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Chapter 46 - The Mustafar (1)

  A deep, unshakable dread settled in Claire’s chest. It wasn’t just paranoia—something was coming. She could feel them.

  Hundreds of presences, lurking just beyond the dark horizon, watching. Waiting. Closing in.

  Her breath hitched. “They’re here.”

  A moment later, a wave of glowing eyes appeared in the distance—a sea of luminous, predatory orbs blinking in eerie unison.

  Darkcrawlers.

  Hundreds.

  The air itself seemed to grow heavier as the creatures skittered forward, their grotesque forms shifting against the light.

  “Move!” Nyx shouted, adjusting Nigel’s weight on her back. She gritted her teeth—he was heavy, but there was no way in hell she was leaving him behind.

  The group bolted.

  Footsteps pounded against the damp earth, boots kicking up sand and dust as they raced through the unknown terrain. The horrifying screeches of the Darkcrawlers echoed behind them, claws tearing through stone and sand as the horde surged forward.

  Dovak, running just ahead, suddenly slowed.

  Something pulled at him, an undeniable instinct guiding him—not away from the danger, but through it.

  “…This way,” he muttered, then gritted his teeth and made a sharp turn into a cave.

  The others didn’t question it. They had no other option.

  One by one, they followed him into the labyrinth of tunnels, twisting through narrow paths and descending deeper underground. The echoes of the creatures grew distant, but the feeling of being hunted never left.

  Then—

  They emerged.

  A massive, breathtaking cavern stretched before them, glowing faintly from unknown bioluminescent minerals embedded in the walls. And in the very center, a ship.

  A colossal, ancient vessel, resting on solid ground as if it had sailed into the cavern itself.

  Its wood was charred black, yet untouched by time. Its sails—tattered, yet strong. And at its bow, a faint, ethereal mist swirled around its hull.

  Dovak’s heart pounded. His legs moved before his mind could process it. He ran to the ship, gripping its side—and without hesitation, climbed aboard.

  The moment his boots touched the deck, something shifted.

  A deep resonance filled the air, silent yet deafening.

  Dovak felt it in his bones.

  A connection. A claim.

  This ship—the Mustafar—had chosen him.

  The others, seeing him climb, moved to follow… only to be violently pushed back by an invisible force.

  Claire gritted her teeth, stumbling as she was thrown backward. “What the hell?!”

  Layla tried next, her hand reaching for the railing, but she was flung back even harder, her body slamming against the stone ground.

  “It won’t let us on!” Nyx growled, pulling herself up.

  Dovak, standing on the deck, watched in confusion.

  Then—a familiar screech.

  They turned.

  The Darkcrawlers had found them.

  A fresh horde, pouring into the cavern like a relentless flood. Dovak jumped down from the ship, landing with a heavy thud.

  “Then we fight.”

  Weapons were drawn; stances taken. The battle began.

  The cavern was filled with clashing steel, shrieks of agony, and bursts of energy.

  Dovak’s instincts were sharper than ever, his body moving with newfound precision. He cut through Darkcrawlers effortlessly, as if the ship had infused him with its strength.

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  Layla, fighting beside Lawan, was relentless—until a flash of movement caught her off guard.

  A Darkcrawler lunged, its razor-sharp appendages slashing deep into her side.

  She staggered, blood pouring from the wound. Her breath hitched.

  “Layla!”

  She fell to her knees, clutching her side—

  And the Darkcrawlers kept coming.

  Nigel was still unconscious…. and if they didn’t end this soon, more than just Layla and him would fall.

  Surrounded on all sides, the battle had become a losing fight.

  No matter how many Darkcrawlers fell, more kept coming.

  Their bodies screamed in exhaustion. Their movements slowed.

  Desperation crept in.

  “Now would be a really great time to wake up!” Claire shouted, glancing toward Nyx and Sam as they fought to protect Nigel.

  But he remained unconscious, unmoving.

  Not far from them, Lawan fought fiercely—but she was being pushed back.

  She could dodge, she could move, but her strikes were weak. The Darkcrawlers barely flinched under her attacks.

  She was tired.

  Her vision blurred. The blood loss from a wound on her leg had taken its toll.

  Her limbs felt heavier. Her breath shakier.

  But even then—

  She smiled.

  “…I don’t need to go any further.”

  With one final burst of energy, she brandished both swords and cut through multiple enemies at once.

  Layla saw her—realized what she was about to do.

  She tried to stop her—but her body was too weak.

  “Lawan, don’t!”

  Lawan turned to her, offering a small smile.

  “See you in another life.”

  Then, she activated her final ability. Her bracelet flickered, and a single notification flashed.

  Her body glowed, and the very air around her collapsed inward—

  A crushing force erupted outward, dragging the Darkcrawlers into an inescapable pull.

  The pressure intensified in an instant.

  The creatures screeched, their bodies twisting, breaking, collapsing under the immense weight, the ground itself cracked beneath them.

  The attack wiped out a significant portion of the horde, lessening the burden on the others, shielding Layla from further harm.

  But it came at a terrible cost.

  Lawan had given her own life to make it happen.

  Maybe—maybe in another time, another future, she could have done this effortlessly.

  But not now. Not like this.

  She had burned her very soul to surpass her limits one final time.

  Her body faded, breaking apart into nothingness.

  Layla watched—helpless, broken—as one of her closest friends disintegrated before her eyes.

  Tears spilled freely down her face.

  “No…” she whispered.

  Lars approached, his expression unreadable, yet his movements careful.

  He bent down, gently lifting Layla in his arms.

  She didn’t resist. She couldn’t.

  “What… what just happened?” she choked out, her voice shaking.

  Lars exhaled, his voice steady, unwavering.

  “We’ll make it through this.”

  “I think I know how to get you on board!” Dovak shouted. “The ship told me—I have to grant you permission! Well, you’ve got it! Get moving!”

  It was a strange revelation, but no one questioned it. There was no time.

  They ran toward the ship, pushing through exhaustion and pain, a desperate dash for survival.

  But chaos wasn’t finished with them yet.

  Just as they reached the stairs leading up to the deck, a sudden explosion erupted in front of them, the impact throwing them backward.

  The shockwave ripped through the air, sending bodies tumbling across the cavern floor.

  Dazed, disoriented, and still surrounded by Darkcrawlers, the group scrambled to their feet, forming a defensive stance.

  Dovak was nowhere to be seen.

  “What do we do now?!” Sam shouted, his breath ragged.

  “Hold the line! Put Nigel in the center—form a perimeter!” Layla ordered.

  They moved fast, shifting formation while Claire strained to raise a makeshift barricade using her transfiguration skills. Chunks of rock and metal shaped into cover, providing a temporary shield.

  Sam’s arms blazed with fire, the brilliant glow blinding and incinerating any Darkcrawler that came too close.

  Jin moved with precision, each stroke of his blade swift and deadly, cutting through foes with a single, perfect strike.

  Layla held the front, summoning a massive green energy shield, absorbing the brunt of the incoming attacks. Every blow she took gave the others time to strike back, and she stood firm despite of her injury.

  For a brief moment, it seemed like they had control.

  But the Darkcrawlers just kept coming.

  Lars positioned himself in the center of the group, planting his feet firmly.

  “Gimme one minute!” he bellowed.

  He raised both hands, muttering a strange incantation in a language no one recognized.

  A brilliant aura enveloped them, pulsing outward.

  Nyx suddenly collapsed to her knees.

  Sam’s head snapped toward her. “What’s wrong?!”

  “The light…” Nyx gritted her teeth, her body trembling. “It’s… burning me.”

  But Lars didn’t stop.

  He continued chanting, his voice growing stronger, deeper—until he uttered one final word.

  Jin’s eyes widened. He recognized it.

  And whatever was about to happen next… was going to change everything.

  “Grant us your light… Amaterasu.”

  The moment the words left Lars’ lips, the world erupted.

  A shockwave of golden fire expanded outward, obliterating everything beyond the glowing aura surrounding them.

  The cavern shook violently, the air superheated in an instant.

  When the brilliance faded, the battlefield was unrecognizable.

  The once-crowded terrain was now scarred with craters, the ground charred black, and small remnants of golden flames still flickered across the destruction.

  Not a single Darkcrawler remained.

  Jin rushed forward, his expression rigid with disbelief.

  “Did I… did I hear that right?” he asked, eyes locked onto Lars.

  Lars, still breathing heavily, straightened himself.

  “My… my power comes from’er,” he said, his voice rough from exhaustion.

  Jin’s breath caught in his throat.

  “You’re telling me she’s real?”

  Lars let out a slow, knowing exhale.

  “Of course, brat… they’re all real.” He wiped the sweat from his forehead. “Just not how we imagined.”

  Jin’s mind swirled with questions, but before he could bombard Lars for answers—

  A deep, resonant tremor shook the cavern.

  The air grew dense, the weight of something immense pressing down on them.

  A cold shiver ran through every single one of them.

  Then—

  A voice.

  Not spoken. Not heard.

  Felt.

  No… I cannot let them take it.

  And whatever it was—

  it was coming.

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