Chapter Eighty-Seven:

  “No More Illusions”

  The sewer narrowed even more. Shoulders scraped along the sides before finally, the narrow passage sloped upward, the damp stone beneath them slick but stable as the group ascended. One by one, they emerged, stepping into a strange, dimly lit room. The air was stale, carrying the faint, musty trace of things long abandoned, A scent clinging to the walls like a memory, foggy but refusing to fade.

  It was silent.

  Three beds—if you could call them that—were arranged on the floor, little more than threadbare mattresses, warped and torn from years of use and neglect. Scattered around them lay the bodies. Wooden and cloth dolls, stitched from crude materials, but none had heads.

  Ankit took a slow step forward, his eyes darting across the dismembered toys. "Ah, guys? Where are all their heads?"

  Raya shivered. "I agree with you on this one. This is too creepy."

  Ani sniffed the air, his ears twitching as he crept toward the bed set apart from the others, the one sitting alone on the opposite side of the room. He let out a soft whine, nosing at the old, tattered sheets.

  Raya followed him, kneeling beside the bed. Among the ruined dolls, her fingers brushed against one, a stuffed cloth figure, its stitching frayed, its neck torn open, a hollow reminder of its missing head. She picked it up, turning it in her hands before placing it back where she found it.

  Asha frowned. "What was that about?"

  Raya hesitated, glancing at Ani, who was still staring at the bed, tail low, ears pinned back. "Nothing... just... the one whose bed this is... was... he helped me." Her voice was quiet, almost reverent. "He helped us." She gave Ani a rub behind the ears.

  Leo exhaled, glancing around the room. "This must have been where Hex’s ‘brothers’ slept. Come on, let’s get out of here. This place defiantly gives me the heebee jeebees"

  Ankit was already pulling up the map, the translucent UI projection hovering in the air before them. His eyes locked onto the waypoint glowing in the center of the palace. "Sterling’s throne room. Right where you would expect."

  Emily drew her bow. "Get ready. Anything you haven’t taken care of, do it now. There’s no turning back after this point."

  Ankit, "Should I save my game?"

  The look Emily gave him could melt stone. He only responded with his usual, 'what?' smile.

  For a long moment, no one else spoke. They just exchanged looks, each of them feeling the weight of the moment, the silence pressing in. Lucinda, Ankit, Leo, Asha, Raya, and Ani.

  They were all ready.

  They had to be.

  The stone wall groaned, grinding against the hard floor as a hidden passage slowly opened into the next room. A wave of foul air rushed to meet them, thick with the cloying stench of rotting food, nearly choking them as it settled in. What should have been a kitchen, warm, bustling, full of life, was instead a place long since surrendered to ruin.

  The countertops were coated in mold and blackened filth, pots left to rust where they had fallen. Maggots wriggled over rotting hunks of meat, barely resembling food as they decomposed. Their foul stench mixing with the sour rot of vegetables liquefying where they lay. The air churned with the incessant buzz of flies, their tiny bodies swarming in black clouds around the remains of something that may have once been dinner.

  Ankit, his nose wrinkling, glanced at what might have once been a roast, now unrecognizable beneath the writhing mass of larvae.

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  "Nope." He doubled over. BLAH!

  His emberfruit tart hit the floor, adding to the already unbearable scene.

  Raya actually laughed, covering her mouth. "Serves you right for eating that in the sewers."

  Lucinda, unfazed by the filth, turned slowly in place. "I can feel them. The souls that once lived in this place."

  The others stilled.

  She moved closer to them, her voice dropping lower. "They're all around us. Watching us. Listening to us."

  Ankit groaned, wiping his mouth. "Great. See? Ghosts. I’m going back to the sewers. I’ll take the rats, thank you."

  Leo shook his head, letting out a light chuckle. He put his arm around Ankit's shoulders "Enough jokes. I'll protect you, let's go."

  The group pressed on, the feel of unseen eyes crawling over their backs.

  The halls stretched ahead, cold and abandoned, a place long forsaken. Their footsteps echoed sharply, swallowed by the thick silence that pressed in around them.

  As they passed an open doorway, Raya stopped, her breath catching in her throat. She knew this room.

  She stepped inside.

  It had been beautiful once. A grand bath, fit for royalty, vast and gleaming with polished stone. The enchantment was gone, and the illusion had shattered, leaving behind only the remnants of its former grandeur. What had once seemed like a luxurious pool of steaming, perfumed water now resembled something far darker, an unspeakable pit, tainted and corrupted

  The water was black, thick with filth, its surface broken only by the bloated corpses floating beneath it. The handmaidens she had seen before, smiling, graceful, pouring scented water from golden pitchers, remained. But they were not living.

  Mummified from time, their skin was pulled tight over bone, their empty eye sockets staring at nothing. Even now, they moved, pouring and repouring from pitchers that held nothing. Silent. Mindless. Trapped in a routine that had long outlived them.

  Raya’s stomach churned, her body locking in place, frozen in horror.

  She had bathed in that water.

  A violent shudder ripped through her, her body recoiling as if touched by a ghost. She crouched down, arms wrapping around her knees, her breath came in shallow, ragged gasps.

  No. No, no, no.

  No matter what Hex had said about knowing only torture and pain, this… this was inexcusable.

  Lucinda, Asha, and Emily closed in around her, their presence grounding her even as her mind spiraled. Leo and Ankit stood above them, watching the mummified handmaidens continue their eternal, empty task. Ani ever vigilant by their side.

  Emily’s voice was gentle but firm. "This game is designed to break you. Don't let it. It isn't real. Remember that."

  Raya squeezed her eyes shut. Her breath hitched. Then, slowly, the words settled.

  "This… isn't real." Her voice was barely a whisper.

  Then again, stronger. "This isn't real."

  One more time, steady now. "This isn't real."

  Asha gave her a sharp nod. "That’s right! Now come on, let’s end this game... once and for all."

  Ani pressed against Raya’s side, his warmth grounding her in the chaos.

  Raya exhaled, steadying herself. She nodded once, a quiet affirmation. "Okay."

  She rose to her feet.

  They moved forward together.

  The hallway stretched before them, vast and foreboding, lined with towering pillars and walls carved with ornate designs. A biting chill ran through the corridor, carrying a silence that felt deadly. Light sputtered from sconces along the walls, sending contorted shadows that seemed to stretch with every step.

  This was it. The moment they had been waiting for, or dreading.

  Lucinda’s fingers squeezed around her staff, pressing into the worn grooves carved by time and use, the wood warm despite the chill in the air. "Protection."

  A soft pulse of silver light swept over them, washing through their bodies, one final time, before fading into its invisible barrier. Ankit reached into his inventory, pulling out a shimmering blue vial. Without a word, he tossed it to her.

  She caught it, nodding in understanding, then uncorked the vial and tipped it back. The cool liquid slid down her throat, a sharp burst of energy radiating through her body as her MP surged back to full strength.

  Emily pulled an arrow from her side quiver, nocking it with practiced ease. The tip pulsed with a soft glow, the elven enchantment thrumming with power. Ankit drew his dual daggers, twirling them once before settling into a stance, the steel catching the sconces dim light. Asha pulled out a purple potion, its liquid sizzling, ready to shatter free. Ani’s fur flared in spectral blue, a low growl rumbling from his chest.

  Leo turned his ring one final time, feeling the weight of the choice. This time, he knew. "For luck. For you... whoever you were." His fists blazed to life, engulfed in his bright blue fire.

  No more words. No more preparing.

  Game on.

  They surged forward, ready to throw the doors open themselves.

  But before they could touch them, the doors burst open on their own.

  Fast. Forceful.

  A wave of pure evil rushed out, carrying with it the sound of deep, cruel laughter. It echoed through the massive hall, breaking into their ears, invading under their skin, filling the space with something far more oppressive than anything they ever imagined.

  The laughter swelled, rich with amusement, laced with malice.

  Then.

  "Welcome to my home... Players."

  Lord Sterling's voice sliced through the air, smooth, knowing, dripping with satisfaction.

  The final battle was about to begin.

  Are you ready for the end?