crevice. Voltra, one of Sandro's team members, knelt beside a fallen suit, shaking his head in admiration. "A shame such craftsmanship had to be destroyed."

Spinnel rolled his eyes and gestured toward the battered members of Moros's group. Voltra sighed and nodded, "But, of course, nothing's more important than your lives."

The two teams took a much-needed break, tending to wounds and catching their breaths. Misa worked quickly, patching up injuries with steady hands despite her exhaustion. They exchanged a few weary smiles, a silent acknowledgement of their shared survival.

The last impediment before the ancient door was finally defused, and only thing is left to find out what is ruins hiding.