Chapter 92: The Unseen Threat

Magnus's heart raced as the earth under him trembled fiercely, the force of the rift drawing him in like a magnet. The world around him seemed to tilt as his feet slipped across the slippery surface. He was in danger of being overpowered by the shockwaves of energy that surged through the rift's walls.

A voice hissed through the commotion, "You should have remained away," coming from the shadows. Magnus came to a halt, his gaze darting around, trying to find the source.

The dark silhouette of a man appeared there, amidst the swirling fog. The tall, commanding figure moved purposefully as it advanced, its bright eyes fixed on Magnus.

The apparition went on, its voice low and twisted, "I warned you." "This location and this world are now part of the rift. What is already in control cannot be fought.

Magnus's eyes narrowed. This was not just any random person, the remarks rang real. The rift's center was here. It was the cause of all the problems. And it was on its way to him.

Magnus responded, trying to keep his voice steady, "You are wrong." "I refuse to give up. Not right now. Not with so much on the line.

A wicked grin twisted on the figure's face. "You have lost already. Do you not see? You are in the exact spot where you will be broken.

Magnus was flung back, slamming into the sharp rocks at the chasm's edge as the energy of the fissure suddenly surged forward.

The ground shook beneath him as he strained to stand, and a huge crack appeared in front of him, exposing the writhing, chaotic energy of the rift's heart—an energy that appeared to be alive.

The world appeared to crumble around Magnus as he staggered forward, shaking the vertigo from his brain. The force of the fissure pulsed, intensifying with every second that went by. He needed to move quickly. The world was falling apart, and it was obvious that everything would be consumed if he did not put an end to it right away: Celeste, the people he loved, and reality itself.

The person who had spoken to him was standing at the brink of the abyss, observing him with icy laughter.

The figure's voice sliced through the atmosphere like a razor as it taunted, "You still think you can stop it, do not you?" "Fate cannot be fought. The divide cannot be fought. It is already braided throughout your entire being.

The artifact pulsed in Magnus's hand as he tightened his fists in response to the rift's energy. "I do not have to battle fate. I am going to ruin it.

As the figure took a step closer, its form briefly blurred before solidifying again, and a menacing smirk appeared on its face.

It muttered, "You will regret it," and before Magnus could respond, the figure held up a hand, causing the ground under him to split and send him plummeting toward the abyss below.

Magnus's stomach lurched in the emptiness as his reality shook fiercely as he dropped. His palm found something solid as he reached out, just seconds from the abyss. When he realized he had grasped something living, his breath caught.

Magnus wrapped his fingers around the tendrils that twisted from the center of the fissure. It was a live, breathing creature now, its whole essence clinging to him, feeding into his senses, no longer only the emptiness into which he had sunk.

Magnus briefly believed he may be drawn into the breach itself as the tentacles became tighter. Then, with a grunt of effort, he tightened his grip, pulling himself up with all of his remaining strength.

A low hum reverberated through the air as the energy surrounding him buzzed, its ferocity nearly suffocating. Despite his instincts telling him to relax, Magnus was unable to do so. At the moment when everything hinged on him, he could not allow the rift to prevail.

He gave it one last desperate yank and dragged himself onto the firm earth. His heart continued to race as he gulped for air. However, he became aware that it was different from the area he had known as soon as his feet contacted the earth.

It all began here, at the center of the rift, and it would all come to an end here.

The throbbing light fluttered like a heartbeat in the middle of the fissure, and he turned toward it. the origin of this mayhem.

But before he could advance, the ground shook once more, and the figure reappeared, this time changed. It was no longer merely a shadow. Its eyes glowed with a fierce, blazing energy, and it was something more real, something horrible.

With each step, the figure's shape changed, its might fanning outward like a relentless storm. Magnus was unable to give up. It was this. The last stand.

The figure growled, "You still think you can stop this?" Its voice was full of disdain, as though Magnus's existence were merely a bother.

Magnus responded, "I am not preventing anything," as he gripped the relic more tightly. "I am going to finish it."

Magnus was knocked to the ground as a wave of energy erupted out from the figure as the ground shook fiercely. As the force poured through the rift, threatening to break apart everything in its path, his vision became blurry.

Magnus, however, saw it—a flickering opening in the distance—through the fog of suffering. A means of destroying the fissure, of permanently halting the beast.

Ignoring the blood streaming down his cheeks, he growled and pushed himself to his feet. He needed to make it. He needed to get to that gap.

The beast surged forward, its enormous body obstructing Magnus's path as he ran into the opening. As it reached for him, its claws shining in the dim light of the fissure, the light in its eyes flared with wrath.

Magnus could feel the energy of the rift growing within him, tugging at every fiber of his body. The creature's strong body cast a shadow over him, blocking his path even though he was so close.

With a voice like thunder, it snarled, "You are too late." "This is your last day."

Magnus was too busy to argue. He pushed forward with all of his remaining might, the artifact glimmering brighter in his grasp, its power growing with every stride. It was a dying rift. It must have been. The beast was losing its hold on the world.

Magnus let out one last, furious scream and rushed forward, his fist out to strike.

As Magnus's fingertips touched the aperture, the creature's claws clamped around his wrist. As Magnus's will and the rift's unwavering might clashed, time slowed.