Void Spawn - A litrpg adventure fantasy

Clicking sounds reverberated inside a yellowish tent, bright light beaming on the porcelain mask of an omen. His fingers constantly tapped on the buttons of the computer, yet his frown never ceased.

"Have we made contact?" A deep voice asked.

"No, sir. All communications are down." The Omen shook his head.

The senior omen's face frowned. "Did they fail?" he muttered. "We have dealt a massive blow to the enemy forces. We should overpower them." His finger tapped against the desk at timed intervals.

A low beep echoed as the senior Omens head tilted towards the screen of the machine.

"We've established a connection, sir!" The Omen leaned forward, twisting and adjusting a rectangular machine by the side of the computer. "Hello? This is Dark Steel. Do you copy?"

The Senior Omen stared at the screen where a set of numbers were written, each symbolising a member amongst their ranks.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" The omen asked once more.

He tapped the shoulder of the omen. "Put it on volume," he demanded.

The omen nodded as he pressed a green button on the rectangular machine. A grating, static noise booms from the speakers.

The omen's brows knitted together, his tone raising a notch. "Hello?! Do you copy? This is Dark Steel! Is this Hammerblow? I repeat, is this—"

"I've found you."

The air dropped within the tent, a cold shiver running down their spines. They stared upon the rectangular machine, now dead and silent.

"W-Who—"

A long, piercing beep sliced through the air.

The two Omen slowly faced each other, the telephone dropping on the desk with a low thud.

"W-what do we do, sir?" The Omen asked, his hand pale as snow.

With a clenched jaw, the senior omen sharply turned towards the exit of the tent, hastening his pace—

An earth-shattering earthquake rocked the encampment, a roaring explosion sending ripples of shockwaves throughout the fortress.

The two Omens stumbled, slamming against the ground, the computers and machines planted on the table sliding off towards the cold earth.

"What was that?!" The Omen roared as he stormed out of the tent. A shrieking siren greeted him, dust and smoke devouring the entire camp.

The omen's gaze snapped from left to right as distant groans and screams echoed in the distance, fading under the cold morning wind.

"What the fuck..." His gaze sharply turned towards the entrance of the fortress. A deep, rhythmic thud inching closer by the second, a figure forming under the thinning smoke.

"WHO ARE YOU—"

A flash flickered in the dense smoke as a heavy thud kicked the dust up. What emerged was no omen but a hunter.

Samael's crimson glowing eyes peered through the screen of dirt, his face painted red.

Shifting his gaze around, he watched the crackling of the hellish flames consuming the base. The stench of iron swirled about the mountain of corpses piled one after the other.

It was done, yet he felt no satisfaction. He felt nothing but an unscratchable itch at his heart, of fear and of worry.

There was nothing here that concerned him any longer.

Samael left the fortress without a word, his footsteps echoing past broken-down walls, ballistae and artillery cannons ripped in half. Smoke and fire clung low over the muddy plains where bodies sank beneath, never to be seen again.

Returning to the base once more, Samael made way for Lilith's room, sitting beside her, his hand over hers in absolute silence.

Black, ethereal matter seeped out of Samael's flesh, enveloping Lilith's body in a warm embrace.

Aphemis watched in silence, guilt rising over her chest. Had it not been for her carelessness, this would have never happened. It was a mistake to bring her here. She should've—

"Enough," Samael cut the woman, casting a sidelong glance over her. "I know you're thinking this is your fault, but it is no one's."

Aphemis trembled as she looked at the man. "You weren't there—"

"I was not. But I've seen the same things." Samael's gaze drifted, lost and uncertain. "You should know, we're at war. Many more will die. But now is not the time to mourn."

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Aphemis was struck silent. Her hands balled into a fist, her brows quivering as tears meandered down her cheeks. "I'm sorry, my baby," she muttered to herself.

She had lost way too much. What would happen if she lost the last of her line? The one thing keeping her anchored to this world? She could not even imagine going through that same pain she experienced when her daughter died. At least not her granddaughter. Not her.

Samael's head hung low in silence. He was afraid Lilith may never awake again. He wished to hope, but he feared his hope would eat through him.

He could only wait.

He hated waiting.

***

Lilith felt lost and confused. Her soul ached with a pain no word could describe.

She drifted without destination or purpose. Fear lingered in her heart, eating through her every passing second. Visions plagued her, visions of what shall come.

Who was that man?

Will Samael truly die?

What then?

She cannot bear to even think of a world without him.

Her eyes dulled as the string she tightly clung to slipped further away.

If that was what awaited them, was it not better to simply let go now?

Yet, the string did not slip further but crawled closer.

Lilith's gaze centred on the bright string slowly circling around her wrist. It was warm. There, she felt safe.

A lone tear slid off her eyes, floating unto the vast expanse behind her.

Staring over the darkness before her, Lilith's cries echoed out.

"Samael... I'm scared."

The darkness cradled her for the final time as the light blinded her soon after.

Lilith's eyes flew open as she stared at the ceiling of her tent. Turning to the side, she witnessed Samael's warm hand over hers. He was asleep on her arms.

Lilith's eyes quivered as tears began to race after each other, falling down like raindrops onto the man's arms. Samael let out a soft groan as he looked upon the conscious woman, his brows knitting together as he held her cheek lovingly. "It's okay now. Everything is okay," he whispered in a hushed tone.

Lilith's sobs grew stronger as she leaned her cheeks against his palm, drowning herself in his scent and warmth.

Aphemis soon awoke from her slumber as she raced towards her granddaughter's side, tightly dragging her to a gentle embrace as her tears mixed with hers.

Samael stood up, kissing Lilith's forehead. "I'll be outside; you and your grandmother need some catching up," he whispered in her ears before leaving.

Once the tent closed, Aphemis fell to her knees. "I'm sorry! I was unable to protect you; I—"

Lilith held the woman's cheek, touching their foreheads and sharing warmth. "It is not your fault."

The woman broke down as her sobs grew louder. She could only apologise without stopping for a sin her sweet baby refused to acknowledge.

Samael stood outside the tent, deafening himself to the matters within. He let out a heavy sigh, bathing in the cold night wind as he felt days worth of exhaustion roll through him.

It didn't take long before Samael heard Lilith's call from within the tent. Entering inside, he saw the woman leaning over the wall behind her, Aphemis on her lap, asleep.

"I take it everything's okay now?" Samael asked with a small smile.

Lilith gave the man a nod. "It is."

Samael's brows furrowed as he reached for the woman. "What's wrong?"

Lilith's gaze locked with the man. "Nothing's wrong."

Lilith felt the man squeeze her hand.

"I can tell, Lilith. You're holding something from me," Samael asked again.

Lilith's gaze travelled down the bed, her smile falling apart. "I saw a vision."

Samael's gaze lingered on the woman for a while. And with a quiet sigh, he lowered himself to match her gaze. "Tell me."

Lilith felt her breath hitch. It wasn't a request; it was a command. One she cannot refuse.

"I saw the witches in the battlefield." Lilith's gaze wandered far, lost in her thoughts.

"The ones Amelia told us about?" Samael asked.

"Yes," Lilith nodded. "They knew I was looking for them. They said they were heralds, and they showed me visions of a time that would happen."

"What did you see?" Samael gently laid his hand atop hers.

"I saw a world consumed by chaos. It burnt bright—it was horrifying." Lilith's hand began to tremble as her gaze snapped left and right.

Samael squeezed her hand tighter, grasping her chin tightly and locking their gazes together. "Continue."

Lilith's breathing heaved slower as she swallowed hard. "I saw a man with skin as bright as my element. He held a spear—"

Lilith's words halted as she choked on her own words as if a stone was lodged in her throat. "You were impaled by that spear."

She grabbed the man, her grasp tight and strong, but Samael did not budge. "I saw it! I saw you bleeding and dying. I—"

Samael dragged the woman into a tight embrace, locking her within his grasp as he caressed her head. He could feel her quiet sobs and the fear coursing through her.

"You don't need to continue anymore," Samael whispered in her ears. "We will consult with Amelia. She may know more about it."

Lilith nodded against his embrace. Peeking over his shoulders, she whispered, her voice cracking. "Don't die, please."

Samael smiled. "I won't. Ever."

Lilith nodded as she buried her face deeper.

Once the situation in the area was cleared, Samael, along with Lilith and Aphemis, travelled their way towards the meeting point.

They arrived after half a week's travel. By then, Aphemis's strength had begun to return. Her wounds were no longer.

Lilith had calmed down. She had returned to a somewhat cheerful state, but Samael could still sense a hollowness in her smiles.

Arriving at the threshold of the fortress itself, Samael and Lilith made way for Amelia.

"You saw the witches?" Amelia asked, her mouth agape.

"Yes," Lilith nodded. "They referred to themselves as Heralds."

Amelia's brows furrowed. "Then it is true. Only those that have met the sisters know of their origins." Amelia's finger slowly tapped against the rim of her teacup. "What did they say?"

"I saw a vision." Lilith fiddled with her fingers. "Of our reality burning and a man with ginger skin standing amidst it."

Amelia leaned closer, the teacups on the table clattering a silent hymn. "What else...?"

Lilith swallowed hard, her body faintly trembling. "I saw a spear impaled upon Samael."

Silence devoured the room.

Amelia returned to her seat properly, her gaze fixed upon the girl. Slowly, she lowered her focus upon the green tea in her cup. "You're afraid. Afraid of what the future holds."

Lilith nodded. Samael remained dead silent. He couldn't help but feel sceptical. Fates, future—he didn't believe them all. He was destined to die in a cell once, yet he defied all odds. But Lilith was different. Her entire life had been defined by a prophecy.

Amelia let out a soft smile. "But worry not. You said you saw Samael impaled by a spear. Am I correct?"

Lilith nodded like a small child.

"But was he dead?" Amelia asked.

Lilith's lips parted, but no words were uttered. Her brows slowly furrowed as her head drooped low.

"Exactly," Amelia said. "We can never truly know what prophecies hold in store for us. Oftentimes they only provide a glimpse of a far future. So..." she laid a hand upon the woman's shoulder. "Do not be afraid; be strong and be prepared for what comes ahead. Your actions will define your future. That's what you need to remember."

Samael smiled as he gave the woman a wordless thanks. Amelia smiled even wider.

Fate.

Samael's visage darkened.

He dislikes them.