The Beginning Of An End

Chapter 33

It was Charles Dickens that had said "it was the best of times, it was the worst of times." Humans loved to quote famous people and as I was running towards the Underworld, I felt slightly more like one of them. Memories, like a relentless film reel, were flashing right before my eyes as if I was struggling to hold onto the past I'd had here in Astral. It was nostalgia with no fulfillment, realizing that all those moments were equally meaningless due to each creature's greed for power. And suddenly, as if a wave washed over me, I felt nothing towards all those gods and demons behind me and the only ones that mattered were running alongside with me.

The rumbling behind us was growing louder and for a second it felt like the whole of Abaddon's realm was about to collapse within itself. Seemingly out of nowhere, shadow tendrils began reaching out towards us and grasping at the air, writhing like living creatures born from the dark. It was the combined power of all demons chasing after us.

I could hear the shifting of stone, the echoing cries of distant gods and demons, but all of that faded into the background as those black tendrils shot toward us with terrifying speed.
One of the tendrils lashed out, grazing Belial's arm. He winced but didn't slow down, pushing through the pain with a grim determination. Loki, who was just ahead of me, turned his head slightly, his eyes darting toward the oncoming threat. The tendrils were gaining on us, moving faster, angrier, as if the realm itself was desperate to pull us back into its clutches.

And then it happened.

A particularly large tendril wrapped itself around Loki's ankle, jerking him backward with such force that it nearly yanked him off his feet.

"Loki!" I screamed, my heart slamming against my ribs.

He tried to keep running, to shake it off, but the tendril only tightened its grip, dragging him down. His sword clattered to the ground, and before any of us could react, the ground beneath him began to split open. Dark energy seeped through the cracks like smoke, and I saw the panic in his eyes as he fought against the force that had latched onto him. I didn't expect the power of all demons would cause one of the most powerful realms in Astral to crack. But nothing was normal anymore.

Almost instantly, I lunger over at him, grabbing him by the arm. Together, we heaved, pulling with every ounce of strength we had. But the tendrils didn't relent—they only grew tighter, angrier.

Loki's face was pale, his breath ragged, "It's... not letting go."

"We're not losing you here," I growled, tightening my grip.

The ground beneath him began to shift again, the cracks widening, and a chill ran down my spine.

"Belial!" I barked, desperation clawing at me.

Belial's jaw clenched, his eyes flicking towards the horde in relentless pursuit. "We don't have time for this," he muttered, more to himself than anyone. But instead of running, he planted his feet more firmly into the ground, determination written across his face. With a growl, he dug his heels in and pulled harder.

The tendril snapped back in response, yanking Loki down with such force that I nearly lost my grip. The ground beneath me began to crack, pieces of stone crumbling away as the void threatened to swallow us all.

I glanced at Loki, his eyes meeting mine for just a second—there was fear there, yes, but also something else. A flicker of trust. A belief that I wouldn't let him fall.

"We're getting out of here," I promised, my voice shaking with the effort.

And then, just as the tendril seemed ready to consume him whole, something shifted in the air—a sudden burst of energy, a pulse that reverberated through the realm. The tendril loosened, just for a fraction of a second, and that was all we needed.