The light of Zariel’s sword was immediately snuffed out by the darkness. It wrapped around his arm until he could no longer move his shield. There was no trace of his raid team or Zantori Citadel. With all his might, Zariel pulled against the enormous resistance that bound his sword arm. It was no use. They were like chains. Worse. All he could do was watch as he was pulled through an unknown sea of shadows and silhouettes each indistinguishable in their various shades of black.
“Release me!” he roared into the abyss, but there was no response.
Zariel’s mind raced with possibilities. Was this some sort of final stand? A last-ditch effort by Zantor? They had been so close. Even a novice paladin wielding a trainee’s sword and shield could have slain the demon at such low health. He knew something was wrong, but he did not want to admit it to himself. Not yet. Victory had been in their grasp. The more he resisted, the more the shadows constricted. A paladin trapped in his own armor, surrounded by the absence of light and stripped of his own. This was not part of the raid he had set out to conquer.
Zariel swore those responsible would face his wrath.
Little did he know he was not alone.
A pluck of a string. A single note in the silent expanse.
“Help!”
A chord.
A rhythmic melody was abruptly cut off before it could resolve.
“It’s rude to interrupt a song!”
There was someone else. A silhouette was being dragged parallel to him.
“You!” Zariel shouted. “Can you hear me?”
“I’ll shove my rifle up your ass, Zantor!”
Another voice, this one more vulgar and crude.
The paladin frowned.
“I’m not—”
“And then I’ll blast my way in there and get it back! Damn thing took me twenty runs of—AAA!”
The figure was pulled high up into the shrouded sky and disappeared behind what seemed like branches. But if that was the case, the tree was growing upside down. Its roots were in the dark expanse where the clouds would ordinarily be. There was light at last—faint, but enough for Zariel to know there was something more than an endless void of unusual shapes and silhouettes.
Zariel’s armor scraped against dirt and rock.
Metal screeched.
A powerful flash overwhelmed his eyes.
He saw it all for a fleeting moment. A tower that reached to heights unknown. The ruined castle at its base. Pieces of floating land with strange trees growing from their undersides. The air was dry. It had no smell, but it stung his throat with every breath. Each inhale sapped his energy, enough that he began to slow his breathing on purpose.
[Zariel has entered ???]
A push.
He was thrust forward into the blinding light.
Zariel stood inside a tower free of light or dark. It existed in a dull gray of neither. He took off his gauntlet and watched as the last specks of color left his skin and left it the tint of ash. Seven others appeared around the perimeter of the tower. Their vibrant armor and weapons shimmered amongst the monochromatic landscape. And then, they too were stripped of their hues.
[All Raid Members have been Afflicted with Memories of Tomorrow
In the center of the desolate tower, floating above the eight was an enormous being unlike any other. It was humanoid in shape, but it lacked any defining characteristics. Two halves of shadow were connected by a sliver of pale light that bisected it. For a moment, he wondered if the halves were fusing or separating.
Instinctively, he raised his sword and shield. It did not matter.
The paladin knew all too well what it resembled—a raid boss.
Large blocks of stone rose from the floor, forming a floating web of platforms in the sky around the being. On the other side of the room, one of the seven jumped onto a trembling piece of ground. They kept their balance as they were lifted into the sky, clutching a rifle as they did so.
A dull light shone from the barrel.
A gunner’s attack.
Instantly, orbs of light and dark shot out from the strange being and barraged the platform they stood on.
“Argh!”
The gunner fell, crashing onto the ground with a loud thump beside Zariel.
“Zantor… You’ll pay…”
She was barely alive.
“This is not Zantor,” Zariel said, kneeling beside her. “Stay still.”
Her colorless eyes slowly fell as the paladin placed his hands over her.
A light wrapped around Zariel’s gauntlets.
A burst of holy radiance filled the arena, momentarily revealing the colors that had been stolen. The gunner rose. Now fully healed by the paladin and with a fury in her amber eyes, she took aim.
“Thanks pal, now it’s time for reve—"
Zariel’s powerful healing spell, the only one of its magnitude that he could muster, had caught the attention of their foe. It was devoid of any features besides the vague human shape it held.
And yet…
Zariel knew it was looking at him. Orbs of swirling white and black emerged from the creature. They were coming. He stood in front of the gunner and braced himself. The orbs detonated, but not on Zariel.
A leather-wrapped figure stood on the platform in front of the boss, her axes interlocked as she endured the bursting blasts.
“Oh no! This is a disaster!”
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Then, a small cleric came running up to the gunner and Zariel. She frantically waved her wand, sending healing energies soaring up towards the warrior on the platform.
“I-I wasn’t prepared for this at all…” she said, taking rapid, shallow breaths. “I thought Zantor was the final boss?”
The panting cleric keeled over. Yet she still managed to point her wand at the two of them to bestow
“She’s in worse shape than I was…” the gunner remarked.
Zariel looked at the cleric and gunner. He felt as if he knew them. Perhaps he had joined them on a quest long ago, he thought. No, it was a stronger feeling than passing familiarity.
“WHY. WONT. YOU. DIE!”
The warrior on the platform relentlessly swung her axes, but the enemy appeared unfazed by her assault. A fireball crashed into the back of the boss’s head. It dissipated instantly. Lingering flames were robbed of their color before vanishing into the air.
“It’s… so exhausting…”
The cleric’s arms wobbled as she kept herself from collapsing entirely onto the floor.
“Rise, cleric!”
A sudden, melodic tune swept across the tower chamber. Zariel watched as a bard rode a platform into the air.
“Our song is just beginning!”
She held the harp-violin hybrid in one arm and dragged her bow across the strings with a finesse and grace that contrasted the gloomy, unnatural tower they found themselves in. Slowly, the cleric began to stand on her own power.
“Keep her alive,” Zariel told the gunner as he made for a piece of quivering stone.
The paladin and the bard’s eyes met as he ascended.
“My harplin is at your service!” she proclaimed with a smile.
He didn’t have a chance to reply. He was flying even higher. In only a few moments, the platform arrived at the highest plane and interlocked with the piece of stone the warrior stood on. The axe-wielding warrior continued her assault, breathing heavily in short, strained huffs.
Her strikes were slowing.
“Why. Wont. You—"
Another orb collided with the warrior, but she continued all the same.
“I’ll take things from here,” Zariel said, raising his shield and stepping forward.
“I’ll be damned if I let a paladin tank my battles,” she spat.
Her attacks resumed their relentless pace under the warrior’s stern expression. But he could tell she was trying to mask her true state. Zariel was no stranger to the bad blood between paladins and warriors. He was above such things, and so he set his attention on gaining the boss’s attention.
The being was a mystery to him. It was difficult to tank something he did not understand. The thin line of light emanating from its center was glowing brighter and brighter, undoing the threads of shadow that kept the two halves bound.
An arm of shadow swung down at the warrior.
She barely managed to leap out of the way in time.
Zariel raised his shield moments before a newly formed arm attacked him. Meanwhile, the orbs continued to barrage the warrior. Even with the bard and cleric healing her, there was a limit to her vitality. Zariel could sense she was quickly approaching it. He raised his sword, coating it in a shimmering light.
He swung the blade, hoping to draw the ire of their foe and give the warrior some reprieve.
An orb slammed into him and burst. The shockwave ripped through his armor, striking at his bones and flesh. He held his ground.
But his faith wavered.
[IMMUNE]
He attacked again.
[IMMUNE]
“This is my battle!”
The warrior shoved him aside, and the being’s four arms slammed down on the warrior in retribution. More orbs. Zariel intercepted them just in time, taking the brunt of the impact.
“Damn it all,” the warrior muttered under her breath.
Six arms were pummeling her.
“We can’t keep this up!” the cleric shouted from below.
“Listen to her!” the bard echoed over the sounds of her healing strings.
Two new dark arms emerged. Eight now. At any moment, the being would be split in two by the growing light that stretched vertically down the center of its body.
Two halves.
Zariel had an idea. They needed to survive. Then, they could worry about dealing damage.
“Take the right half,” he commanded.
“Speak sense, paladin!” the warrior rebutted.
Zariel pushed her back to her side of the platform, but she didn’t budge. Two more arms, five on each half. The warrior was barely standing. Her face was covered in bruises and blood.
“We’ll both tank. Take the right half, I’ll take the left.” Zariel explained.
She shook her head. Her gaze unyielding. There was a foe before her, and she would kill it or die trying.
Suddenly, darkness fell over them. Two gargantuan arms blocked out the sky and the infinite tower overhead.
“Do it if you want to live!” the paladin commanded. The arms stretched far into the sky and prepared to strike. They would not simply crush the two tanks, but everyone down below. Begrudgingly, the warrior stepped aside.
Instantly, most of the arms disappeared, and the two of them tanked a single hit from their respective arms.
They had survived. At least, long enough for Zariel to breathe a sigh of relief.
“Surprise.”
From behind the boss, a rogue emerged from stealth. He held up two daggers, each dripping with venom, and plunged them deep into the seam of light. Instantly, the potent venom evaporated.
A burst of light erupted from behind the boss.
“Damn.”
The rogue was sent into the depths below by the burst. Hopefully, the cleric could heal him.
“Good.”
Zariel looked at the warrior in disbelief.
“If there’s anything I hate more than paladins, it’s cowardly rogues,” she said, her voice dripping with contempt.
She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. Despite her stubbornness and rough exterior, she could not hide the desperation in her expression.
“Why can’t we damage this thing?”
The paladin did not have an answer. But he couldn’t die. If this was part of Zantori Citadel, then this was the final trial. He could not quit now, not after his team had gotten this far. The paladin willed himself to carry on.
“My auras will turn the tide.”
Standing behind them was a chanter, recently arrived from the ground floor and wielding the class’s unique staff. He slammed it into the ground and shared his party-wide buffs.
“About time,” the warrior grumbled.
With a guttural yell, she charged at the boss.
[IMMUNE]
“Turn the tide, hah!” she yelled, continuing her attack all the same despite the futility.
Zariel had no better ideas. The three of them attacked together, and color began to creep back into the chamber. He could not be certain if it was the chanter’s buffs or their combined attack, but something was happening.
A wave of color pulsed across the room.
??? [██??????????????????] 10%
“Good comes to those who wait,” the chanter said calmly, effortlessly spinning his staff with incredible control before pummeling the boss with it once more. “Victory will soon be ours.”
Zariel did not know who these allies were, nor did he know what raid he had been taken to. But what he did know was that he was grateful for their aid, and he would protect them for as long as he could.
As a paladin, that was his oath.
As a tank, that was his duty.
He steeled himself for another impact. Instead, the last threads of shadow that held the two halves of shadow became undone. An overwhelming burst of sterilizing, unfeeling light swept over them, erasing any trace of color that had returned. When Zariel’s vision returned to him, he saw the two dark halves disjointed at last. They rose into the sky, leaving a remnant behind.
A figure of pure light, no taller than Zariel.
No armor.
No weapon.
Just a body composed of a painful, unyielding light.
It raised its hands to the sky, and the tower’s walls fell. There was an entire world outside of the tower. Zariel saw places he had been to—raids he had conquered. They were few and far between. Anchors of familiarity in the unfamiliar landscape.
[??? casts ]
It all plunged into shadow.
A sickly darkness gnawed at Zariel’s back. From his front, the being’s sterilizing light pierced through his flesh and armor.
“Such power…” The warrior held her axes in front of her face, desperately trying to shield her eyes.
The chanter knelt down beside Zariel and crossed his legs, laying his staff over his knees.
“Accept defeat. Learn. And try again.”
The platforms fell back onto the ground.
Now, all eight of them were together.
A warrior.
A chanter.
A rogue.
A warlock.
A gunner.
A bard.
A cleric.
[█???????????????????]
The paladin held up his shield.
“Get behind me!”
“T-thanks,” the cleric said, leaning against Zariel’s cold metal armor.
“Don’t thank me yet,” he replied.
A warlock’s orb rolled between Zariel’s feet.
Zariel looked back.
The warlock’s eyes were wide with amazement.
“This magic is far beyond anything I know,” he said, turning to the rest of the group. “Where are we?”
The figure descended before them.
“YOU ARE AT THE END.”
[███?????????????????]
Zariel lowered his shield.
“That’s impossible…”
A being of pure, cold light. It held a single orb of darkness that was growing between its hands.
Overhead, the shadowed halves soared through the air, as if they were celebrating their victory.
“YOU WILL NOT SEE TOMORROW.”
[███████████?????????]
