Chapter 53 — Appearance of the Cultists
The peak of the mountain roared like a mythic beast. Stone teeth jutted skyward, snow lashed like knives, and the sky churned with stormlight. Dawn stood at the edge of the maw, his ragged black hair whipping behind him, his storm-grey eyes flickering with a hidden ember.
This was the place. The apex of the mystical range. The place where fate cracked and destiny was forged.
He'd made it.
The wind tried to throw him off. The cold bit into the marrow. But his steps were unyielding.
He stared into the volcano. It didn't bubble. It didn't spit.
It breathed. Slowly. Like something alive waited within.
Dawn didn't hesitate.
He leapt.
The cold died first.
Then came the pressure—crushing, searing, relentless. The lava did not consume him. It coiled around him like serpents of molten judgment. His Mortal Shell cracked and hissed as the Resonant Layer buckled and the Luminous Frame split like an overripe fruit.
But something within him—old, forgotten, and angry—rose to meet it.
Infernal Mantle.
It didn't cloak him. It grew from him. Feeding on the lava around a searing Black fire with a molten core, sinuous and alive, wrapped around his dissolving frame.
And then—
Beep. Beep. Beep.
His eyes snapped up. A strange device, etched in archaic runes, was falling toward him. It pulsed with dark energy, clearly not of this era.
Above, on the lip of the volcano, stood a robed figure. His cloak shimmered with symbols in blood-red, each glowing like a whisper from a dead god. A strange device hummed softly at his belt, keeping the murderous cold at bay.
He sneered, clearly unaware of what Dawn was attempting—but his intent was unmistakable.
Sabotage.
Dawn's shadow twitched.
And expanded.
From it rose a monstrous shape, its form jagged and cruel. The beeping device never reached him—it was caught midair by a clawed limb of shadow and returned in kind.
The explosion ripped the cultist from the ledge, flames licking at his cloak as he vanished in a tumble.
Dawn turned back toward the flame. The transformation was not yet done.
And he would not rise until it was.
---
Scattered Across the Wilderness…
Gary Amberson stood before an altar crowned with crystalline shards, golden light from his twelve halos pushing back the illusions and biting cold. He was cautious—his Astral Embodiment remained dormant, only the basic channeling through halos available to first years.
Even so, his body radiated control.
Then, without warning, a presence flared behind him.
He turned—just in time to block a blade made of obsidian mist with his forearm, golden halo flaring.
A robed figure. Alien. Ancient. And very real.
Gary's heart pounded—not at the attack, but the implication.
They shouldn't be here. No one told us about a 3rd party
Another slash came. He parried, gritting his teeth. The halo glowed brighter as he countered—his technique raw but decisive.
The cultist stumbled back. Not defeated, but wary.
Gary took position again.
Who the hell are you people?
---
Ingrid Lorne stared at an ancient mechanism hidden behind a waterfall of ice. Her fingers moved delicately, turning the puzzle. Eight halos shimmered behind her, fueling her mental state and vision clarity. It was working.
She smiled.
And then—
Cold steel touched her throat.
She froze.
The reflection in the ice showed a robed figure, completely silent, standing just behind her.
Before she could react—pain. Her knees buckled as pressure exploded against her spine. A second cultist. Runes glowed red-hot across their hands as they touched her halo system directly.
Ingrid screamed—and then was gone.
---
Cedric Vaughn smashed open a vault door with his bare fists, Infernal Mantle coating his arms like magma crust. The ten halos pulsed faintly—his control imperfect, but growing.
Inside, a burning forge waited. His prize.
He took a step in—and that's when the spear came.
It punched through his side, spinning him off his feet.
He landed hard, blood hissing on molten stone.
Two figures walked in, one with a jagged crown of bones, the other whispering in some dead tongue.
Cedric forced himself up, Mantle flickering, halos pulsing dimly.
"Cowards," he spat.
Then another spear came, and the forge swallowed him in flame and pain.
---
Elias Dunheart sat cross-legged atop a tower of broken statues, watching a black sun shimmer on the horizon.
He wasn't surprised when they came.
Two cultists materialized from the wind itself. Symbols bleeding off their robes, power ancient and heavy.
Elias didn't even open his eyes.
The runes along his arms burned.
The cultists hesitated.
Too late.
His Cosmic Lattice flared to life, lines of force intersecting in midair, rearranging their internal flows— causing an explosive bu4st of shockwave to ripple outward and push the two figures. They held out their hands and managed to block them, but not without struggling .
Elias opened his eyes. Cold.
" Who the hell are you people?"
---
Isodora Valcrest stood beneath a petrified tree where silver leaves drifted endlessly. Her hands cupped a droplet of starlight, her face serene.
Then came the crunch of snow.
She looked up. A robed figure approached, limping. Another behind him, dragging some sort of relic cage.
Her halos pulsed faintly, and the Cosmic Lattice lit her skin like a star map.
"I won't be fighting you anytime soon," she whispered.
The cultists raised their hands—
And then the ground cracked.
The sky hummed.
A ripple burst from her body, and the silver leaves shot forward like knives. One of them raised their hand and a protective Ward manifested to block the leaves but was cut apart, wounding them. They retreated, having grossly underestimated the strength of some targets.
Isodora lowered her hands, still peaceful.
But never defenseless.
---
Back in the volcano, Dawn howled—not in pain, but reclamation.
The Infernal Mantle took root in him. Cloaked him in fury, rebirth, and molten wrath.
Above, the remaining cultists felt it. One among them clutched a crystal orb, now cracking from within.
"He's stabilizing," the cultist whispered. "He's… succeeding."
Another hissed, "We came to disrupt children. Not awaken monsters."
But it was too late.
The fire was rising.
---
To be continued