Zenith [Closed] [Chapter XX]

[Silver Eyes]

Amoura was knelt down on the floor, smoke curling and rising from her sweat-glossed skin. She was shaking, panting; her hair was damp and clumped together around her features, concealing the look of surprise that was etched in. Her hands squeaked along the marble floor, leaving a trail of water in their wake as she finally mustered the strength to stand. Her dress was far too worn and torn to even be considered modest in the presence of anyone so a familiar black smoke curled around her, gradually putting her armor on for anything else that may come her way.

Something was playing with her mind. Every single trial she had endured throughout her life was coming at her one by one and the first was the confrontation against her father whom she had defied. The order was to eradicate a group of humans–she refused. "Why do you hate them so much?!" She had yelled, "What did they ever do to you?!" The response was a blast of energy that shot pain throughout her body and soul. Getting away from an angered legion was not easy by any means and neither was adjusting to a physical shell.

Wave after wave, they came. It felt like a mass of water slamming into her body trying to sweep her off her feet to carry her off in a violent current. Each step she took was sluggish. Everything was rushing back so fast but there was something amidst it: a light. It had to be the shroud she was searching for. Was it testing her? Was it trying to see if she was even worthy to get close to it? Amoura wiped her brow, gritted her teeth and sprinted down the hallway she had managed to lose herself in. It had stopped long enough for her to recover enough strength to get closer.

Her footfalls and the billowing of her cloak echoed out. Sometimes a screech of her shoes as she slid to a stop to take another route could be heard. Either way, she was desperate to find the Shroud and to end this madness once and for all. Her friends were relying on her.

And maybe, just maybe, once this is over they could all be at peace without another threat.

But something stopped her. A gut instinct was screaming for her to halt and that something was heading her way. Amoura remained quiet and waited to see what was stopping her...

[Tajna Rasha]

Tajna Rasha had deliberately controlled the tower for the past few months to ensure the events transpiring in Utopia – namely Amoura’s relentless search for the Shroud of Turin – would go uninterrupted. In that, the Ghost of Legion had been ruthless; using the tower to crush any would-be traveler that would venture just a little too close. Through a process not unlike how it separated itself from the timeline to replicate its body, Tajna Rasha had pulled Utopia from the hinges of the grand design of the creator - and by extension even Maricul’s own grasp. The threshold of the Downward Spiral that led to this Utopia was the single one that shone not or a bright blue, but a ravenous black. It presented itself no longer as a gateway, but a haunting abyss radiating with darkness. There was an obvious thing going amiss in Maricul’s realm. Though many were certain to seek knowledge of what was transpiring, none were the wiser to it, and none would ever but the phantom and Utopia’s single remaining resident.

But something had happened that even the Ghost of Legion couldn’t predict.

When the holy child had summoned the divine wrath of Aper against the righteous Witch of Utopia, it had broken the cycle of the Arashi prophecy and unwittingly shattered plans millions of lifetimes in the making. The End was truly near for Tajna Rasha to have made such a daring miscalculation in the final stages of its goals. All was not lost however, though to ensure this the phantom had to carefully maneuver its pawns – Amoura especially – into place. Warping the flow of time, Tajna Rasha had essentially encased the Night Angel in a place where the passing of the last months would seem like an instant to her. The death and resurrection of Superwoman, the assassination of the Empress Ranko by Chloe – even Miracle’s exile – she would be oblivious to it all. Only the urgency would remain; that gut feeling that Veran was on her trail and the only mean to stop it resided in the Shroud. Even now the shadow of the First Aspect etched on the horizon, begging to return to this plane, and when the time came… Tajna Rasha knew its protégé would play her part.

An emotion crept its way within the hinges of Tajna’s core – like a tangible, cold palpitation at the back of its mind. O how many lifespans had passed since the demon felt such a thing.

[Veran]

A dark cloud loomed over Utopia. A choir of tortured laments echoed throughout the plane, and just like that, from the darkness. It came. Eyes set on the herald. It walked, and extended its reach. Crimson flashes of fire, brimstone and sulfur fell from the sky…

[Tajna Rasha]

…and the Ghost of Legion watched as the final act of his machinations began. Just like that, after all eternity, it was finally time.

And she was set free.

[Silver Eyes]

Her tormentor had arrived, but she refused to let that stop her.

The cries were deafening. Amoura squinted her eyes, feeling her ears ringing, and pressed on down the labyrinth of halls. The light was still within her sights, and the closer Veran drew to Utopia, the brighter it became. The sulfur and brimstone was something she had grown used to during her life in hell, but if it was it was on "middle ground", it wasn't a good sign. But when was The Antithesis of Life ever a bearer of good signs?

The screams grew louder. The Night Angel's sensitive hearing couldn't handle the frequency and she stopped with both hands over her ears. Was this its attempt to slow her? Had this been any other day, she'd let it come and go, but she didn't have time to wait. "Oh, shut up!" Drastic times called for drastic measures. A discomforting sound and a sharp sensation of pain momentarily gave The Night Angel sweet silence from Veran's tormentees: she had grown out her forefinger's nails and jammed them into her ears, deafening herself. At most, she had a few minutes before she'd heal, so she had to act fast.

Amoura grunted, and with a sharp shake of her head, she continued to follow. At the end of a wide hall, there was a chamber, and the light was remaining stationary.

Had she found The Shroud at last?

[Veran]

But a cold and inhumanly strong hand grabbed her. The darkness itself seemed to thicken in front of the Night Angel to such an extent that it nearly became opaque, blocking her view of the light. Even in her deafened state she could hear them. Those growls. She could feel them. Their putrid flesh tearing and cracking as they held her. Their stench… The veil became like an ocean, and she was drowning in it—against all her efforts—she became engulfed in darkness. They clawed at her with their nails and bones, cutting deep marks into her skin under the watchful and terrible gaze of the First Aspect. Even amidst the pain and terror she could see his horrifying image. He was coming for her. He was close.

So close.

He extended a hand towards her until finally…

[Tajna Rasha]

…the Ghost of Legion appeared from the light. Brandishing a sword seemingly made of light, it slashed at the horde – cutting and slaying them – until finally it tore Amoura from the darkness.

Dragging her on the ground and away from Veran, the simple motion seemed to require an impossible amount of effort even for the specter. Its eyes radiated with desperation, looking deeply into her eyes before thousands of wires and barbs impaled it like hellish thorns and brought it in the black maw of the Arashi’s realm. A single word burned into her mind – one even she would hear in her deafened state.

‘‘Run!’’

[Silver Eyes]

Amoura felt a cold, empty pit well up in her stomach when the familiar scent of putrid flesh overpowered the sulfur and brimstone. You know that uneasy feeling you get when a being with awful intentions was watching you? The Night Angel was familiar with this, and the source of that feeling attacked her before she could turn around to face it. "No! Get away from me!" Amoura shouted. This wasn't the time to give into her fear.

For the first time, she fought back against the Antithesis.

The Night Angel yelled out in defiance and, as the legion tore at her, she ripped and shredded them in turn. It didn't matter to her if this was a hopeless struggle--she had people relying on her to save them and nothing in this world or the next would stop her. Nothing!

Veran's hand extended, she could feel a chill emitting from him, and death was knocking at the door...

...until Tajna Rasha saved the day. The Night Angel was too shocked to fight against him when he grabbed her. As the Ghost dragged her free from the sea of darkness, a soothing warmth spilled from her back: her Devil Trigger was activating from being close to the First Aspect's deadly grip.

Run!

Amoura turned and ran to the light again. It was close now! Tajna bought her enough time to get to the shroud! That is, if the light coming from the chamber was it...

[Veran]

The phantom was immediately torn apart by the vines which then shot towards Amoura again, Veran intent giving her no respite. No chance to escape.

No chance to live.

[Tajna Rasha]

Once again, Tajna Rasha appeared from the light and segmented the unnatural tendrils just as they reached the Herald of Prophecy – stopping them dead in their tracks – though not before they managed to leave large gashes in her armor. The First Aspect was no longer content with merely stopping Amoura…

Immediately it felt the shadow dawn over its head.

‘‘Run faster!’’ It boomed just as Veran came.

Left and right, images of the wraith appeared. Then another materialized. And another.

[Veran]

With the deafening choir of all the dead of all ages pleading, crying and screaming… the apparitions didn’t have time to react. They were consumed as though ignited by hellfire. Their incandescent forms cracked and peeled away; revealing the shapeless void beneath. Tongues of flame fell from the sky; obliterating them completely.

It then moved with divine purpose, pursuing Amoura like a great and roaring purifying torrent.

[Silver Eyes]

Run faster!

That's exactly what she did. As fire poured from the sky, incinerating Tajna Rasha's replications of himself, she sprinted off. The Night Angel's body was blurred from the breakneck speed she was running at. All eyes, say for Tajna Rasha and the Aspect, would be unable to even catch a glimpse of her. Tattered portions of her armor ripped off and fluttered to the ground, even her red cloak tore free; and she didn't slow. She wouldn't stop until The Shroud was in her hands.

The light was growing brighter. How much farther from her goal was she?

[Tajna Rasha]

‘‘Keep running!’’

But the words of the ghost were lost under the holler of the inferno. It chased her relentlessly; leaving nothing but dust and ash in its wake. Tajna Rasha didn’t waste a moment to station itself between the blazing pillar of flame and Amoura. It tore at the earth like a great blade of fire, ravaging it: The Council Member watched as the wave came, incinerating everything in its path. Summoning the spectral blade to its side, the arcane powers of the phantom began to converge around its epicenter with the same intensity as the hellfire. Taking both its talons to contain the frightening force, the ghost began to charge. Its wings spread behind its back like a great cape, eyes burning with wrathful conviction, there was a moment where the skeletal figure stood between light and dark – with Amoura and Veran – and it couldn’t help but marvel at the cruel irony of the imagery… Time stood still and Tajna Rasha continued on its approach. The blaze was dispersed, pulled in by the Kasul until it completely impregnated the mystical weapon. Charging through the charred wasteland, nothing stood between the First Aspect and the specter.

[Veran]

The hollow, black eyes beneath the mask observed their enemy silently – unapologetically – but the Arashi did not move. It would indulge the angel of death with this defiance; entertain the final sacrilege of the one that bore the name Tajna Rasha.

[Tajna Rasha]

The light was such as even the ghost was seared by it, but it paid no heed to its deteriorating body; even the opaque shadows surrounding the First Aspect were scattered. The ghost lunged. The robes were caught ablaze by a white-hot flame. It would reap its foe.

And the blade collided with Veran.