The Original Realm

The bear's roar was deafening. Its guttural sound reverberated through the relic chamber, shaking loose bits of dust and stone from the ceiling. Luke's fists clenched tighter as he felt the weight of the beast's gaze settle on him and Eleanor. The creature stood like a monument of pure malice—four meters of muscle and spikes, its dark fur pulsing faintly with sickly energy. Its green eyes blazed with an unnatural hatred, burning into his resolve.

The relic behind them pulsed softly, a beacon of fragile hope, but its glow only seemed to anger the shadow bear more.

Eleanor notched an arrow without hesitation, her voice cutting through the tense air.

"Luke, stay close to me. If it charges, don't try to stop it head-on. Move fast—buy me time to shoot."

"Got it," Luke replied, though his voice wavered. The heat of his Advent coursed through him, a golden glow tracing faint patterns over his arms and legs, but it felt insignificant against the monster before them.

The bear lowered its massive head, muscles rippling beneath its bristling fur. For a moment, the room felt still—like the air itself held its breath. Then it moved.

The shadow bear lunged with terrifying speed. Its bulk should have made it slow, but it covered the distance between them in a blink. Luke barely had time to shout.

"Move!"

He dove to the side as the bear's claws raked through the space he'd occupied a heartbeat earlier. Stone shattered where it struck, the impact shaking the chamber like a small quake. Luke rolled to his feet, sweat dripping down his brow, only for his eyes to widen as the bear swung one of its massive paws in his direction.

Too fast!

Before it could connect, Eleanor loosed her first arrow. It shot through the air with the precision of a lightning strike, embedding itself in the bear's shoulder with a sharp thud. The creature snarled and staggered back, just enough to miss Luke.

"Thanks!" Luke shouted, scrambling backward.

"Don't stop moving!" Eleanor barked, already drawing her next arrow. Her gaze was locked on the bear, her hands impossibly steady. The glow of her "Hunter" essence sharpened her focus to something inhuman—she tracked the bear's every shift, every muscle twitch, waiting for an opening.

The bear's fiery green eyes snapped toward her, its rage intensifying. It roared again, shaking the air, and charged Eleanor this time, its massive paws slamming into the stone floor as it barreled forward.

Eleanor fired twice more in rapid succession, each arrow finding its mark—one in the bear's chest and another grazing its neck. The creature slowed momentarily, blood dark and unnatural dripping from its wounds. But the beast did not falter. With a snarl, it closed the distance.

"Eleanor!" Luke yelled, launching himself forward.

As the bear swiped a claw toward Eleanor, Luke intercepted it. His Advent flared, his arms glowing gold as he caught the massive limb mid-swing. The force of the blow nearly knocked him off his feet—his legs skidded across the stone floor, cracks spiderwebbing outward from his heels. Every muscle in his body screamed in protest, but he held firm.

"Run!" he grunted, struggling to keep the bear's claw at bay.

Eleanor didn't waste the opening. She darted back, arrows already flying as she unleashed a flurry of shots into the bear's face and neck. Some pierced, others bounced off its spiked fur, but her precision kept the beast from focusing fully on Luke.

With a roar, the bear yanked its paw free, sending Luke flying across the chamber. He crashed into the wall with a painful thud and collapsed to the ground. His vision blurred, but he forced himself to move. He couldn't stop—not now.

The bear wheeled on Eleanor, its movements becoming more erratic. It swiped blindly, chunks of stone and debris flying as its claws tore through the chamber. Eleanor ducked and weaved between its strikes, each movement calculated, her arrows never ceasing. But the creature seemed unfazed by her attacks, its rage only growing.

Luke groaned as he stumbled to his feet, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. He had to help her. He pushed off the wall, Advent energy flaring as he sprinted toward the beast's side.

"Hey, ugly! Over here!" he shouted, leaping into the air. His fist glowed brilliantly before slamming into the bear's ribs with all his strength. The blow landed hard—a small shockwave rippling outward—but the beast barely flinched.

Luke's eyes widened in horror. "No way…"

The bear turned its head, its green eyes locking onto him. Before he could react, its massive paw struck him like a hammer. Pain exploded through Luke's body as he was thrown across the room again, his body skidding across the stone floor.

"Luke!" Eleanor shouted, her voice cracking with panic.

The bear roared and charged after him, its bulk shaking the chamber with every step. Luke gasped for air, his limbs refusing to obey him. He couldn't move. The beast loomed over him, its jagged claws raised for a killing blow.

An arrow whistled through the air and embedded itself in the bear's eye.

The creature shrieked, staggering back and swiping wildly at its face. Dark blood spilled from the wound, and Eleanor fired again and again, her shots relentless. "Get up, Luke!" she shouted. "I can't hold it off forever!"

Luke forced himself to his knees, his breath ragged. His Advent energy flickered weakly around him—he was running out of strength. He looked at Eleanor, still fighting, her expression fierce but strained.

She can't do this alone, he thought. I can't let her die.

Gritting his teeth, Luke staggered to his feet. The bear had turned its full attention to Eleanor, its fury driving it forward despite its injuries. Eleanor leapt back, narrowly avoiding a swipe that shattered the ground where she'd stood.

"Come on, come on," Luke muttered, his Advent flaring one last time as he sprinted toward the bear's exposed side. He leapt, his fist glowing with golden energy as he roared and struck the beast's flank.

This time, the hit did stagger the bear—it stumbled to the side, roaring in frustration. Eleanor seized the moment, firing an arrow straight into its other eye. The creature howled in blind rage, blood streaming down its face as it thrashed wildly.

"Luke, we need to fall back!" Eleanor shouted, moving toward him.

Luke stumbled, his energy nearly spent. "We can't let it near the relic!" he panted.

Eleanor's jaw tightened as she glanced at the glowing artifact behind them. The bear, though blinded, was still moving—still dangerous. Its roars filled the chamber, a sound of relentless hatred and fury. Even without sight, it could still feel its prey.

"It's too strong," Eleanor muttered, frustration seeping into her voice. "We're not stopping it."

Luke clenched his fists, shaking with exhaustion. He knew she was right. Every hit he landed felt like striking a mountain, and Eleanor's arrows, no matter how precise, weren't enough. The bear was like a force of nature, unstoppable and uncaring.

The ground trembled as the beast roared again, charging blindly toward the relic chamber's center. Eleanor grabbed Luke's arm, pulling him back.

"Move!" she shouted.

They barely avoided the bear's charge as it crashed into the wall near the relic, its claws tearing through stone as it tried to find them. The relic pulsed faintly, its light wavering as dust and debris fell around it.

Luke's chest heaved as he looked at the scene before him—Eleanor's quiver nearly empty, his Advent flickering like a dying flame, and the bear, still alive, still relentless.

We're losing.

Above the Sanctum

Meanwhile, high above in the sanctum, the dust had settled only to give way to even greater chaos. Sylveria, Aldric, and Calista clashed in a deadly dance of blades, strings, and glowing fists.

Sylveria moved like a shadow, her clones flickering as they struck at Aldric and Calista with synchronized precision. Aldric, his body glowing with Advent, countered with brutal force, his fists shattering stone and clones alike.

"You think I came here to assassinate you, Aldric?" Sylveria's voice cut through the din. "Fool! I'm here to stop you from taking the relic!"

Aldric snarled as he deflected one of her strikes. "Me? Don't flatter yourself, Mirrorblade. I know you and that puppet-master over there are scheming to kill me!" His glowing fist swung toward Calista, who evaded it effortlessly, her strings striking out like vipers.

Calista remained silent, her expression blank. But something about her was… different. Her strings lashed out faster, longer, twisting in mid-air to change direction even after being thrown. It was unnatural, like the strings were alive.

Sylveria's eyes narrowed. "Her strings… something's wrong."

The three warriors continued their chaotic battle, the lines of loyalty and reason dissolving into pure survival. Blades flashed, strings struck, and fists crashed

However, amid the chaos, near the entrance of the sanctum where the battle shook the very foundations of Athereon, a single figure remained still.

Thalrien sat in the center of the devastation, surrounded by the remnants of broken stone and unconscious bodies of fallen guards. His halberd lay across his lap, its edge gleaming faintly under the fractured light seeping in from above. Around him, a faint golden aura pulsed steadily, expanding and contracting like the slow rhythm of a heartbeat.

Eyes closed, breath even, Thalrien's focus was absolute. Every sound of battle—Sylveria's war cry, Aldric's furious strikes, Calista's eerie strings tearing through the air—echoed in his ears, but none of it disturbed him. He was a stone amidst the tide of chaos.

His Advent energy flowed through him, drawn in like water filling a dry vessel. The power suffused his muscles, his bones, his very being. Thalrien had always fought with precision and patience, and now, as the energy gathered to its peak, he could feel the raw strength coursing through him—more than he had ever wielded before.

The ground trembled again as another shockwave rippled through the sanctum above, the air heavy with the sounds of destruction. Dust cascaded down from the ceiling like a fine mist, and still, Thalrien did not move.

Almost there…

The golden glow around him brightened, its pulse quickening. His fingers twitched against the shaft of his halberd. He inhaled deeply through his nose, the air crackling faintly with energy, and then—

Silence.

Thalrien opened his eyes.

The faint golden light that had surrounded him coalesced into a blinding aura, surging outward in a quiet but undeniable burst. The air shifted around him, and the tension in the sanctum seemed to bend to his presence.

With deliberate calm, he rose to his feet. His armor, scuffed and worn from the earlier battle, gleamed brighter now, reflecting the Advent energy radiating from his body. He lifted his halberd, its weight now insignificant, the weapon vibrating faintly in his grasp as though it too felt his newfound power.

His expression remained neutral, his sharp gaze unwavering as he turned his attention toward the chaos in front of him. The echoes of Sylveria, Aldric, and Calista's battle continued to rage—strings snapping like whips, stone crumbling, voices shouting accusations and defiance.

Thalrien tilted his head upward, his voice calm yet resonant as he spoke to no one in particular.

"I've absorbed enough Advent."

He spun the halberd once in his hands, the motion graceful despite the weapon's imposing size. The faint hum of his energy intensified, vibrating the air around him. A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he took a single step forward, the ground cracking beneath his boot.

"It's time to end this."