Chapter 30 – Changed Forever

Silence.

The kind of silence that wasn't peaceful. It was thick, suffocating, like a weight pressing down on the air itself. Hugh was the first to step toward the crater, his knees trembling as he approached the edge. He peered down, his breath catching in his throat.

The pit was deep, the walls scorched black, and at the bottom... nothing. No trace of the creature. No trace of Bastian.

"Tell me he's down there," Trixie whispered, her voice cracking. She was still hovering midair, wings struggling to keep her aloft. Her gaze darted between Hugh and Phillip, desperate for someone—anyone—to tell her this wasn't what it looked like.

"He's…" Hugh started, his voice faltering. "I don't see him."

Phillip slammed his fist into the ground, the sound echoing like a gunshot. "This wasn't supposed to happen! He was supposed to make it out!"

"Shut up!" Trixie snapped, her voice trembling with fury. "Don't you dare write him off like that! Bastian wouldn't just—he wouldn't…" Her words broke off into a choked sob.

Hugh backed away from the edge, his hands shaking. "What if… what if the creature didn't just take him out? What if it pulled him somewhere else?"

"Like where, Hugh?!" Phillip growled. "There's nowhere else to go! This is the battlefield, not some interdimensional vacation spot!"

"Phillip," Trixie said sharply, her tone enough to make him bite his tongue. She touched down next to the crater, her wings folding in as she knelt at the edge. Her fingers grazed the scorched ground, searching for anything—anything—that might tell them what happened.

She froze.

"What is it?" Hugh asked, moving closer.

Trixie didn't answer. Instead, she held up her hand. Her fingers were coated in a faint, glowing residue—light blue, like the shimmer of frost on a winter morning.

"That's… celestial energy," Phillip said, his eyes narrowing.

Trixie nodded. "And it's fresh."

The ground beneath them trembled. Not like before—not the violent shaking of a creature on the move. This was subtler, almost like a heartbeat, pulsing through the battlefield.

"What now?" Hugh muttered, gripping his blade.

The mist around the crater began to swirl, faster and faster, until it formed a dense vortex. From the center of the vortex came a sound—a low, guttural growl that seemed to vibrate through their very souls.

"Another one?" Phillip hissed, stepping back and raising his weapon.

"No," Trixie whispered, her eyes fixed on the vortex. "It's not a creature."

Before they could process her words, a figure emerged from the swirling mist. Tall, broad-shouldered, with wings that shimmered like molten silver.

"Bastian?" Trixie breathed, her voice barely audible.

But something was wrong.

As the figure stepped closer, the glow from his wings illuminated his face—or what should have been his face. His features were still recognizable, but they were sharper now, harsher. His eyes glowed an unnatural silver, devoid of their usual warmth. His skin had a faint, otherworldly sheen, as if it had been infused with raw energy.

It was Bastian. But it wasn't.

"Bastian!" Trixie cried, running toward him. She stopped short when his gaze snapped to her, cold and unyielding.

"Stay back," he said, his voice low and chilling. It wasn't a warning. It was a command.

"Bastian, what happened? Where did you—"

"Enough!" His voice boomed, and the ground beneath them shook again.

Hugh and Phillip exchanged uneasy glances, both of them gripping their weapons tightly.

"Bastian, it's us," Hugh said cautiously. "Your friends. Remember?"

Bastian's gaze flicked to them, and for a moment, something flickered in his eyes—something familiar. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared.

"The battlefield…" he said slowly, his voice devoid of emotion. "It doesn't just test you. It changes you."

"What does that even mean?" Phillip demanded, stepping forward.

Bastian didn't answer. Instead, he spread his wings, and the sheer force of energy that radiated from them sent a gust of wind that nearly knocked the others off their feet.

"I have no time to explain," he said, his tone final. "But you need to leave. Now."

"Leave?!" Trixie shouted. "We've spent years here trying to survive, and now you want us to just walk away?"

"You don't understand," Bastian said, his voice rising. "They're coming."

"Who's coming?" Hugh asked, his knuckles white around the hilt of his blade.

Bastian didn't answer. Instead, he turned his gaze to the horizon. The mist was parting again, revealing shadowy figures in the distance.

"Angels," Bastian said, his voice dripping with bitterness. "The ones who sent us here. They're coming to finish what they started."

The others followed his gaze, their stomachs sinking as the figures grew clearer.

Trixie stepped closer to Bastian, her voice shaking. "Then we fight. Together, like we always have."

"No," Bastian said, his tone sharp. "You're not strong enough. Not for them."

"Then what do you suggest?" Phillip snapped. "Run? Hide? You know damn well there's no escaping them."

Bastian's expression darkened, and for the first time, they saw something they never expected—fear.

"There's one way," he said quietly, his silver eyes locking onto Trixie's. "But you're not going to like it."

"What is it?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Bastian hesitated, his jaw clenching. Then, finally, he spoke.

"We surrender."

The words hung in the air like a death sentence, and before anyone could respond, a blinding light erupted from the horizon, signaling the arrival of the angels.

Time was up.