Tick Tock On The Clock [LITRPG Deckbuilding with Time Ticking down]

[05: 11: 29: 15]

...

Cassian sat at the long wooden table, a steaming bowl of soup cradled between his hands. They were in the General's private quarters.

Across the table sat Dorian, looking more tired than Cassian had ever seen him. Beside him was Derek, the scarred, masked leader who seemed to be more comfortable glaring than speaking, and at the head of the table, General Rahlm sat back with a broad grin. The old man was robust and bald, his scalp shining under the lamplight.

Every few moments, he'd lean forward and clap Cassian on the back with a heavy hand that felt like a sledgehammer.

"Good to see a young man who doesn't have to worry about hair getting in the way," Rahlm boomed, his grin stretching from ear to ear. "Saves you time. No need for combs, eh? Maybe I should shave all these louts in here too!"

He barked out a laugh, slapping Cassian's back again.

Da fuck!…

Cassian forced a smile, his jaw aching from how hard he was clenching it.

Was the old man comparing whose bald head shone brighter? Or was that approving gaze meant as a compliment? Either way, Cassian couldn't shake the feeling that the old man had completely misunderstood why he was bald in the first place.

A notification flashed across his vision, reminding him of yet another mistake.

Yes… I swear that in that moment, I was stupid.

Cassian sighed, staring down at his soup as he stirred the contents absently. He didn't remember giving the system any command to mute them, but somehow it had happened. And for that, he had been apologizing to them nonstop.

"The Wild One" was very angry. No apologies seemed to help. But Cassian believed that some excitement and fighting would change their mood.

Calm down, guys, Cassian thought. I didn't mean to ignore you. Seriously.

Thank you, Cassian thought; the tension in his shoulders eased just a little.

And again, I'm sorry. I'll make sure it doesn't happen again.

Across the table, General Rahlm leaned forward, his heavy brow furrowing as he directed a question at Dorian. "So... what exactly happened in that facility, O'Connor? That explosion aftershock was felt here, too."

"How many survivors did you find?"

Dorian's jaw tightened. His eyes flicked to Lian and Mara, who were seated nearby, picking at their food in silence. "Not many," he said, his voice low. "There was one more but... she didn't make it. She sacrificed herself to set off the failsafe. Without her... none of us would have gotten out."

General Rahlm nodded, "She will be remembered; getting rid of that godforsaken facility is a huge boon."

Cassian's spoon hovered over his soup, the liquid still swirling from his absent stirring. Dr. Elira. Sacrificed herself.

The words hung heavy in the air, pressing down on his chest. He understood why she did it. She had been one of the scientists involved in the calamity. Even if she had survived, her identity would have been a death sentence if anyone found out.

But still...

Why? Why sacrifice herself? Why not try to survive and face the consequences head-on?

Cassian swallowed; the spoon sank back into the soup with a soft splash.

Was it really that simple? Sacrifice yourself so others could live? Was that the kind of person Elira had been?

His gaze dropped to the table, the clamor of the dining hall fading to a dull hum. All he could hear now was Elira's voice echoing in his mind—Take care of the children.

He hadn't even had the chance to say goodbye. To thank her.

"Cassian," Dorian's voice cut through his thoughts.

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Cassian blinked, looking up to see Dorian's eyes, dark and serious. "You all right?"

"Yeah," Cassian said, forcing a small, tight smile. "I'm fine."

The old man leaned back in his chair, arms folded over his broad chest, a single brow raised in amused expectation. "Well? With the way Dorian is looking at you and the strangeness around you, I'm assuming you are the child of prophecy," General Rahm said, his voice a deep, gravelly rumble.

He is quite sharp.

Cassian sighed, fingers drumming against the wooden table. He still had preset three active—the one with only a single healing card.

That should do.

Standing up, he moved toward Derek, the scarred, masked leader who stood nearby with his arms crossed and his stance rigid.

"It'll take a second," Cassian said, raising a brow.

Derek blinked, then nodded. "Go ahead."

Cassian placed a hand on Derek's shoulder, feeling the tension knotting the man's muscles. Closing his eyes, he reached deep into his essence well and pulled the essence, activating the card. The air shimmered with a soft, golden glow, and the healing light enveloped Derek like a warm embrace.

The golden light intensified, seeping into Derek's skin, crawling up his neck, his jaw, and his face. Derek's trembling fingers reached up to the mask, and with a shuddering breath, he removed it.

Gone were the deep, angry burns. Gone were the twisted scars. Derek's skin was smooth, unblemished, as if the years of agony had been washed away in seconds.

Yup, that should do it…

Derek's eyes welled with tears. His hand shook as he touched his now unmarked cheek. "I... I can look my daughter in the eye again," he whispered, his voice cracking. "I won't scare her anymore..."

He bowed deeply to Cassian, tears streaming down his face. "Thank you," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "Thank you."

Before Cassian could respond, Derek straightened and, without another word, hurried from the room, no doubt to find his daughter.

Cassian exhaled, feeling the residual drain of essence in his chest. When he looked back at the table, General Rahm's expression had turned steely, his dark eyes narrowed. The old man's gaze bore into him, unrelenting.

"That… that was," General Rahm said, leaning forward. "How did you get powers like that?"

He met the general's eyes squarely and shook his head. "To be honest, I don't know. I woke up in the rubble a day ago with no memory of what happened. Just these... powers."

Rahm stared at him for a long, heavy moment, his expression unreadable. Then, without a word, he stood up and walked out of the room.

Cassian frowned, his eyes tracking the general's broad back as it disappeared through a side door. Dorian shot Cassian a wary look but said nothing.

"Umm, is he angry?" Cassian muttered.

A moment later, General Rahm returned, carrying a small, ornate wooden box. He set it down in front of Cassian with a heavy thud. The box was simple yet finely crafted; the wood was dark and polished to a glossy sheen.

"What's this?" Cassian asked, brows furrowing.

Rahm sank back into his chair, arms crossed over his chest again. "After the rifts opened, a handful of these stones dropped down from the sky."

Dorian's eyes widened at the box. "I thought all Sanctuary stones were destroyed."

Rahm grunted. "Almost all of them. There were ten in total. Now, only a few remain. The demons have been hunting them down relentlessly, searching for them. Somehow, this one survived."

Cassian glanced down at the box, his pulse quickening. "What does it do?"

Cassian swallowed, his palms suddenly damp. He lifted the lid.

Inside was a crystal—smooth, translucent, with intricate golden markings etched into its surface. It pulsed with a soft, warm glow, and as soon as Cassian's fingers brushed against it, a surge of energy shot through him.

«Before your time runs out, Timebound, you must place the Sanctuary Stone into the Destruction Pillar. Once activated, the Sanctuary Stone will convert all stored destruction energy into creation energy. This blast of creation radiance will fortify life—but for demons, it will be fatal.»

...

Cassian's heart hammered in his chest as the system notifications flickered before his eyes.

Finally, the main quest.

Sighing, Cassian flicked the messages away. He forced himself to focus on the present. The room was tense, the air thick with anticipation. The Sanctuary Stone pulsed faintly in his hand, its warm glow a stark contrast to the chill that had settled in his gut.

He looked up, meeting the old general's eyes. "The guide, it's the voice in my head ever since I got my powers, wants me to place this stone in the Destruction Pillar, whatever that is," he said, lifting the crystal slightly. "Any ideas?"

General Rahm's expression darkened. The man stood slowly, motioning for them to follow. "Indeed, come with me," he said.

Cassian and Dorian exchanged a glance before trailing after the old general. They passed through a series of reinforced corridors, the walls lined with maps, old weapons, and a few battle-worn flags.

The decor is pretty solid… honestly, it doesn't feel like I'm underground at all.

Finally, Rahm led them to a large steel door guarded by two heavily armed soldiers. With a nod, they stepped aside, allowing him to enter. Inside was a large operations room, buzzing with personnel. Screens and monitors covered the walls, each one displaying live feeds, maps, and tactical data.

Rahm marched to the center of the room, where a large circular table dominated the space. The surface was smooth, polished black glass. When the general tapped it twice, a holographic map flickered to life, projecting the entire valley in three-dimensional detail.

"Wow…" Cassian muttered, eyes widening as he took in the intricate representation of the valley—the mountains, rivers, and settlements all meticulously rendered in glowing light.

Rahm zoomed in, the projection shifting and magnifying until it hovered over a single mountain peak. The mountain rose high and ominous, its craggy slopes marked with red indicators.

"This is Mount Ywarh," Rahm said, tapping the peak with a calloused finger. "The Destruction Pillar sits at the summit. It has been overrun by the demons. They've fortified it, established patrols, and scouts along the mountain paths. The closer you get to the peak, the denser the demonic presence."

Cassian's eyes followed the trail of red markers leading up the mountain, each one marking a probable patrol or checkpoint. "Any information on the demons themselves?"

Rahm grunted, his jaw tightening. "Advanced civilization. Far beyond anything we have. And they're not just mindless monsters—they use powers too. Primarily fire-based abilities. Some can manipulate magma; others can launch flame attacks from a distance."

Cassian crossed his arms, his gaze locked on the peak of Mount Ywarh. The timer hovered in his vision, ticking down.

[05: 11: 18: 37]

...

Okay… good to know.

Cassian swallowed, forcing the voices into the back of his mind. He glanced at Dorian, who was staring grimly at the map.

"I'll leave tomorrow at first light," Cassian said, his voice firm.

Dorian's head snapped toward him, his eyes blazing. "I'll make prep—Wait, you're not going alone."

"Yes, I am," Cassian said, cutting him off. "She gave up her life, Dorian. Elira sacrificed herself to save us—to save the kids. They're your responsibility now. And I know you want to help me, but you can't."

Dorian's jaw clenched. "Cassian—"

Cassian shook his head. "No. I need to do this alone. If you come with me, you'll be abandoning the kids. They've already lost enough. Plus, demons… things could go wrong very quickly."

Dorian's eyes flashed with a storm of emotions—grief, frustration, and anger. But after a tense moment, he exhaled, shoulders sagging. "You stubborn bastard," he muttered. "Fine. But you'd better come back alive. You hear me?"

Cassian smirked, the expression not reaching his eyes. "Hmm."

He turned to General Rahm. "I'll take the stone now. And some basic gear if you've got it."

Rahm nodded slowly, his expression unreadable. "Of course. Follow me."

They walked deeper into the operations room, past more personnel who eyed them warily. At the far end of the room was a reinforced vault door. Rahm punched in a code, the door hissing open with a cloud of frigid air. Inside was a storage room filled with crates of weapons, armor, and various supplies.

Rahm gestured to the nearest crate. "Take what you need. And be careful out there, kid. We've lost enough good people already."

...