In a foreboding, dark place, a palace lay hidden, forgotten, and shrouded in mystery. Within its walls resided a being of unfathomable strength, one that had been disturbed, forced to reveal itself.
A figure cloaked in deep shadows spoke, its voice low and menacing. Only its glowing green eyes and a toothy grin were visible in the darkness. "They have made a move," it murmured. "She can no longer keep to herself, it seems."
The entity smiled wickedly, razor-sharp teeth glinting. "I will watch for now. My early interference has caused a commotion, so I must lay low... at least for the time being."
As the words faded, the palace doors swung open, and a tall, slender dark eldrida entered. Her pointed ears and ethereal beauty were striking, but her expression remained cold, detached.
The shadowed being regarded her. "I sent you to wash the specimen, not to interfere. Why did you save him from the goblin?"
The dark eldridas replied without emotion. "You went to great trouble to take that creature from their hands. It seemed wasteful to let it die without... interest. So, I interfered. But all I did was drop a coin. Nothing more."
The entity's grin widened. "A coin that distracted the creature, indeed. I cannot be that unhappy after all, I got to wash that... rat. Performed such a wonderfully, entertaining fight with the fallen king."
Though its tone dripped with amusement, an undercurrent of warning lingered. "But disobedience must not go unpunished. You shall go into isolation for five years."
The dark elf showed no reaction. "May I take my leave, my Lord?"
With a dismissive wave of a hidden limb, the entity allowed her to depart. Once alone, it mused aloud, "That girl is no fun. Even after cutting up her limbs and using her eyes to play a game of foresee the future, she showed no reaction."
Its emerald gaze burned brighter as it whispered into the darkness, "Well, then. I must prepare for the coming chaos. They believe they can wash me away, but my plans are already in motion. Nothing will stop what is coming."
---
Nala ran.
Her armored body, clad in battered steel plate, thundered through the colossal, trembling corridors of the Black Gate Fortress. She barely registered the missing pieces of her armor, the way the mangled steel clattered with every stride. Agility carried her forward fluidly, unconscious grace honed by decades of war. Even now, her speed would shame any common soldier.
Yet it meant nothing.
she thought bitterly, her amber eyes red-rimmed, tears threatening to spill anew.
Around her, the fortress shuddered under relentless assault. Enchantment users, eldridas, dwarves, fae, humans and even the hobbits, worked in grim desperation, their voices hoarse as they wove the world's energy into the crumbling walls. Their faces were haggard, their movements frantic. Not the acts of victors, she knew. These were the last, defiant strokes of the already doomed.
Another titanic impact rocked the fortress, slamming her into the reinforced stone. She barely grunted, pushing forward. Compared to the devastation outside, her pain was a teardrop in a storm.
At last, she reached the towering iron doors of the War Room, twelve meters high, humming with enchantments. Two armored Arc Watchers stood sentinel, unmoved by the apocalypse around them. "The world is ending," she marveled, "and they stand as if it's just another day." Their indifference rankled her, but there was no time to dwell.
Inside, controlled chaos reigned. Officers, scribes, and attendants moved with disciplined urgency, their expressions tight with suppressed despair. The War Room, the heart of their resistance, was a place of cold efficiency, but beneath it, panic simmered.
And she was the one who would shatter it completely.
"The Black Gate has fallen!" Her voice, sharpened by years of command, cut through the din. The room froze. Dozens of eyes locked onto her, shock, disbelief, resignation.
Silence.
"The Grey Ones are through, my Guardian!" Her voice cracked. "The Arc-Watchers have failed. The line… the line is broken."
A ripple of horror spread through the chamber. All eyes turned to the figure at its center.
The Guardian.
Golden armor pristine, black hair framing golden luminous eyes, his face was an unreadable mask, until, slowly, it settled into something like calm acceptance.
"How?" he asked, warm as ever, beckoning her forward.
"The Apostles," she choked out. The word sent a shudder through the room. "They came at the last moment. The Watchers were… broken."
The Guardian didn't flinch. Instead, he turned to his officers.
"The Night Watchers will hold the rear. The dawn Watchers will buy us time." His gaze softened as it returned to her. "You have done your duty well."
Praise, from the Guardian. She should have reveled in it. Instead, it felt like a funeral dirge.
The world was ending.
Then the Guardian spoke again, his voice a clarion call. "Tonight, the centuries of war end." He met each of their eyes. "The Watchers will fall. Such is our fate."
A punch to the gut. Nala nearly doubled over, another sob clawing at her throat. Around her, hardened officers broke, tears streaming down their faces.
"However…"The Guardian's voice snapped them back. Against all reason, against the certainty of death "hope" flickered in her chest. "We are not lost. We may fall, but our will would not be extinguished."
Another explosion rocked the fortress. Distant screams echoed as the southern gates shattered. The end was coming.
Yet no one looked away from him.
He was the sun in the storm.
And she clung to that light like a drowning woman.
"I ask you now," the Guardian said, "to join me in one final defiance."
Confusion rippled through the room. Nala's breath caught.
"Within this fortress lies an escape route." His words dropped like stones. "I ask a chosen few to carry word of our fall to ensure the world remembers the ancient treaty, and prepares for true victory."
Silence. Disbelief. Despair.
"Escape?" Nala's lips parted in shock. "After everything, this is what he asks?"
"My Guardian!" someone cried. "You ask us to flee?"
"I ask you to endure," he corrected, his tone brooking no argument. "This is no retreat. It is the last mission of the Black Gate."
Her entire being rebelled. years of service screamed that this was wrong.
Then BOOM.
The fortress heaved. Screams erupted. For a heartbeat, terror reigned.
Then the Guardian spoke again, and silence fell like a shroud.
"I do not ask you to abandon your posts," he said. "Only to carry our mission forward. To remind the world of the ancient treaty. To prepare for the final battle."
His golden eyes locked onto hers.
"Nala. You will lead them."
He pressed a parcel into her hands, a map of the fortress's underground network.
"There is no time to argue. Go. Now."
Final. Unyielding.
The Guardian lifted his helmet, its enchanted surface shimmering. "Our last duty is simple, old Watchers," he said, grinning. "We buy time for the young. We show the Grey Ones what it means to face the Black Gate."
His voice was like a fire in the dark.
Nala felt her spine straighten.
"Now is the hour when all walls fail!" he roared."We show the Grey Ones what it means to storm this fortress. We make them bleed for every step."
"Here, under the gaze of our ancestors, we make our stand!"
Golden "kuros" erupted from him, a sunburst of power. It wrapped around her, warm, invincible.
Around the room, weapons were drawn. Helmets secured. Tears were shed but resolve hardened.
"FOR THE BLACK GATE FORTRESS!" the Guardian thundered.
"FOR THE GUARDIAN!"they answered.
"FOR THE REALM!"
Nala wept.
She knew this was the last she would ever see of them.