Tethered to Darkness
The night seemed darker than before, pressing down on Etherea like the weight of an ancient, forgotten sin. The floating city, once gleaming with silver spires, was now shrouded in an eerie silence, broken only by the faint hum of the wind. Orion’s breaths came in ragged gasps as the amulet pulsed against his chest, no longer just draining him but pulling—tugging—like invisible claws hooked into his very soul.
He leaned harder against the railing, his knuckles white, the paper bird long gone. Below, the abyss yawned open, a black void hungry for the fall of a man who had lost too much already. Focus. But his thoughts scattered like dead leaves in a storm, disintegrating under the pressure of the cursed artifact that pulsed in sync with his heart, threatening to pull him apart.
“Orion.” Cass’s voice wasn’t a mere distraction this time; it was a lifeline cutting through the gale. “This ends you. Now.”
He turned, for once not avoiding her gaze, though it nearly shattered him to see the fury there—fury and something worse, something like fear. Her coffee cup trembled slightly in her hands, fingers locked around the sides like a vice. The smiley face she’d doodled earlier felt obscene now, a taunt. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen her smile in earnest.
“If you go in there with that thing still on you, you won’t come back,” she said, voice low and hard.
“It’s not about me.”
Cass flung the cup to the ground, shattering it against the metal beneath their feet. “Dammit, Ori! It’s always been about you! You’re the one tethered to that thing!” Her hand shot forward, finger stabbing toward his chest. “And now it’s killing you.”
The amulet pulsed in response, as if recognizing the accusation, sending a sharp wave of pain through Orion’s body. He winced, but he didn’t let it show, not in front of her. Cass had always been the strong one—the unwavering flame at his side when everything else had collapsed. But even flames burned out, didn’t they?
“We don’t have time for this.” His voice was rough, cracking under the strain, but he pushed past her, eyes forward. “They’re already close.”
She grabbed his arm, her grip firm despite the tremor in her voice. “You won’t survive this. And I’m not going to watch you die.”
Orion froze, the words crashing against him like waves of ice water. For a moment, just a breath, he let himself feel the weight of her fear. But he couldn’t stop. Not now. Etherea was at stake, and there was no room for doubt. “You won’t have to watch. I’ll stop them before it comes to that.”
Cass’s grip tightened, nails digging into his skin. “You don’t get it, do you? That thing is eating you alive. You’ll be dead before we even reach the Tower.”
Her words burned, but there was no time for wounds. He wrenched his arm free, the pain in his chest intensifying as the cursed amulet throbbed faster, like it was feeding off the tension between them. “If we don’t stop them, the Chancellor dies tonight, and then Etherea falls.” His voice was hard, unrelenting. He needed her to understand, to trust him one last time. “We don’t have the luxury of fear, Cass.”
Cass’s face hardened, her eyes glistening with an emotion she refused to let surface. She stepped aside, but not before she whispered, “I believe in you, Ori. I always have. But that belief won’t bring you back from the dead.”
He swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded once before moving forward, his steps heavy with the weight of the amulet and the growing darkness inside him.
They made their way through Etherea’s shadowed streets, weaving between floating platforms and quiet alleyways. The city, once bustling with light and life, now felt hollow. Each step brought Orion closer to the Tower District, and closer to the assassin he knew was waiting. His vision blurred, the weight of the cursed amulet pulling at his mind, his body. But he pressed on. *He had to.*
Cass moved beside him, silent now, her eyes scanning the dark corners of the city for threats. She’d always been the fighter—the one who saw danger before it struck. But tonight, her eyes flicked to him more often than to the shadows. She was waiting for him to fall, and deep down, he feared she might be right.
“There,” he whispered hoarsely, his voice barely audible over the wind. Ahead, a figure cloaked in black slipped through a side entrance to the Tower. The assassin.
Cass cursed under her breath, her hand instinctively reaching for the dagger at her belt. “What’s the plan?”
Orion’s legs trembled beneath him, the amulet’s power sucking the life from him faster now. He could barely stand. He gritted his teeth, forcing the words out. “We stop them.”
Cass’s jaw clenched, and in that moment, she made a decision he couldn’t follow. Without a word, she sprinted toward the assassin, moving with a speed and grace that left Orion standing frozen, his limbs leaden, his mind fogged by pain.
“Go!” she shouted over her shoulder, her voice carrying on the wind. “I’ll handle this!”
Orion wanted to stop her, to shout that he was the one who had to face the assassin, but the words never came. His legs buckled, and he stumbled toward the door, every step a battle. He could hear Cass fighting behind him—the clash of metal on metal, the grunts of exertion—but he couldn’t turn back. *The bomb.* He had to stop it.
He staggered into the Chancellor’s chambers, the room bathed in the cold blue glow of Etherea’s floating lights. The bomb sat beneath the grand desk, ticking down with cold precision. Orion’s hands shook as he knelt beside it, every nerve in his body screaming for rest. But he couldn’t rest. Not yet.
He fumbled with the wires, his vision swimming as the amulet pulsed again, harder this time. The darkness clawed at his consciousness, but he fought it back, his fingers working with desperate speed. The seconds ticked away. The world grew dim. But then—click—the timer stopped.
Orion collapsed to the floor, the cold stone pressing against his cheek, his body shaking uncontrollably as the darkness crept in, thick and suffocating. The amulet pulsed one final time, sending a shockwave of pain through him so intense he thought it might rip him apart. His vision flickered, then faded.
The last thing he saw before unconsciousness claimed him was Cass, standing over the defeated assassin, her face streaked with blood and sweat, but victorious.
“You did it, Ori,” she whispered, her voice breaking with relief.
A weak smile touched his lips before the world went black.
They had saved the city.
But Orion knew, deep in the fading recesses of his mind, that tomorrow would bring new shadows—and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could stand in the light.
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