Mavobella: The Angel Of Death

Chapter 27

"The tides are now higher than they’d ever been, swelling against the shores of the island. Anubistopia, once a place of strange stability, now seems to be on the verge of sinking beneath the waves. It isn't just the water—there is something far deeper at play. Mavobella is back, and somehow, all signs point to her and her company.” Everywhere I turned, the highlights—those relentless rumors—targeted us, painting us as villains.

A protest had started small but grew quickly. Caketopia, our refuge, had been forced to close due to the mobs. Fear and anger clung to the streets like a shadow, and in the chaos, opportunists had taken the lives of three angels. In the name of equilibrium.

And now, all that blame had channeled back to me. How had this become my fault? I hadn’t the faintest idea, or maybe I did, but I couldn't care less.

It would have been Nicole’s worst day, but guess what? Despite all the chaos, we were headed for the last gem. Victory was within our grasp, shimmering just on the horizon. After all this time, we were so close to getting out of this prison, this strange purgatory, and I wasn’t alone. Wade and Nicole—they were getting out too. There was no more time to look back.

This time, instead of toddling to the other end of the island, we did something entirely different. We took—no, wait. We didn’t exactly “take.” Well, maybe we did steal it, but at this point, we’d already been branded the bad guys anyway—a carriage. A gleaming, sleek carriage that we rode straight to the destination the map had shown us. The map was a liar, of course, because nothing about this journey was smooth.

Forthwith we got to the shore, we dove deep into the sea, the warmth of the water becoming impossible to ignore. It wasn’t a gentle heat, like lying in the sun. No, this was the kind of warmth that made you feel like you were being boiled alive. The deeper we swam, the more it shimmered around us, making the ocean floor below ripple like a mirage. The map had led us to the base of an underwater mountain. But unlike the sun or a monster’s venom, the heat here was far more dangerous. The mountain was alive, ready to explode at any moment, and the boiling water warned us of the impending eruption.

“It’s like a boiling pot down here,” Wade’s voice echoed through our telepathic link, the sensation wrapping around us like a comforting blanket in the otherwise chaotic environment. He wiped at his brow, even though we were underwater. His sword, which normally glowed with a soft orange hue, now burned an even deeper, molten shade, blending into the fiery glow of the cracks spreading through the mountain below us.

Nicole’s usually calm expression had cracked, her face flushed from the heat. “This place could blow any second,” she muttered, shaking her head. “If we don’t find that gem fast, we’re going to be toast.”

“No pressure, then,” I muttered under my breath, gripping Ye tightly. My eyes scanned the rocky, uneven terrain, searching for any sign of danger. But there were no monsters, no glowing green eyes, no venomous guardians waiting to attack us. Just heat, silence, and a sense of foreboding. Something was off. Every other gem had been fiercely protected by creatures determined to kill us. But here? It felt like the mountain itself was the enemy.

“There,” Wade pointed, his finger trembling slightly as he gestured toward a ledge halfway up the mountain. There, glistening on a pedestal, was the blue gem we were searching for. It shimmered against the molten backdrop, shining like a beacon. No tricks. No monsters. It seemed far too easy.

My stomach twisted with unease, but there was no turning back now. “Let’s move,” I said, my voice not carrying the confidence it usually did.

We swam upward, each stroke feeling heavier than the last. The water grew hotter with every meter, and the mountain groaned beneath us, as if it were alive and angry. Wade led the way, his sword slicing through the heated water like a torch, illuminating the path ahead. Nicole stayed close, her neon green liquid gun at the ready, though no threats appeared. Nothing to fight but the blistering heat.