Chapter 9: Hunt on Khar'Zul

Khar'Zul Chasm — Unknown DepthsThe suffocating heat began to ease as Jonas and Arthur descended deeper into the pitch-black heart of the chasm. They slid carefully down the jagged rock face, suspended in the void, their ropes taut and occasionally scraping against the wall's sharp edges.

The deeper they went, the thicker the darkness became—almost tangible. The narrow beam of their lamps revealed layers of reddish rock, uneven and rough, like mineral flesh scarred by time.

Suddenly, Jonas's light fell on something strange far below.— "Arthur… look at that…"Arthur slowly turned his head toward where his father was pointing: a large opening carved into the rock wall, perfectly circular, dark and gaping like the mouth of a mythical creature. It extended into a long subterranean tunnel, wide and unnaturally uniform. Clearly artificial.

— "Something dug that…" Jonas murmured cautiously.— "Do you think it was… animals?"Jonas frowned, visibly concerned.— "I'd rather not imagine what kind of creature can carve a tunnel that precise. But if we stay here, we're dead."

Arthur swallowed hard, his anxious gaze fixed on the pitch-black tunnel.— "What do we do, then?"Jonas hesitated, looked up, then back down, toward the depths where the tunnel disappeared into the shadows.— "We have no choice. Let's go a bit further down. See if it leads somewhere. But stay alert."

Arthur felt his heart racing as they continued their descent, moving cautiously, guided only by the dim glow of their lights.

Khar'Zul Surface — Military Deployment ZoneIn the scorching sky of the desert planet, a series of black assault ships descended with cold precision, flanked by a larger, far more imposing vessel: the Abjurés' flagship. Its sleek, obsidian hull shimmered with pulsing red lines, as if it carried death itself within.

The sand erupted in miniature storms as they landed, swirling violently around the sinister figures that disembarked. The Abjurés, silent and motionless, emerged slowly down a hydraulic ramp, the dull thud of their metal boots echoing ominously. Each wore long black coats adorned with dark patterns, their faces hidden behind opaque, intimidating masks.

Behind them, the ranks of Dissonant soldiers moved into perfect formation, ready for action.A Dissonant officer, his black helmet gleaming, stepped forward to address the Abjurés.— "Masters, your orders?"

Nemeor, the chief Abjuré, slowly raised a gloved hand, palm facing outward, as if trying to feel the scorching air around them. He closed his eyes behind the mask. His voice, calm and icy, resonated slowly:— "The Élan vibrates here. Very close."

The other Abjurés nodded silently, also sensing the presence—still clumsy, but powerful and fresh.— "He is still inexperienced," Nemeor continued. "And above all… afraid."

He slowly pointed toward a distant rock fissure.— "Over there. I feel him more clearly."

The officer turned immediately to his troops.— "Regiment, form up! Head for the fissure!"

The soldiers moved out, a disciplined wall of black, threatening silhouettes advancing slowly over the burning sand.

The Abjurés exchanged a few silent glances, then Nemeor issued one final chilling command:— "Capture him alive. But kill anyone who might try to help him."

They advanced together—calm, methodical, certain of their imminent victory.

Arthur and Jonas had just reached an unstable rocky platform at the mouth of the underground tunnel.Jonas quickly checked their gear, his dark expression betraying growing concern.— "I don't like this, Arthur. Tunnels like this… usually mean territorial beasts. Dangerous ones. Big ones."

— "But we can't stay out here," Arthur objected, anxiety rising as he peered into the darkness.

Jonas let out a long sigh and nodded slowly.— "You're right. But stay close. Stay careful."

They entered the tunnel cautiously. The ground beneath their feet was dusty, but stable enough for steady progress. Their lamps revealed smooth tunnel walls, lined with rhythmic grooves—marks left by some unknown creature, terrifying in size.

A distant rumble vibrated faintly through the rock around them. Jonas stopped dead.— "What was that?" Arthur whispered, frozen with fear.— "They're coming," Jonas muttered through clenched teeth. "They've sensed you."

Arthur looked panicked.— "But how… how can they track me like this?"

Jonas shot him a heavy look—one filled with regret.— "The Élan connects you to the world, Arthur. But it also makes you vulnerable. To them, you shine like a beacon in the night."

He placed a reassuring hand on his son's shoulder, trying to mask his own anxiety.— "But as long as I'm with you, I won't let them take you."

Arthur opened his mouth to reply, but Jonas had already started moving again, eyes forward, determined to protect his son no matter the cost.

Arthur finally stepped onto a flat surface after a grueling, nerve-wracking descent.They were now at the bottom of the chasm, where the air was heavy, stagnant, almost suffocating. The beams of their lamps revealed a broad, dusty expanse, punctuated by wide, gaping, perfectly round openings—identical to those they had seen above.

Jonas crouched immediately, inspecting the ground with a wary eye. Arthur watched the tunnels with growing dread.— "Father… these are the exact same tunnels…" he whispered, tension rising.

Jonas nodded tightly.— "That's what worries me the most…"

He suddenly froze, lifting his head. His face tensed, his eyes locked onto the chasm's upper edge in horror. A distinct, metallic sound echoed through the depths—metal cables, secured harnesses, carabiners clipping into stone. The cold, threatening noise of a perfectly coordinated descent.— "They're already here…" Jonas muttered under his breath. "Shit."

Arthur felt a cold shiver run down his spine. Jonas gripped his shoulder firmly.— "Arthur, listen carefully. From now on, we don't stop. No matter what we find in there—we keep moving. Got it?"

Arthur nodded, heart pounding, fully aware their lives now depended on speed.

They plunged into the nearest tunnel at full speed, abandoning the relative safety of the chasm.

The first Dissonant soldiers, flawlessly trained, reached the bottom moments later, kicking up red dust with each landing.Their commander raised his hand, signaling them to form a line in front of the various tunnel openings. The troops obeyed immediately—with precision and discipline.

Barely a minute later, the Abjurés descended in turn, landing silently, their black cloaks falling gently over their shoulders like wings of shadow.

Nemeor, their leader, stepped forward from the group and slowly extended his hand. He closed his eyes behind his opaque mask, and a subtle vibration rippled through the air: the Élan—dark, cold, manipulative—slithered around him and drew his attention to one of the tunnels.

— "They went that way," he declared in a glacial voice.

Then, in a perfectly synchronized movement, the eight Abjurés slowly drew their Élan blades. Nemeor's blade burst forth in a deep, blood-red hue, while the others lit up in brighter, orange tones—equally threatening.

The glow of the blades bathed the tunnels in a chilling light, revealing masked faces devoid of emotion—relentless, merciless.

— "Advance. Capture the bearer of the Awakening. Eliminate the rest."

Arthur and Jonas were running full-speed, breathless. Their lamps barely illuminated the circular walls of the tunnel, their ragged breathing echoing off the smooth stone. The ground trembled faintly beneath their desperate footsteps.

Behind them, the ominous echo of heavy boots was closing in fast, accompanied by an eerie, growing glow.

— "They're too close!" Arthur cried, fear heavy in his voice.

— "Don't look back!" Jonas snapped, his voice firm despite the rising panic. "We have to outrun them!"

But despite their efforts, the Abjurés were closing in, step by step. Shadows twisted along the curved walls of the tunnel, their silhouettes cast by the glow of red and orange Élan blades.

Suddenly, a metallic howl rang out through the depths of the tunnels—a sound like the cry of some massive creature—halting Arthur in his tracks.

— "What was that?!" he shouted, panicked.

Jonas stopped too, staring into the darkness ahead, a new kind of fear in his eyes.

— "Something lives down here, Arthur. Something huge. But we can't turn back. Not now."

Behind them, another sound followed—a voice, cold and distorted by the masks of the Abjurés, echoing through the tunnel:

— "Surrender now, and your death will be swift!"

Jonas clenched his jaw, eyes burning with resolve. He knew they had no choice now but to keep running—straight into the unknown.

— "Hold on, Arthur. We can't afford to hesitate anymore."