Part 7: Prope Finem

Erik's world was a blur of smoke and confusion. He had been separated from Dorian, and for what seemed like hours, he had been moving through the battlefield, fighting when he had to, hiding when he didn't have a choice. The sounds of combat were all around him—the crack of pulse rifles, the clash of swords—but through the thick haze, there was an eerie stillness that unnerved him. It was as though the world had paused, holding its breath in anticipation.

He was crouched behind a ruined building, his chest heaving with exertion as he peered cautiously out over the battlefield. The Malum forces were still scattered across the war-torn landscape, but the intensity of their assault had diminished. The air felt too still, almost too quiet, and Erik couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

The fog that had descended over the battlefield was beginning to lift, the dense smoke giving way to a hauntingly calm atmosphere. The distant sounds of the battle seemed muffled, as if even the very earth had grown tired of the violence. But the soldiers of House Decus, though weary and scattered, did not surrender. Erik had seen them, his comrades—fighting with every ounce of strength they had left, refusing to back down. But the longer the battle stretched on, the more desperate their situation became.

On cue, the Malum soldiers—who had been pushing forward-suddenly stopped.

Erik blinked in disbelief as he watched the enemy forces lower their weapons and step back, their movements slow, almost deliberate. The battlefield fell into an unnatural silence. The Malum soldiers stood at the ready, but their posture was no longer aggressive. There was a sense of anticipation in the air, a collective pause as if they were waiting for something.

Erik's instincts screamed at him. Something was about to happen.

He didn't hesitate. Grabbing his communicator, he quickly activated it, his voice sharp and urgent. "Dorian! Do you read me? What the hell is going on out there? The Malum forces are letting up—something's wrong."

The static crackled in his ear, but there was no response. His heart pounded in his chest as he looked across the battlefield, his gaze drawn to the shifting silhouette that had begun to emerge from the edge of the smoke.

At first, it was just a shadow—massive, looming. But as it drew closer, the shape of the ship began to reveal itself in the fading light. A dark, imposing vessel, unlike anything Erik had ever seen. It hovered in the sky, its black hull shimmering with a faint, eerie glow. The ship was enormous, dwarfing anything House Decus had in its arsenal. Its sheer size was enough to instill a primal fear in Erik's gut. And from it, Erik could feel the unmistakable weight of death in the air.

The Malum soldiers, now completely still, seemed to be watching the ship with a sense of reverence—almost as though they were awaiting an order.

Erik's breath caught in his throat as he recognized the ship's design. It was a Malum warship, but this one was different. It was heavily armed, and the ominous hum of its engines sent a shiver down his spine. The ship wasn't just there for intimidation—it was there for something much worse.

He had heard rumors about such ships—ships capable of delivering devastating payloads. And now, standing in the midst of the battlefield, Erik realized the full scope of what was about to happen.

The Malum ship wasn't here to fight—they were here to end it.

With a sudden, terrifying realization, Erik understood. The Malum forces had intentionally let up on their attack, drawing the decimated forces of House Decus into a false sense of calm. The silence now was merely the prelude to something far more catastrophic.

His communicator buzzed again, this time with a voice he hadn't expected to hear.

"Erik… listen to me carefully."

It was King Decus.

"That ship… they're not here to fight, Erik. They're here to drop a bomb. We've received confirmation from scouts—it's a massive Cibus bomb, and it's headed straight for the heart of our kingdom. If we don't stop it, House Decus will fall in an instant."

Erik's heart sank. The reality of the situation hit him like a punch to the gut. A Cibus bomb. A weapon of unimaginable power that House Malum had clearly perfected. If they dropped it on House Decus, nothing would be left. The kingdom, the city, their people—everything would be annihilated in the blink of an eye.

"But how do we stop it?" Erik's voice was tight with panic. "We're barely holding on as it is. How do we stop that thing?"

"Don't panic," King Decus said, his voice calm but urgent. "The ship's targeting systems are based on energy signatures. We need to disrupt the energy output from the bomb's core. If we can hit its energy source, we can disable the bomb before it drops. But we need to act fast."

Erik's mind raced. "Where do I need to go?"

"The ship is still several kilometers away, but it's coming closer. You need to get to the nearest cliffside and find the uplink tower—there's a relay there. From there, we can send a signal to interfere with the ship's systems. It's our only shot."

Erik gritted his teeth. He had no time to waste.

"Understood. I'll be there." He clicked off the communicator and stood up, looking around once more at the battlefield. The Malum soldiers remained eerily still, their gaze fixed on the ship above.

The realization settled over Erik like a weight. The war had shifted in an instant. The Malum forces were no longer just after territory. They had come to erase them—House Decus, once a proud and powerful force, now on the verge of total obliteration.

But Erik couldn't let that happen. He wouldn't let it happen.

He turned and began to sprint toward the cliffside, weaving his way through the wreckage of the battlefield, dodging debris and the bodies of fallen soldiers—his own and the enemy's. The air felt heavier now, more suffocating as he pushed himself harder, adrenaline pumping through his veins.

The silhouette of the Malum ship loomed overhead, casting a shadow that stretched across the field like a dark omen. Erik could hear the faint hum of its engines growing louder, the sound of destruction coming closer with every passing second.

As he neared the cliffside, his thoughts raced. If they didn't reach that uplink tower in time, all hope would be lost. He had to move faster. He had to stop the bomb.

But deep down, Erik knew that this wasn't just a battle for House Decus anymore. It was a battle for survival itself. If they lost this fight, it wouldn't just be their world that would burn—it would be the end of everything.

And so, with every ounce of strength he had left, Erik sprinted toward the cliffside, the looming darkness of the Malum ship following him like a predator closing in on its prey.