The Rift's pulse was relentless, a throbbing beat in Sam's chest that seemed to sync with his own heartbeat. Every breath he took felt heavier, each exhale dragging him closer to the abyss. The light of his Resonance flickered in his veins, a dim beacon in the vast, endless darkness that pressed in on him from all sides.
Rael's grip tightened on his arm, his presence a lifeline in the overwhelming storm of the Rift's energy. Sam could feel his friend's determination, that unyielding will to pull him back from the edge.
"Focus," Rael said, his voice firm yet gentle, urging Sam to center himself. "Fight the darkness, Sam. You have to fight it. You've done it before."
But Sam's eyes were wide, unfocused, as he fought to make sense of the chaos swirling around him. He could see flashes—visions that weren't his own, memories not of his making. He saw Lapu-Lapu, standing tall in the midst of a battlefield, his sword raised in defiance. He saw Bonifacio, a fire in his eyes, leading a revolution with a strength that seemed to shake the earth itself.
And then, there was that other version of him—the dark Sam, standing alone, his eyes voids of despair. The Rift was pulling him into that future, that corrupted version of himself. He could feel it, taste it on his tongue—the bitter knowledge that if he wasn't careful, that future would become his.
"No," Sam whispered, shaking his head as though trying to dislodge the vision. "I won't become that. I won't."
But the Rift wasn't done with him. It wrapped around him, pulling him deeper into its maw, suffocating him. It was a slow, inevitable process—like a weight pressing down on his chest, making it harder to breathe, harder to think.
Valencia's voice broke through the haze, clear and strong, like a blade cutting through the fog.
"Sam!" she shouted. "We're here with you. You're not alone in this."
Her words cut through the dissonance of his thoughts, grounding him for a moment. His mind cleared, just enough to realize that the Rift wasn't just attacking him. It was attacking them all—Rael, Valencia, his friends, his allies. The Rift didn't care about Sam. It cared about the past, about rewriting history, erasing everything that stood in its way.
"You're not alone," Valencia repeated, stepping closer. She placed a hand on his shoulder, her grip steady and unshakable.
Sam's breath came in ragged gasps as he struggled to focus. He could feel his Vein flickering beneath his skin, surging with raw power. The resonance of his ancestors, their voices calling to him, pulling him back from the brink.
With a grunt, he forced himself to stand, his legs unsteady beneath him but holding firm. He looked at Rael and Valencia, his eyes burning with determination.
"We need to stop this," Sam said, his voice low but steady. "We need to stop the Rift before it destroys everything. Before it erases all of us."
Rael gave him a sharp nod. "Then let's do it together."
But just as the words left his mouth, the world around them seemed to shift. The air grew thick with pressure, the ground trembling beneath their feet. The Rift, sensing their resolve, reacted violently, lashing out with its full force.
The first wave hit them like a shockwave, a wave of darkness that sent them sprawling. Sam fought to keep his footing, his body straining as the Rift's energy pressed in on him from all sides. His Vein crackled, sending waves of lightning through his limbs, but it wasn't enough. The Rift's power was overwhelming.
"We have to keep moving!" Valencia shouted, her voice cutting through the chaos. "If we don't stop the heart of the Rift, everything we've fought for will be gone. We can't let it consume us."
Sam's mind raced. The heart of the Rift. The very center of it all. He knew where it was—it was the core of the Abyss, the place where everything began. And it was where the true battle would be fought.
But even as he tried to move forward, another wave of energy hit, sending him crashing to the ground. He gasped, struggling to get back on his feet, but the weight of the Rift's power was too much.
And then, there was a sound—a distant, echoing thrum that vibrated through the air, shaking the very fabric of reality. It was the sound of something ancient, something powerful.
Sam's heart skipped a beat.
The Chain Monks.
The dark figures appeared from the shadows, their forms shifting like ghosts, their weapons gleaming with dark energy. They were silent, but their presence was suffocating, like the weight of an unspoken command. They moved with precision, their eyes glowing with the same cold malice that Sam had felt from the very beginning.
Valencia's grip tightened on her weapon, her face hardening. "We can't hold them off forever," she said. "We need to get to the heart of the Rift—now."
Rael was already moving, his sword drawn, his eyes locked on the Chain Monks. "Stay close. We fight our way through."
The Chain Monks advanced, their weapons raised, their bodies shifting in and out of reality like phantoms. Sam felt a chill run down his spine. These were not mere soldiers—they were the embodiment of the Rift's power, twisted into something unrecognizable.
One of the Chain Monks lunged at Sam, its blade cutting through the air with a sickening hiss. Sam barely had time to react, his body moving on instinct as he parried the blow with his kampilan. The impact sent a shockwave through his arm, but he held firm, pushing back with all his strength.
The Monk's eyes flickered with malevolent energy, its form shifting again, its movements erratic and unpredictable. But Sam didn't hesitate. He pressed forward, his kampilan slashing through the air with deadly precision, forcing the Monk back.
Rael and Valencia were beside him, their own weapons dancing through the air, cutting down the other Chain Monks with swift, lethal strikes. But even as they fought, Sam could feel the weight of the Rift closing in around them, the darkness creeping closer with every passing moment.
"We need to keep moving!" Valencia yelled again, her voice barely audible over the din of battle.
Sam nodded, his chest tightening as he tried to push through the pain. But the Rift's hold was growing stronger, its power seeping into his veins, his very soul. He could feel his Vein struggling to contain it, but the force was relentless.
"We need to get to the heart," Sam repeated, his voice strained. "Before it's too late."
And then, just as they thought they were making progress, a voice—cold, mocking—echoed through the battlefield.
"You think you can stop this?" The voice was a whisper in Sam's mind, but it was everywhere, pressing in from all sides. "You are nothing. Just fragments of a forgotten past."
Sam's vision blurred, his knees buckling as the words sank in, but he couldn't stop. He couldn't let them win. Not now. Not when they were so close.
But then, as the darkness began to overwhelm him, something shifted—a flicker of light in the distance, a pulse of power.
And then, the Rift trembled.
The ground cracked open beneath them, a fissure splitting the earth as the heart of the Rift revealed itself—a massive, pulsing mass of energy, dark and twisting, feeding off the chaos around it. Sam's heart skipped a beat.
It was time.
As Sam, Rael, and Valencia steeled themselves to face the heart of the Rift, the Chain Monks pressed in from all sides, their weapons drawn and their presence suffocating. The battle for reality had only just begun—and Sam knew that this was where everything would be decided.
But the Rift had one more trick to play.