222 THE FALL OF MYRONE
Nicaesa faltered…his real body somewhere deep in the fortress trembling from the backlash. But he refused to fall. The projection mended itself midair, molten light sealing the wound.
He gritted his teeth, then split the great hammer into two—wielding one in each hand. Twin golden arcs swept through the darkness as he struck again and again, matching the two Shadows blow for blow.
But Damen could feel it…Nicaesa's energy was burning away. His projection flickered, dimming at the edges.
Then Nicaesa's voice rang across the comms, raw and commanding:
"Damen! Go! Stick to the plan! Do not come back for revenge!"
Damen froze, his throat tightening. "No…"
The old commander smiled faintly through the flickering projection. "You've done enough, my son."
Tears burned Damen's eyes as he clenched his fists.
He knew what Nicaesa intended—to burn his life, his very soul, to hold back the alien gods long enough for his people to escape.
"Understood," Damen whispered hoarsely. "I'll make it count."
Damen dived back into the fortress as the evacuation alarms wailed. Soldiers and refugees surged toward the shimmering space rift, but the corridors were jammed, chaos spilling through every level.
There were simply too many.
Far too many.
"Damn it," Damen growled. "There aren't enough transports for all of them."
He stood amid the panic, fists clenched, watching the endless wave of terrified faces. For the first time in years, he wanted to pray…yet he knew no gods would answer him.
Then a familiar voice echoed through the smoke.
"Nephew, do you need our help?"
Damen spun around. "Sienna? What—what are you doing here?"
Sienna stepped from the shadows, her eyes sharp, calm even amid the chaos. "I came to save people, of course."
He frowned. "Save them? The fortress is collapsing. Even if we had a dozen rifts, we couldn't get this many out!"
Another voice cut through the din—smooth, regal, and unmistakable.
"Have you forgotten about me, boy?"
Damen turned.
A luminous figure floated down the hall—it was Queen Erythos, her silver robes rippling like water, her presence radiating quiet power.
He understood instantly.
It was Erythos's unique ability—the Sanctum of Nurture.
She could fold living beings into a dimensional space, preserving and sustaining them. She had once saved a hundred thousand souls from the slums of Melrose before the city fell.
Now, she had come for Fortress Myrone.
Damen exhaled in relief. "Then it's possible. Sienna, Erythos….save as many as you can. I'll hold the line for you."
Erythos nodded.
Her eyes glowed faintly as she rose into the air, her long hair flowing like liquid shadow. From her back, tentacles of shimmering light unfurled, stretching across the hall.
The panicked soldiers screamed as the tentacles reached for them.
"What—what is that?! A monster?!"
Damen raised his voice above the uproar. "She's not a monster! She's here to save you! Her power will take you to safety….trust her!"
The soldiers hesitated…but they trusted him.
One by one, they allowed the tentacles to touch them. In moments, their bodies dissolved into motes of light, vanishing into Erythos's hidden realm.
Dozens… then hundreds…
The fortress floor glowed beneath her as wave after wave of soldiers disappeared into the Queen's sanctuary.
And still, Damen stood guard by the collapsing gate—his armor blazing, his eyes fixed on the shadows outside…buying them every second he could.
The last shimmer of the fortress's force field shattered like glass, its fragments of light scattering into the smoky night.
"The force field is about to collapse, we have to leave now," Sienna said urgently. "If we stay, we'll be buried here."
Damen hesitated.
Screams still echoed through the collapsing corridors—voices of people trapped far beyond reach.
Sienna was right.
If they left now, they could at least save those already secured within Erythos's dimensional space. If they hesitated any longer, everyone would die here.
"Go," Damen said, his voice hard despite the tremor beneath it. "Take Erythos and leave. I'll keep the path clear."
Sienna nodded, her expression solemn.
"Damen," she said quietly, "I know this isn't the time—but remember this. I am not your enemy. My methods may not sit well with you now, but one day you'll understand." She met his gaze. "I'm doing this for you."
For a moment, Damen had no words.
He had always been wary of Sienna and her motives. Yet now, standing amid ruin and dying echoes, she sounded sincere.
He thought of his own choices—of the lines he had crossed, the lives he had weighed and discarded. He was no saint. No more righteous than she was.
At least Sienna's end goal was noble.
She had helped many.
She had fought to build Liberty City that valued equality, even if her hands were stained along the way.
"…You're right," Damen said at last. "We don't have to be enemies."
Sienna inclined her head once, then turned and boarded the vehicle with Erythos.Damen stood silently as the engine rumbled to life and the transport rolled toward the evacuation route.
Then, without looking back, he turned toward the fortress—toward the fire, the screams, and the path he alone would walk.
-----
Damen didn't go to the walls…to the battle… not yet.
He sprinted through the crumbling halls, heading straight for the Force Field Chamber—the heart of Fortress Myrone.
The room was a cathedral of machinery, alive with flickering sparks and broken conduits. In the center stood the great generator—once the fortress's shield against the greatest forces of annihilation.
Now, it was a dying beast, its energy sputtering as the Shadows of Anubis tore through the defenses above.
Damen scanned the machine.
His eyes lit with readings.There they were…. glowing within the fractured housing: Cores of Genesis.
It was the source of the fortress's barrier and the heart of its protection.
Without them, the generator would never work again. The fortress would be dead forever.
But Damen no longer cared about the future of this fortress.
He cared about surviving the present… and killing gods.
He extended his hands, summoning the assimilation field. Energy flared as he drew the Cores into himself, one after another.
"Core of Genesis—assimilating."
"Core of Mind— assimilating."
There were more than a hundred of them.
Each one resisted violently as if the fortress itself refused to give them up. Damen gritted his teeth as lightning crawled across his armor.
"Damn it…faster!" he shouted, forcing his systems to absorb more.
The floor cracked beneath him.
The entire room quaked, the generator collapsing through the floor. Damen fell with it, slamming into the level below, surrounded by wreckage and screaming metal.
He barely noticed the pain.
His sensors still tracked the glowing signatures of the remaining cores. He crawled through the debris, continuing the assimilation even as the fortress crumbled around him.
-----
Outside, the battle raged on.
Lord Nicaesa's golden Anima Projection still towered against the twin Shadows of Anubis, but its light was dimming. His hammer, once radiant with divine energy, was cracked and flickering.
The Shadows struck in unison.
"Surrender, Nicaesa…."
Their twin scythes collided with his weapon….shattering it into molten shards.
The golden giant staggered, then fell to one knee.
"Never…", the golden Anima screamed defiantly.