Collapse of Eldros

Collapse of Eldros
The crack in the stone split like lightning, jagged lines tearing across the floor. The hand that emerged was not flesh, it was pale as bone, jointed wrong, with claws that scraped against the broken tiles. A wet hiss rolled up from the darkness, and the ground shuddered under it.
Lila’s pulse raced so violently she thought it might burst from her throat. Keal’s grip tightened around her waist, dragging her back from the widening rift.
“Move,” he growled.
The air had turned heavy, pressing on her chest with every breath. From deep below came a second sound, not just the heartbeat now, but a chorus, low and discordant, like something vast and ancient was waking.
Myra was on her knees near the column, staff clutched in trembling fingers. Her eyes were fixed on the hand breaking through the floor. Her lips moved silently — words Lila couldn’t hear, but the look on her face was something between horror and resignation.
Another clawed hand burst through, and the stone between them crumbled away into the void below.
Screams echoed from the streets outside. The city’s night-song,the faint ringing of chimes, the rumble of distant carts had been replaced by chaos. Through the shattered arch of the hall, Lila saw light flare in the distance, not firelight, but a tearing, violet glow that split the sky like a wound.
“Void storm,” Keal spat. “They’re opening already.”
“They?” Lila managed, stumbling as he pulled her toward the exit.
Keal didn’t answer.
A column to their left gave way with a deep groan. It fell, smashing through what remained of the council table. Dust and shards billowed upward, blinding her for a moment. By the time it cleared, the thing below had pushed itself higher — a hunched shape, still half-hidden in the darkness, but its head tilted unnaturally, almost listening.
It wasn’t looking for her. It was feeling her.
The Mark on her neck burned hotter.
Keal yanked her forward, weaving through debris and broken beams. Every step was a fight; the ground shifted and lurched beneath them. She tripped more than once, her legs clumsy, her body still shaken from Myra’s spell.
They had nearly reached the outer corridor when a shockwave ripped through the hall. It threw them both against the wall.
Lila’s ears rang. The walls around them blurred, as if the air itself had cracked. Through one of those cracks, she saw another place entirely. A field of black grass under a red sky. Then it blinked out, replaced again by the dust and ruin of Eldros.
The magic was failing.
Keal pushed off the wall, steadying her. His voice was urgent but low. “We reach the southern pass before the next break. Once the void takes the city, there’s no path left.”
A shadow fell across them. Myra stood in their way again, her white hair tangled, her staff dragging slightly as if it had grown heavier.
“You can’t outrun it,” she said, breathless. “Not now. The seals have already—”
The ground between them split with a deafening crack, cutting her words short. The fracture opened wide enough to swallow a chunk of the corridor. Lila’s stomach lurched as she watched it fall away into nothing.
Through the gap, far below, was the shifting glow of the void.
“Go!” Keal barked, seizing her wrist. They leapt the gap, landing hard on the other side. Myra’s figure was swallowed by the collapsing stone, and for a heartbeat Lila thought she’d fallen. But when she glanced back, the Elder was still there, smaller now in the distance, framed by violet light.
They tore through the streets. People ran in all directions, some toward the gates, others toward their homes, as if walls could shield them from the storm. The air had turned icy, the wind pulling at their clothes in jerks, like unseen hands.
Buildings vanished mid-collapse, their stones simply dissolving into nothing. Lila saw a man reach for his child across a gap in the street then the ground between them folded in on itself, and the man was gone. The child’s scream was lost in the roar of the storm.
“Don’t look,” Keal said, his voice tight. But she did. She couldn’t help it.
Somewhere to their right, the great towers of Eldros bent at impossible angles, snapping like reeds. The streets she had once walked in chains were being swallowed whole.
They reached the south gate or what was left of it. The great bronze doors were warped inward, one hanging from its hinges. A guard lay slumped against the wall, eyes wide but empty.
Keal pushed the broken door aside with a grunt. “Through.”
Lila stumbled into the open ground beyond. The wind was worse here, the pull of the void storm almost lifting her from her feet. In the distance, the southern pass was little more than a dark slash between the hills, their way out.
But the path wasn’t clear.
A section of the street ahead buckled and split. From the fissure, something like a black vine shot upward, curling and twisting. It didn’t move like a plant, it moved like it was searching. The tendrils brushed against a fleeing man, and he froze in place, eyes rolling white before the vine dragged him into the crack below.
Keal swore under his breath. He scanned the collapsing ground, then jerked his head toward the side. “We take the ridge.”
They scrambled up a slope of loose stone, the ground sliding under them. Every muscle in Lila’s body screamed, but the thought of stopping was worse.
Halfway up, another tremor hit, stronger than the rest. She fell to her knees, gripping the rock until her fingers ached. Keal hauled her up again.
Then the air split with a deafening roar.
She looked back.
Through the gap where the city had been, a shape was rising. Not just a creature, a whole mass of darkness, like the sky itself had thickened and was spilling into the world. Its edges wavered, melting into clawed limbs, too many to count. And in its center, where a face should be, was nothing but a burning, silver hollow.
It was looking at her.
The Mark flared, pain spearing down her spine. Her knees buckled. Keal caught her, but his gaze was fixed on the thing, his jaw set in grim recognition.
“That’s what they sealed,” he said, almost to himself.
A voice — not a sound, but a pressure in her mind spoke her name. Lila.
The ridge beneath them began to crumble. Keal pulled her toward the pass. The wind howled louder, tearing at her hair, her clothes.
They were almost there when a figure stepped from the shadows ahead.
Myra.
Her staff was gone. Her eyes were rimmed red, but her stance was steady. “You can’t run from it,” she said. “But you can stop it. You still have a choice.”
Keal bared his teeth. “Get out of the way.”
The ground shook violently. From behind them came the sound of stone shattering, the creature had reached the gate.
Myra’s voice rose over the storm. “If you go through that pass, the cradle will open before nightfall. If you stay, I can end it here.”
The wind surged, nearly knocking Lila from her feet. Keal pulled her close, shielding her from the blast of dust and debris.
The choice burned in her mind — run for the pass and risk the thing breaking free, or trust Myra after everything she’d done.
The creature’s shadow spilled over the ridge.
And then the ground beneath them gave way.
They fell.