Chapter 153: The Rift Unleashed
The jungle shook and the very air was abuzz with chaos of the Riftstorm. The trees crooked in extremely abnormal ways, their trunks splitting and fragmenting like obsolete coding. Below their feet the ground cracked open: jagged chasms appeared, which appeared ready to devour everything they came into contact with. The skies which were a deep azure had now transformed into a churning vortex of warped colors, a kaleidoscope of destruction oozing through the very material of the universe.
And then, coming out from the heart of the storm, the Dark First Hero appeared.
His presence was an influence which distorted the world around him. The corrupt figure fluttered, his being unstable like a part of him was still stuck in the game's code –some sort of anomaly, a glitch in the reality itself. His eyes were ablaze with a cold, unnatural light that betrayed the madness that roiled inside of him.
"You think you can stop the Rift?" The voice was hollow and echoed as a broken melody. His laughter was similar to the noise of old machinery. "The game was never meant to be saved—only controlled."
The group froze. His words seemed to be poisoned and remained hanging in the air and sank in their minds.
Natasha's heart skipped a beat. This was not some rouge figure. This was itself the very centre of the storm which threatened to engulf them all. But his words… They pointed to something much darker than they ever thought it was. Controlled? The Riftstorm wasn't simply a case of natural disaster; it was a thing from within, a system that was meant to tear them apart.
"What does he mean?" Ira's voice quivered and her otherwise cool composure disrupted. Her golden eyes flashed; weak light dimmed under burden of the revelation.
Moving forward, Alison had clenched jaw. "Whatever it is, we don't have time to figure it out. The storm is coming for us."
And as she spoke, the jungle around them seemed to bend and the ground underneath them tremble as the Riftstorm thundered towards them like a steam train, pounding and stuttering in its beat, ready to split open all before it. The mutated creatures that had once been disfigured and deformed by the storm suddenly emerged from the bowels of the jungle, unidentifiable to others and their bodies monstrous, feasting on the devastation that was left behind.
It was changing as quickly as the second — paths appearing and disappearing, the ground buckling as if literally the laws of nature had become no more than recommendations instead of commandments.
"I can feel it…" Natasha muttered, her voice strained. It is taking advantage of our fear. Our hesitation…"
Alison looked at her and his eyes softened. "Natasha—"
But she interrupted him, and her voice was sharp. I am not afraid of the storm. I'm scared of how it is affecting us. What it's doing to you."
The words are like a blow, a crevice in the base of their union. Some of her desired to connect with him, to grab him and cling on to the link that had held them together from this madness. Something was changing though- something within her – within them. The Riftstorm wasn't only an opposing force, it was an endurance force and went after their weaknesses.
Alison stretched her hand out, and he took hers. "We need to survive, Natasha. No matter the cost. Together."
But the burden of his words, (of the choice falling between them) was too heavy. Could she give up everything in which they had struggled for? Could she sacrifice the one person who turned out being her anchor in this broken world? The Rift was pushing them into their limits, trying their resistance. She could sense the coil around them, the fine threads of their connection wearing paper thin.
Ira's voice broke the silence with its sense of urgency. "We can't hesitate. The Riftstorm is alive. It lives on doubt, it lives on fear. The longer we dwell in the unsettledness, the stronger the unsettledness becomes".
With those words, Ira's golden light flared and buzzed hummed in the air. She moved forward, and her hands moved about in the air as she attempted to access whatever remained of her magic. Sparks came out of her fingers but that was not enough to hold the storm back. The Riftstorm thudded again, a black tide growing and coming towards them.
The heart of Natasha was beating in the chest. She looked at Alison, but before she could open her mouth, he took one step forward, his face grave with determination.
"I will not allow you to go through this alone," he said with a stern voice but soft in tone.
"I—" Natasha tried to say, but he placed a hand there to interrupt her.
'I'm not afraid of this game' he whispered and their eyes met. "I am scared of losing you, Natasha".
With another word, he had gone, darting off to the Rift, straight into the middle of the storm. The Riftstorm roared and its tendrils clawed out and tore into his body but Alison didn't hesitate. His appearance fluttered, same as the corrupted First Hero, but he didn't flinch. He made an effort, his body being broken down by the energy of the Rift.
"No!" Natasha screamed but the words were carried by the wind.
Alison got into the centre of the Rift, where the Dark First Hero was, waiting. While the storm raged all around, Alison stood firm, a torch of rebellion in the storm.
And then, as if declaring the ultimate act of defiance, Alison went right into the heart of the Riftstorm.
The world shook.
A flood of energy burst open the Rift. The earth shook beneath their feet with violent shaking when the Riftstorm broke. There was a pause for a moment – a pause in the madness.
Natasha was motionless with her heart beating in her throat, confusion spinning in her head. The Rift was splitting up but the calm did not last long. The Dark First Hero's eyes burned with wrath, and he bellowed like a thunder clap. "This isn't over! You're all doomed!"
The Riftstorm started to recover itself, but something was different. A dim yellow radiance, that was almost like Ira's magic, seeped through the cracks of the Rift. It was vulnerable, feeble-minded but it was still enough. Enough to give them hope.
Natasha's eyes filled with tears as she looked at the light, struggling to breathe. Was this the end of the beginning or was there still hope that they could be rescued?
A voice called from Rift – clear and cold. "One must remain. One must fall."
Natasha's eyes widened. She could sense it – the burden of this choice that was laid on her. She turned around briefly and looked at the group, her heart feeling heavy, her mind caught in the ties they had made and the resounding pressure of the storm.
Natasha breathed deeply, her heart stabilising with one last look at the others.
"I won't let any more of us fall," she whispered, her voice filled with resolve. "We fight until the end."
And with that, she stepped forward, the weight of her decision pressing down on her, but her resolve unshaken. The Riftstorm raged, but they would not break. Not yet. Not while there was still a fight left to be won.