Lloyd hacked and slashed his way through the horde of blood-thirsty creatures, darting his eyes around the interior of the altar room in search of a promising exit. He lost track of time—how long he'd been trapped inside the altar, and surrounded by the creatures, but his mind couldn't move past one thought: Escape.
But escape seemed impossible. He searched every corner of the altar room, but the doors were locked, and the only one open was the archway that had been blasted open by Boomer. But the large crack that formed separated him from it. Sweat and blood matted his hair, and he forced himself to keep his breathing steady.
His only option left was to climb the altar pyramid.
Grabbing creatures by their heads and slicing them off, he ran to the pyramid. He locked his gaze on the top of the altar, which in turn, let him trip over a dead creature's body. The ground rushed up to meet him, and he tumbled down the stairs. His shoulder painfully hit the altar base floor, and his sword flew out of his hands. He glanced over his shoulder with a painful kink in his neck. The hordes of creatures were following him down the first set of stone stairs, ten feet away.
Lloyd swore and searched frantically for his fallen sabre. He spotted it behind him, closer to the crowd of creatures. Scrambling to his feet, he dived to the weapon, but a creature managed to snatch the blade first. Lloyd grasped the handle and flung it against the creature's arm, severing it off. Before he could react, the mass of creatures circled him. One of them managed to grab his neck, but he kicked off it in the chest. Another one snatched his right arm, baring it's teeth. Another seized his left, immobilizing him.
The creature sank it's teeth into his bicep, shredding and gashing at the flesh. Lloyd managed to pull away, but his arm was throbbing from the creature's bite. Ignoring the ache, Lloyd two-handed his sabre and lashed out at the creatures with all his strength, climbing his way to the top of the altar, his eyes pained, and his expression determined. The words written across the walls of the altar seemed to close in on him.
Nearing the top of the altar, Lloyd darted past a dead soldier, the limbs slit from the torso, and a rifle lying next to it. Taking this to his advantage, Lloyd sheathed his sword and snatched up the rifle, shooting at the creatures that got too close to him. He clenched his teeth to battle the pain. A dull throbbing pounded in his head and the black tinged the edges of his vision. He wasn't sure if the creature's bite was deadly, or not. It was either die from the creatures, or die from the bite wound, now dripping blood and a white colored substance.
Lloyd managed to make it to the top of the altar, but he kept his eyes on the creatures, continuing to fire, until the rifle gave an unsettled click. Throwing it aside, he unsheathed his sabre, preparing for the horde. But against all odds, the creatures stopped moving, staring lifelessly ahead, as if looking for something lost.
Lloyd felt a foreign and unnerving presence in the air. The throbbing doubled, and he squeezed his eyes shut, only to be met by another's. "Somewhere in your world, they tell you: This is what the people need."
The words pounded their way inside Lloyd's thoughts, and the words still lingered with a violent tremble that sent chills down his spine. "What?" Lloyd felt the world spinning around him, and he kept his sabre raised shoulder-level, directing at shadows. "Show yourself!"
"They put all that shit on me and leave me here to bleed." The words wrapped around him like a black ribbon, putting his teeth on edge. But there was a familiar ring in the tone that triggered his memory.
Etrius. Lloyd thought, whirling around. But he knew it was ridiculous. The place where he last saw Etrius was painted with blood, and Etrius wasn't there. But somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew Etrius must've had something to do with this-whatever it was. "Etrius, answer me!"
"I need you, and you need me."
The throbbing in his head grew stronger, until his vision began to seesaw in and out of focus. "Stop-" He fell to his knees, pressing his hands on his head and squeezing his eyes shut. An unfamiliar force wrapped around his brain, and the nerves in his body numbed. "Etrius! What do you think you're doing?!"
He couldn't control his thoughts, or movements, as if he were some kind of puppet.
His gaze flicked up when the rumbling that vibrated up through the ground ceased to nothing. A small voice whispered through every particle in the air, almost undecipherable. "Lloyd?" It sounded like Etrius' voice that time. But as soon as he said it, the rumbling grew louder, causing loose stones to rain from the ceiling. "Llllloooooooyyyyddd!"
Lloyd shut his eyes again, feeling a numb sensation overtake him. Something took over his body, overshadowing his thoughts. When he opened his eyes again, an ethereal light glowed in the whites of his eyes.
"Now take me to your world, human."
"I'm not doing this fucking shit. Forget it." Beecher sneered at the General, who sat directly opposite to him of the table. They both sat in an isolated, white room. The only sign of any outside existence was the locked door and large, bullet proof window on one side of the room, although no one was watching them, and the recorder was off. Just the sights of the General made Beecher pull at his handcuffs under the table, feeling the need crawling over him like frost. The need to break out of them and break the General.
"You don't have much of a choice in this one, Beecher," The General replied, not taking his eyes off reading the folders in his hands. Beecher assumed he was distracting himself because he was too much of a bitch to look at him. "I am your Commanding Officer, and I'm ordering you to return on a mission to the Castle."
"I don't have to go if I don't want to. This is a free country." Beecher fired back.
"We're in another dimension."
"Does it matter?"
The General removed his gaze from the folders and stared at Beecher's eyes, hooded with shadows and burning with hatred. He knew that Beecher was going to continue resisting, and nothing he said was going to change his mind. The General cleared his throat, "Alright, look. When we retrieved the artifact-"
"And you shot Etrius." Beecher interrupted.
The General ignored him. "And brought it back, it was empty."
Beecher cursed himself for bringing his full attention to the General. Interrogation was one thing he expected from the General, but this was something else. When Beecher didn't respond, the General continued, "I spoke with the Doctor. He said that whatever power inside the artifact was transferred to something else," He braced himself for what was to come next, "Transferred to Etrius."
Beecher remained deathly still. The only sign of life inside of his empty form was his eyes. They seemed to burn straight into the General's, making sure he was speaking the truth for once. He remembered Etrius' body lying cold on the stone floor of the altar. Fallen, and lifeless. Shattering the silence, Beecher said, "Is this some bullshit your making up to convince me to go?"
"Beecher, mankind needs that power," The General said, not having the slightest sense of impatience. He needed Beecher to come, no matter what the cost. "The Doc also said that the power transferred inside his body endured his death. He's still alive."
Alive…? The words burned their way down to Beecher's core. Fleet images of him reuniting with Etrius ran across his vision. If Etrius was alive, the empty hole inside of him would cease to exist. The path to liberation was standing inches away, but it was crawling with hatred, mistrust, and lies. Would he actually be willing to take that chance?
Beecher took one last look at the General, and a minor image of him extending an assisting hand flashed in his mind. Beecher felt like he was sinking in quicksand with seemingly no sign of escaping, and the General was the only source of hope that came with a powerful price. He sighed, and stared down at his handcuffs, coming to a decision.
"Yes sir."
Release never felt so good when someone could wander the corridors with their handcuffs off. Beecher rubbed his wrists where the handcuffs had left scarred marks. Judging by the depth of the wounds, it would take more than just a "While" to heal.
The General had told him, just before he was released, that he could not tell anyone about his imprisonment. One answer could lead to another question, then another. Oh, he promised that he wouldn't say anything. He wouldn't want to destroy his "Generous image". But as he walked the corridors, he could feel the eyes of wandering soldiers glance at him, look away, and then back again in surprise. Who could blame them? No one's seen Beecher in what seemed like forever, and suddenly finding him walking the hallways is something strange to take in.
His mind wandered to Boomer, Lloyd, and Etrius. He was forced to watch with his own eyes, as each of his teammates were forsaken in the castle. He rounded a corner. A familiar pained sensation ripped at his heart.
His eyes widened at a strange presence behind him. Someone's hands grabbed his shoulders from behind and pulled him under a set of stairs. He was shoved into a wall by someone he wasn't expecting. Someone who made him think he'd gone insane.
"Boomer?"
Boomer's eyes burned with foreign ire, but soon dissipated into confusion at the sight of his teammate. "Beecher? I—I thought you were—"
"The General told you I was dead, didn't he?" The way he spoke made the General sound so predictable towards these kinds of situations. "Don't believe what he says anymore, and don't trust him with anything." Beecher made it look like he was keeping his word with the General about not telling anyone, but telling Boomer was something else.
Boomer let this sink in for a moment, then suddenly remembering that it was the General who left all his teammates behind. "I should've known better than to believe him. But I didn't see you in the facility."
"You'd be surprised that they actually built a confinement in this place."
"So that bastard threw you in prison?"
"He thought I knew too much."
"His point?"
Beecher hesitated. Boomer had the right to know about what the General did to their team leader, and who he really was on the inside, but he couldn't just drop it on him. Sucking in a deep breath, he said, "What did the General ask you when you got back?"
Boomer groped around his memory for what the General was questioning about earlier. "Something about the altar room. He wanted to know if I saw anything suspicious."
"Predictable," It was obvious that the General wanted to make sure Boomer didn't know anything about what he did at the top of the altar. Boomer didn't stop staring at him. "What do you mean, 'predictable'?"
Beecher didn't realize he was holding his breath. He let it out shakily, bracing himself.
Taking one more doubtful glance over his shoulder to make sure no one was following; the General let himself inside the research area. He easily spotted Romanov, sitting hunched over a research table clustered with tubes, notes, and equipment. None of the other scientists were working in the lab, so they didn't have to hear that the artifact was empty. He cleared his throat. "Dr. Romanov."
Dr. Romanov's head flicked up at the sound of his voice. Bags of sleep deprivation darkened under his eyes. He hadn't slept since his escape from the castle, studying the orb's contents, trying desperately to find a small leftover source of power—anything. The only accomplishment was failure.
"General, I've looked it all over, and found nothing. It's empty, completely." Romanov was speaking so fast, it took him a minute to process his own words.
"And it's why we've agreed to return to the castle. We can't afford to lose any more men inside that place, so I'm going to begin assembling the Elite Team. We'll return to the last place the power fell." He took a seat near the table, examining the orb closely.
"Yes, I've heard," Romanov replied, summarizing the General's earlier words. "The power transferred into Etrius' body, and he died as a result of the overdose."
The General nodded, pushing the slightest flicker of emotion in his eyes. "And you've also agreed to come along with us once more."
"I still hold the deal," Romanov said quickly, sudden images flashing through his mind. "I stay outside the altar room, and you'll follow my orders if anything threatening appears."
"I haven't forgotten," The General said, standing on his feet. "I'm gathering the men to prepare, and then we're on our way."
Hours later, Beecher and Boomer entered the designated chopper to find the General sitting at one of passenger seats, as if he's been waiting for hours. He stood up as soon as he saw Beecher and Boomer emerge into the chopper. He expected Boomer to pummel him after him after lying about Beecher, but he just pretended not to notice the General, as if he didn't exist. The General assumed Beecher told him not to do anything.
The General decided to cover up the moment with one of his convincing discourses. "Men, the mission's objective is to find the source of power—aka, Etrius—and return it untouched. There's no telling how many creatures are in the Castle, and we can't afford to lose any more men with us. We're solely going in, getting the power, and getting the fuck back out. Anything else that moves, shoot it."
Beecher suddenly remembered Lloyd. The last moment he saw him in the altar room on the opposite side of the trench, the crevice widening the space between him and the exit. Lloyd had been able to slip out of tricky situations before, but Beecher wasn't too sure about this one. 'Shoot anything that moves', my ass. He thought, fighting the urge to scream it out. He knew he needed to do something about the General for shooting Etrius, but he said he didn't have a choice. He could be lying, but Beecher wanted more information before he tried anything that would end up stupid.
It was at this time when Dr. Romanov stepped into the chopper, carrying the two books and the orb, which he tucked safely in his pocket. His once eager expression to explore something otherworldly now abandoned his face, replaced with grave eyes.
"Ready, doc?" The General asked, ready to give the pilot the order for takeoff.
A lifeless nod was Romanov's only reply.
The chopper made a sudden lurch, and it ascended into the grey sky, flying in the direction of the Castle.
Hours passed, and the tension only grew stronger. What were they going to do once they arrived at the Castle? Would they get attacked again? Was Etrius even going to be there when they made it to the peak of the altar?
Boomer risked a glance the General, who was deep in a low conversation with Dr. Romanov. Beecher leaned in to Boomer's ear, and whispered, "Something's not right with him. When I give you the signal, hold him at gunpoint."
Boomer glanced at Romanov, and whispered back, "What about the doc?"
"Don't worry about him. He's going to be waiting at the entrance of the altar room. That'll give us enough time to—"
The General glanced at Beecher and Boomer, and they both flicked their gazes the opposite way. The General resumed his conversation with Romanov and Boomer leaned to his left, whispering to Beecher, "So do you think Etrius really is where you last saw him?"
"Let's just hope so."
Boomer was anxious enough when the Castle began to faintly loom into view through the thick fog. He spotted the altar tower, centering the Castle's four turrets. He imagined Etrius' body lying cold on the stone floor of the altar, and immediately started thinking about Lloyd. Did he manage to escape the altar? All the doors were blocked off, and those creatures behind him looked pretty hungry.
Whether Lloyd escaped or not, or whether Etrius was still on the altar, both Boomer and Beecher prepared themselves for the blood shower.
"Uh, Sir?" The pilot muttered from the cockpit.
"What is it, Pilot?" The General stood up and made his way to the cockpit.
"I think you might want to have a look at this."
The General glanced out the helicopter window, and overlooked the courtyard… Which was no longer there. "What in the fuck happened to the courtyard?"
Boomer chose to remain silent. Romanov found whatever was going on to be interesting, and joined the General and Pilot in the cockpit. Beecher glanced out the window in the cockpit, and turned back to Boomer in question.
"Brace yourself. We got on the busted up chopper, being chased by some sort of black mist. The mist devoured the courtyard, and one of the dragons emerged from the hole where the courtyard was supposed to be."
Beecher wasn't entirely surprised. Beecher had seen enough shit happen inside the Castle for his unsurprised personality to kick in. Anyone could walk up to him, show them his arm cut clean off, and not get a reaction.
The General's voice was heard from the cockpit. "Whatever happened, we'll find somewhere else to land the chopper. If that dragon is still there, we don't want to wake it again."
Beecher gave a frown. Dragon. He remembered Etrius having to battle one of them on the mission to the first castle. Now there was a second one in the third castle?
"The bridge seems eligible for landing." The pilot pointed at the bridge that connected with the altar tower.
"Then we'll depart there." The General announced before each of them agreed.
The Pilot guided the chopper to the altar bridge, and landed gradually on the surface. The team waited for the spinning rotors to die down before they hopped off the chopper, and faced the altar tower. The General turned to the pilot before saluting. "Wait for us to come back. If you see anything strange, or if we don't come back after an hour, leave."
The pilot returned the salute as the team ventured to the altar room.