Continuation....
MORINJO
Gordon yanks me clean off the ground by my right arm.
Before I can react, his upper right hand clamps around my throat like a hydraulic vice. His lower arms drive into my ribs—CRUNCH—the pain explodes like a landmine inside my chest. Then—he lifts me high.
My feet dangle and lungs scream. The pressure around my throat is crushing, and pain shoots through my ribcage. I can't breathe. I can't think. My mask darkens as consciousness starts to slip.
"Now," he snarls, lips curling into a cruel grin, "I tear out your spine."
My hands flail uselessly at his wrists. My strength is leaking out fast—along with blood. My fingers slip.
Then, a voice breaks through the haze.
"Uh, Mr. Johnson? I'm being beamed up!"
Even choking on my own breath, I wheeze out, "Did you... hear that?"
"I did," Path Finder replies inside my head, calm as ever. "But help's not coming. He's strong, Morinjo… stubborn too."
"You're right," I croak. "But we've beaten worse."
Suddenly—
"GET OVER HERE, FOUR ARMS!!" Trivium's voice cracks like a cannon across the battlefield.
BOOOM!! Thunder erupts. Lightning screams across the sky.
Then—CHKKKK!—Trivium's glowing axe slices into Gordon's right flank. Blood sprays. The blade sticks deep into meat and bone.
"RAHHHHH!!" Gordon roars, and with terrifying speed, his lower right arm lashes out—CRACK!— backhanding Trivium hurtling through the air like a bag of broken bones.
Gordon flings me down like a broken toy.
The back of my head bounces off stone. My mask splits. Air floods in. Every breath burns like fire.
"He's strong," Path Finder mutters.
I spit blood, coughing. "We've bled for worse."
Gordon stalks toward Trivium's crater—but Trivium rises, defiant.
Lightning crackles along Trivium's arms. He thrusts both hands forward—
BOOOOOOM!!—a searing torrent of raw voltage slams into Gordon, driving him back, but Gordon grits teeth and walks through it.
"We've gotta help him," I mutter, dragging myself up.
"No," Path Finder says. "Help the new kid—Moth."
The storm rages. Trivium screams. The ground vibrates under the force of his fury.
"He's mine!" Trivium shouts, doubling down. "Go rescue the Sorcerer!"
Then—something terrifying happens.
Gordon begins to glow. Orange light crawls beneath his skin, veins of energy snaking toward his face.
ZRRRMMM!
Four beams of plasma shoot from his eyes, slamming into Trivium's chest like warheads.
BOOM!!!
Trivium flies backward, armor shredded and smoldering.
My mask reseals, nanotech locking in. Blood runs down my chin.
I sprint. Gordon turns—
THOOM!—his fist crashes into my chest, snapping ribs.
I hit the ground, convulsing. The taste of copper floods my mouth.
"He can shoot lasers now," Path Finder says.
"Still not my problem," I growl.
I leap again, twisting mid-air. My heel hits the dirt—and the earth explodes upward. Spikes of rock stab toward Gordon as fire ignites across my arms.
I move—strike—bend—flow.
Stone, flame, speed. No wasted motion.
Another laser hits my side. I scream and tumble, sliding through gravel, legs carving deep into the dirt.
"You failed to protect your Amulet user," Gordon taunts, stalking forward. "Why do you keep fighting me?"
I wipe the blood off my face and grin.
"Because you look like a Ninja Turtle's tumor."
We charge.
He throws a storm of punches—four fists hammering like pistons. I block high, absorb the next hit to my ribs, then duck. He adapts, slamming his fists into my back again and again.
My vision blurs. My breath rattles.
Then—I roar, gather my strength into my right fist, and unleash a brutal uppercut.
CRACK!
Gordon stumbles back, wiping blood from his mouth.
"Impressive," he mutters.
Then he leaps and smashes all four fists down on me.
I slam into the ground like a meteor. Craters ripple beneath my body. My spine screams.
Behind me, Trivium's voice rings out, weak but firm. "Finder! I'm getting Shang!"
Without looking, I mutter, "Get Moth too."
Lightning flashes—and he's gone.
I rise slowly, battered but standing.
Across the field, Gordon cracks his neck.
I stare him down, fists trembling.
"As for you, Four Arms… you're dead."
I feel it before I even move—the air shifts, the ground beneath my feet shudders, and heat pulses against my skin. A surge rises in my chest like a tidal wave breaking loose. The wind roars around me, bending to my will. Rocks tear free from the earth and orbit me like moons. Streams of water twist upward, defying gravity. Flames ignite from nothing, wrapping around me in a blinding ring of fire.
I don't hesitate. I let go.
Power explodes from within.
My eyes and armor's design blaze with light, and I rise—slow, steady—off the ground. The air howls louder, forming a vortex. Fire lashes outward in a wide arc, slicing through the chaos like a living blade. The elements spin around me faster and faster, until I become the center of a storm that shakes the sky itself.
Gordon's eyes widen. His smirk fades.
This ends now.
JOHN
I cling to the underbelly of the alien spaceship, fingertips crackling with static from the gloves built into my suit. The current holds me in place, barely. The ship rumbles beneath me, accelerating. I glance down—big mistake.
Earth is gone.
Just... gone.
The blue curve of the planet vanishes below, swallowed by black. My breath catches inside my mask, shallow and fast, like I'm trying to breathe through a straw. My chest heaves. I feel lightheaded.
"Okay," I mutter, voice shaky. "Maybe ditching math class wasn't the brightest idea."
My arms tremble as I pull myself higher along the ship's surface. My fingers spark, grip slipping for a second before I catch myself again. Space is cold, and I'm sweating like I ran a marathon.
"First time in space, huh?" a calm, deep voice says.
I freeze.
"Uh—who's talking? Who are you?" I ask, eyes darting. My voice cracks.
"Identification is not necessary," the voice replies. It's smooth, but there's something heavy behind it. "Just trust me. Let go."
"Let go? Yeah, sure. While I'm at it, I'll also let go of living."
"I'll catch you."
"That's the kind of thing villains say before they don't catch you."
Silence.
Then he says, "You're running out of air, kid."
I blink. My vision's starting to blur. The heads-up display inside my mask flickers. A soft alarm pings in the corner of my helmet.
"But the mission," I whisper, struggling to focus, "we still gotta save the wizard… and the Amulet."
My fingers slip a little. The sparks flicker.
"You won't save anyone if you're dead," the voice says, lower now, closer. "You've done enough."
I take off my mask.
The cold bites instantly. My lungs scream for oxygen.
"Absolutely," I gasp—just one word, before all the air in my chest runs out. My fingers go numb. My vision dims.
I slip.
And fall.
No scream. No sound. Just the endless silence of space.
Darkness swallows me.
And in that last moment, I'm not scared of dying. I'm scared of never being remembered.
Of dying out here, alone... with no one even knowing I was here.
The End...