NOVEL NEXT Chapter 57 — Last Haven
[05: 17: 31: 46]
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The soldiers exchanged tense glances, rifles still trained on them. Besides Cassian, Dorian stepped forward slowly, raising his hands in a deliberate, non-threatening gesture. "Easy," he said, his voice firm but calm. "We're survivors."
"Like hell you are," the one-eyed soldier snarled, his sneer twisted with suspicion. He was blonde, tall, and muscular, with a jagged scar running from his brow to his jaw. "You think we're fools? Demons have gotten cleverer than that."
He spat on the ground, fingers twitching over the trigger. "Captain, let's shoot them. We still have some blessed bullets left. If they relay this location back to the demons, we're screwed."
Demons? Cassian's brow furrowed, a sinking feeling in his gut.
Now that I remember, Dorian had mentioned something about an invasion.
He shifted slightly, positioning himself protectively in front of the kids. He could feel Mara and Lian clutching the back of his jumper, their small fists trembling against the fabric.
The captain hadn't said a word yet. He was a man in his forties, dark-skinned, with a thick layer of stubble under a half-face mask that obscured his features. His hands were clasped behind his back, his dark eyes narrowed as he scrutinized them, his jaw working beneath the mask.
Dorian raised his hands higher, palms open. "Look, we're human. If you doubt that, use a sunstone on us. It'll confirm it," he said evenly, keeping his voice calm, level. "We've been through hell, especially the kids."
At the mention of the children, the soldiers' eyes wavered, their stances softening ever so slightly. Even the one-eyed blonde's sneer twitched, the muscles in his jaw loosening.
Dorian pressed on, voice steady. "You all heard that explosion at the facility, right? We were inside. We barely got out alive."
The mention of the blast made the soldiers flinch. They exchanged uneasy glances, and even the captain's eyes flickered with something like shock.
Slowly, Dorian reached into his coat pocket, pulling out his dog tags. "I'm Dorian O'Connor," he said, holding the tags up for them to see. "Fifth Legion Captain. I was tasked with investigating the facility by the High General Daniels."
At the mention of that name, the captain's eyes darkened. He stepped forward, stooping to pick up the tags. His hand trembled slightly as he examined them, turning them over in his gloved fingers. Cassian swore he heard the man sigh.
When he finally spoke, his voice was a low, gravelly rasp. "Dorian O'Connor…" He looked up, meeting Dorian's gaze. "You're still alive?"
Dorian's brow creased, eyes narrowing. "You know me?"
The captain was silent for a long, heavy moment. Then, with a rough, almost painful motion, he reached up and peeled away the mask covering the lower half of his face. Beneath it, his skin was a patchwork of scar tissue—burns and deep, jagged gashes that had never properly healed.
Dorian's eyes widened. "Derek?"
The captain's mouth twitched in a ghost of a smile. "You look like shit, O'Connor."
Dorian let out a ragged breath, a mix of relief and disbelief. "Damn, you're still kicking?"
Derek nodded, but his expression remained grim. Without another word, he pulled a small, makeshift dagger from his belt. The blade was crude, the hilt wrapped in black cloth, but the stone blade gleamed a faint, pearly white.
Derek held it out. "Sunstone. If you're human, this will prove it."
Cassian glanced at Dorian, and Dorian gave him a subtle nod. "It's a formality," he murmured. "This thing's laced with holy energy. Burns demons like acid."
Dorian took the knife first. Without hesitation, he pressed the blade to his palm and dragged it across. Blood welled up, dark and red. He held up his hand for them all to see. "Satisfied?"
Derek's eyes flicked to the kids. "Them too."
Dorian knelt and took each of their hands, one by one. Mara flinched, but she didn't cry out as he made the shallow cut. Lian bit down on his lip, eyes wide but resolute. They both bled, their blood dark red, not the black ichor of demons.
Cassian swallowed, his jaw tight. He took the knife last, weighing it in his hand. Would it burn him? He was aligned with Destruction—what if the holy energy mistook him for something else? But wasn't I using heal?
He took a steadying breath, then drew the blade across his arm hard as a thin line of blood welling up from the cut.
"See?" he said, holding up his arm. "Just human."
Derek nodded, shoulders relaxing as he sheathed the sunstone blade. The other soldiers lowered their rifles, the tension in the air dissipating like mist.
Derek stepped forward, extending a scarred, calloused hand. "Welcome to the last shelter," he said, his voice heavy with fatigue and something that almost sounded like regret. "Seems like you guys have plenty of stories to tell."
The soldiers led the way, the one-eyed blonde soldier lingering for a moment to offer the kids a piece of chocolate each.
Mara blinked up at him, eyes wide, and Lian hesitated, looking at Cassian for permission, who laughed and nodded, as Lian hurriedly took the sweet with a quiet, "Thank you."
Ha… good kid, Cassian thought as he ruffled both Mara and Lian's hair; seeing them pouting brought him relief.
Dorian and Derek walked ahead, their voices a low murmur as they spoke in clipped, serious tones.
Cassian fell back, letting them have their space. His feet moved automatically, his gaze wandering around the corridor as they passed through a series of security checks. Armed guards scanned them with handheld devices, sensors hummed as they passed through decontamination chambers, and the stale, recycled air hissed around them.
Damn… that a lot of checking, they are not taking any chances if the nest were to mature, would they be able to Survie the horde?
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Their clothes and belongings were taken for cleansing, and the group was handed basic, plain gray overalls in return. Cassian pulled the loose garment over his aching body, the fabric rough against his skin, but he didn't complain. It was better than running around in a blood-soaked sash.
Once dressed, they were guided into a lift. The walls were metallic, the lights a sterile white. Cassian leaned against the cold metal, closing his eyes for a brief moment. He could still hear Dorian and Derek murmuring beside him, their voices blending into the steady hum of the elevator's descent.
But he didn't bother listening.
His mind was too full. Too raw.
Everything that has happened in the past day felt surreal, like a bad dream, a nightmare he couldn't quite wake up from.
His mother's death and Arwyn.
His hands curled into fists, the muscles in his forearms twitching. Even now, he could see her face—those eyes that once looked at him with such warmth, now gone and that fucker Arwyn.
Haaaa… I'm doing too much… fuu deep breaths.
Becoming a timebound.
Then the nest and The Mother of Kalrachs.
And there are still god knows how many things left to do before this damn story level ends.
The desire for revenge flared in his gut like a dying ember, but it wasn't consuming him. Not yet. It was there, simmering beneath the surface. A promise rather than a need. He had power now—real power. But it wasn't enough. Not for Arwyn. Not yet, but he will reach that level soon.
A soft chime echoed through the lift. The doors slid open.
Cassian heard the kids go 'waah'. Mara and Lian's jaws dropped in unison.
"Whoa…" Mara breathed, her voice barely a whisper.
"It's… an entire city," Lian muttered, eyes darting around in awe.
And honestly, he was in shock as well; the underground shelter wasn't a shelter at all. It was a city.
The ceiling arched high above them, painted with a simulation of the sky. A soft, golden light mimicked the setting sun, casting long shadows over rows of neat, organized houses built along winding streets. Trees—actual, living trees—lined the sidewalks. A massive, artificial lake stretched across the center of the underground city, its surface reflecting the glow of the simulated sunset.
A chuckle drew Cassian's attention to the blonde soldier who had walked up beside them. "Pretty crazy, huh?" the man said, grinning. "Name's James. And welcome to Last Haven."
Cassian arched a brow. "Last Haven?"
James nodded, gesturing to the sprawling underground expanse. "Back during the first demonic incursion and the rift, the government built these underground sanctuaries. Most of them fell after the second wave, but Haven's still standing. We're one of the last."
There must be a lot of people here then… holy, the sheer scale of this place is hurting my brain.
Cassian's eyes tracked the lines of houses, the artificial sun, and the shimmering water. "How many people live here?"
James's grin faltered, his expression hardening. "Used to be about thirty thousand. Now? Less than ten, but we have a full working economy, we are self-sufficient, the power is drawn from an array of soulspark."
Cassian whistled. That's highly competent work from them after the entire facility fiasco… I really didn't have hopes.
Derek stepped forward, his posture tense as he gestured toward one of the nearby structures. "One of my men will show you to a house," he said, his gravelly voice carrying a hint of exhaustion. "Rest up. You look like hell. All of you."
[05: 16: 48: 43]
Haa not sure but I'll welcome a rest for a few hours… last few hours have been hell.
Dorian opened his mouth to argue, but Derek shook his head sharply. "Yes, you too, O'Connor. You're about to keel over. Get some rest. I'll come get you at dinner. General Rahm wants to debrief you personally."
Dorian let out a heavy sigh but nodded. "Understood."
A small jeep rolled up to them, driven by another soldier in the same gray overalls. Cassian helped Mara and Lian into the backseat before climbing in himself. Dorian settled beside them, his shoulders slumped, eyes staring blankly at the road ahead.
Cassian leaned back, eyes drifting up to the artificial sky as the jeep rumbled forward. The simulated sunset continued its slow descent, casting everything in hues of orange and red.
Surrounded by walls and ceilings designed to mimic the world they'd left behind, Cassian couldn't help but feel the weight of it all.
How much of the world above was still intact? How many more havens were left?
He shook his head, pushing the thoughts away.
Arwyn was still out there. Alive. And he'd need every ounce of strength to face that bastard again.
But that could wait. For now, he just needed to breathe. To recover. And to figure out what the hell is the damn main quest.
...
The air was thick with the scent of brimstone and molten rock. The massive chamber pulsed with the ominous, rhythmic thrum of the obsidian pillar that stood at its center—a towering monolith crackling with dark red energy. Each pulse sent ripples of destructive energy outward, causing the very walls of the chamber to shimmer and contort, as though reality itself quaked in fear.
Before the pillar, a towering figure stood.
Lord Commander Rahl'kor.
His armor gleamed black and crimson, etched with runes that seemed to pulse in time with the pillar's dark energy. Twin horns jutted from his skull, curved and sharp like the blades of a scythe. His eyes were twin suns of blazing fury, searing through the room as he turned his gaze toward the kneeling demon before him.
Kel'bahan trembled, his scrawny frame hunched low, forehead pressed against the hot stone floor. Sweat poured down his brow as he dared to lift his gaze just enough to glimpse the Lord Commander's towering form.
Rahl'kor's voice was a rumble of thunder, deep and resonant, shaking the surrounding air. "What were the results, Tung Tung Kel'bahan?"
Kel'bahan swallowed, the thick knot in his throat bobbing as he tried to speak. "L-Lord Commander Rahl'kor," he stammered, his voice quivering. "The facility you ordered us to monitor... it is gone."
Rahl'kor's massive hand shot out, clamping around Kel'bahan's throat with the ease of one picking up a doll. He lifted the trembling demon off the ground, letting him dangle, legs kicking weakly.
"Do you take me for a fool, scum?" Rahl'kor's grip tightened, the armored gauntlet creaking as Kel'bahan's eyes bulged, his breaths coming in ragged, wheezing gasps.
"N-No, my lord!" Kel'bahan managed to croak out. "I-I speak the truth! The entire facility... It's gone. Reduced to nothing—a bottomless crater."
Rahl'kor's eyes narrowed, the orange flames burning brighter within them. "A self-detonation protocol? Is that the best excuse you can give me, Kel'bahan?"
Kel'bahan choked, his fingers clawing feebly at the hand crushing his windpipe. "W-Wait! My lord! B-But Kel'haran... Kel'haran said that there were traces of a truth."
"truth? Truth!" Rahl'kor's eyes shifted, scanning the line of demons kneeling before him. "Which of you is Kel'haran?"
A dark-skinned demon with a single, piercing horn stepped forward, his movements graceful and unhurried. Unlike the trembling Kel'bahan, he held himself with a calm, composed dignity as he sank to one knee beside his superior.
"This one is Kel'haran of the Wuzsifa Horde," he said, voice steady.
Rahl'kor's gaze bore into him, a predator's gaze locking onto prey. "How can you be so certain it was a truth of the Destruction Path?"
Kel'haran inclined his head, his voice betraying a hint of pride. "My great-grandfather taught me to recognize the essence of the Destruction Path. It is unmistakable. The energy that obliterated the facility was not a mere detonation. It bore the unmistakable traces of a Truth—Destruction in its purest form."
Kel'haran bowed his head respectfully, his expression unwavering. "This one is the great-grandson of Bahk'fus'roh'haran, my lord. Perhaps your lordship remembers him."
Rahl'kor's eyes glinted at the name. "Bahk'fus'roh'haran," he murmured, his voice softening, almost reverent. "The Butcher of the Burning Plains. Yes... I remember."
A slow, dark grin spread across Rahl'kor's face. "You are a scion of a noble lineage... why waste your life here?"
Kel'haran met his gaze evenly. "My patriarch speaks highly of the Endless Infernos of the Ulzaaman Horde, my lord. It is an honor to serve under your command."
Rahl'kor's booming laugh echoed through the chamber, a sound that resonated like a clap of thunder. He released Kel'bahan, who dropped to the ground in a gasping, twitching heap.
"From now on, you are in charge of all reconnaissance and scouting efforts," Rahl'kor declared, slapping Kel'haran on the back, nearly knocking him over. "Serve me well, and you the find your glory."
"Yes, my lord." Kel'haran's tone was smooth, composed.
Rahl'kor's expression darkened, his eyes narrowing as he glanced down at the twitching Kel'bahan. "As for you... trash."
With a casual squeeze of his fist, Kel'bahan's head exploded like a ripe melon, spraying blood and brain matter across the stone floor. The other demons flinched but did not dare to look up.
Rahl'kor turned back to Kel'haran, his voice a low, deadly growl. "Find out what happened there. A Truth of Destruction doesn't just manifest without a source. I want to know which demon dared to enter my domain without my permission."
Kel'haran's dark eyes gleamed as he bowed his head low, his lips curving into a small, secretive smile. "It will be done, my lord."
Rahl'kor stepped away, his massive armored form casting a long shadow over the bloodstained floor as he approached the pillar, pulsing with destructive energy. The air shimmered around it, the environment bending and contorting to match the Lord Commander's simmering rage.
"Interesting," he muttered, eyes narrowing as he traced a clawed finger down the surface of the pillar. The energy within it flickered, and for a brief moment, he felt it—a faint echo of the Truth of Destruction. A purity of intent, raw and untamed.
Rahl'kor's eyes blazed brighter, the flames within them flaring dangerously.
...