What Comes Through the Gate
1073 Words
The sound of breaking stone echoed like thunder.
Lucien tightened his hold on Aria as the chamber trembled violently beneath them. Dust poured from the ceiling, and the ancient runes along the walls shattered one by one, their light dying out like fading stars.
Below them, the abyss no longer looked like a prison.
It looked like an opening.
Azryth’s massive wings shifted uneasily as the dragon stared downward, golden eyes narrowed with rare concern.
“That,” the dragon rumbled, “was not supposed to happen.”
Lucien rose carefully, keeping Aria supported against him.
“What is coming?” he demanded.
Azryth did not answer immediately.
Which frightened Lucien more than any explanation could have.
The darkness below moved.
Not like a creature climbing.
Like reality itself was being pulled apart.
A deep humming sound filled the chamber — low, vibrating, ancient. The air warped, bending toward the abyss as if gravity had changed its direction.
Aria groaned softly in Lucien’s arms.
Her eyes fluttered open.
“What… happened?”
Relief flickered across Lucien’s face.
“You pushed it back.”
Her voice was weak. “Did it work?”
Before he could answer—
A massive surge of energy erupted upward.
Lucien spun, shielding her as a pillar of black light shot from the abyss and slammed into the ceiling, tearing through stone like paper.
The chamber exploded outward.
Azryth roared, spreading its wings to stabilize itself against the violent force.
“The gate is opening!” the dragon shouted.
Aria blinked rapidly.
“The gate?”
Lucien’s expression darkened.
“The seal wasn’t just a prison.”
Another shockwave burst upward.
“It was a door.”
The darkness condensed above the abyss, twisting into a swirling vortex. Shapes flickered inside it — silhouettes that did not belong to the human world.
Aria felt cold dread settle into her stomach.
“Those… are not shadows.”
“No,” Lucien said grimly.
“They’re trying to cross.”
A clawed hand pushed through the vortex.
Long.
Black.
Covered in shifting markings that glowed faintly red.
Aria gasped.
The hand gripped the edge of reality itself and pulled.
A creature dragged itself halfway through — tall, skeletal, its body made of smoke and bone-like fragments.
Its hollow eyes burned crimson.
Lucien immediately drew his blade.
“Stay behind me.”
The creature shrieked, a sound that felt wrong to hear, like glass scraping against thought itself.
Azryth growled deeply.
“Voidborn.”
Lucien’s grip tightened.
“I thought they were extinct.”
“They were sealed,” Azryth corrected.
The creature lunged forward—
Lucien moved faster.
His blade flashed with dark silver light as he struck, slicing through the creature’s torso. The being split apart into fragments of shadow that dissolved into the air with a piercing scream.
But the vortex only grew larger.
More shapes pressed against its surface.
Dozens.
Aria’s heart pounded.
“There are more.”
“Yes,” Lucien said quietly.
And then another claw emerged.
And another.
The chamber filled with the sound of scratching, tearing, forcing.
Azryth lifted its head.
“The barrier between worlds is collapsing.”
Aria stared at the widening vortex.
“This is because of me, isn’t it?”
Lucien didn’t answer.
That silence was enough.
Her chest tightened.
“I made it worse.”
“No,” Lucien said firmly. “You delayed something that was already coming.”
Azryth added quietly, “The awakening accelerated the inevitable.”
Another Voidborn creature forced its way through, followed by two more.
Lucien stepped forward, power igniting around him like a storm.
“We cannot hold them here long.”
Aria pushed herself upright despite exhaustion.
“What do I do?”
Lucien turned sharply.
“You rest.”
She gave him an incredulous look.
“There are monsters crawling out of a cosmic hole and you want me to sit down?”
“You nearly tore your soul apart,” he said.
“And yet I’m still standing.”
The vortex pulsed again.
A deeper roar echoed from within — something far larger approaching the gate.
Azryth’s wings tensed.
“That presence…”
Even the dragon sounded wary.
Lucien noticed immediately.
“You recognize it.”
Azryth’s voice lowered.
“Yes.”
A long pause.
“One of the generals.”
Aria blinked.
“General of what?”
The dragon’s golden eyes darkened.
“The army that once tried to devour this world.”
The temperature in the chamber dropped instantly.
A massive silhouette appeared within the vortex.
Humanoid.
But enormous.
Horns curved from its head like obsidian blades, and its eyes burned like twin suns behind the veil between worlds.
Lucien’s expression hardened.
“We are leaving.”
Aria stared at him.
“Leaving?”
“We cannot fight that here.”
Another Voidborn leapt toward them.
Lucien cut it down effortlessly, grabbing Aria’s hand.
“Move!”
Azryth roared, flames bursting from its jaws to hold back the advancing creatures.
“Hurry, little mortals!”
The chamber collapsed further as Lucien pulled Aria toward the exit corridor.
Behind them, the vortex widened fully.
The horned figure stepped closer to the threshold.
Reality cracked around it.
A deep voice echoed through the chamber — calm, powerful, inevitable.
“So…”
The sound froze Aria mid-step.
“…the vessel lives.”
Lucien’s eyes widened.
It was speaking directly to her.
The creature’s burning gaze locked onto Aria through the collapsing space.
“We have searched for you across centuries.”
Aria felt the power inside her react violently again.
Lucien pulled her forward urgently.
“Do not listen!”
The voice continued, amused.
“The Devil awakens… and the world opens once more.”
The horned being pressed its hand against the barrier.
Cracks spread instantly.
Lucien realized the terrifying truth.
“It’s stronger than the seal ever was.”
Azryth roared again.
“GO!”
Lucien dragged Aria through the corridor just as the chamber behind them exploded in light and darkness.
The last thing Aria heard before the tunnel collapsed—
Was the creature’s voice echoing after her.
“We will find you, little creator.”
The tunnel sealed behind them with a deafening crash.
Silence fell.
Aria stood frozen, breathing hard.
Her voice barely came out.
“…Creator?”
Lucien didn’t answer.
Because for the first time—
He was afraid that word might be true.
- Writer
