The Sky Lighthouse

"Oh. My. God. Why am I here?" Jean's heart thundered in her chest as she sprinted through the corridors of colors, the sound of her frantic footsteps echoing off the cold stone walls. Behind them— shadowy eldritch figures were in hot pursuit with relentless determination, their forms twisting and contorting with each passing moment. "What am I doing here. Why am I running for my life?" "Focus! They can sense your distractions!" A voice shared with her, a young gentleman wearing a tailored black frock coat with subtle pinstripes that accentuate his slender frame, the fabric falling in graceful folds as he moves. "This isn't real. I'm... I'm supposed to be in class right now!" "Just run Jean. You don't want them catching up, you've seen what they did to Thomas." She clutched the relic tightly in her hand, her heart beating fast. Her entire body was flooded with the flight and fight chemicals, although, at this point, it's probably all flight. I was supposed to learn Catecholamine Synthesis right now. Why am I experiencing it first-hand? The relic was still cradled in her arms. Its cool surface pulsed with an otherworldly energy that seemed to repel the darkness that threatened to engulf them. The maze was cunning, its paths shifting and changing with each step Jean took. Dead ends loomed around every corner, taunting her and her companion with their impenetrable walls and impassable barriers. It was a puzzle, a twisted game of cat and mouse played out on a grand scale. As they turned a corner, Jean stumbled upon a chamber bathed in an eerie, green light. In the center of the room stood a pedestal, upon which rested a glowing orb that seemed to pulse with untamed energy. "We're trapped." The man spoke. "Isn't there some other way? A trapdoor? You're the dimension-hopper think of something!" "We have to go back," They had no choice. With the shadowy presence drawing ever closer, they have to act fast. "The soul orb... on the pedestal" Jean pointed at the glowing green orb. "What about it?" The man asked. "What's one thing the dead want most?" "A one-way ticket to heaven?" "What? No—it's life! The essence of it." "Oh, quick thinking, Jean!" The man reached out and grasped the orb in his hand, its energy coursing through his veins like liquid fire. And then, with a surge of adrenaline, he hurled the orb towards the approaching threat, its light piercing through the darkness like a beacon in the night. For a fleeting moment, the shadow faltered, its form flickering and waning in the face of the orb's radiant glow. "Now!" Seizing their chance, the two darted past the weakened creatures, her heart pounding in her chest as she raced towards the other end of the labyrinth. "Jean, I need you to trust me on this." "I wanna go home." Jean's eyes watered. "My backlogs are killing me." "We will! But you have to trust me on this." Jean's face was reluctant, but she knew there wasn't much of an option at this point. "I need you to stay in one spot." The man said. "Are you crazy?" Jean's voice boomed along the walls. Behind her, she could hear the shadow's furious howls of rage, a legion of voices screaming and wailing, as it struggled to regain its strength and pursue her once more. "Please tell me you're crazy." Jean's voice cracked. "The relic you hold isn't what they actually want. You're their target." The man said. "What do you mean?" Jean asked confused. "As long as we're here, your soul is all for claim by the damned, it's the relic's curse." "Are you seriously saying that now?" "Well you touched it first because you thought it was pretty." "You should have told me that before I picked it up! I can't believe you." The man smiled. "I honestly didn't think it would lead to a legion of souls tormented for a millennium bursting from the walls. I was expecting something less extreme, maybe something funny." His shoulders lifted in apology paired with an awkward smile.. "I hate you!" Jean screamed. "But good news is, it's the only reason why they can't hurt you." "Huh?" "Because if you think I'd let you be in that danger, then you're a fool. I'm actually the most vulnerable to having my soul-stolen here. So if you want us to open a portal out of here, I need you to stand in one place and coalesce them there. When the portal is open I'll come get you." He took out a crystal and began drawing a circle around her. "Stay in the circle, it will help silence their voices. And whatever you do, do not let one hand go from the sphere." He ran a few meters from her and began chanting a portal for their escape. "Close your eyes and don't look, Jean!" He screamed. With every ounce of strength and determination she possessed, she stood her ground, her eyes fixed firmly on the light that beckoned her from beyond that last corridor as the man prepared the portal. For what felt like a very long time, swallowed in darkness, and hearing voices as faintly as a gentle breeze, with her fingers cold from grasping around the shape of the ovoid sphere, a hand suddenly grabbed her arm from the darkness and a searing light began to bathe the entire place. The shadows dispersed around them. Finally, the two entered the portal and it closed behind them. And then, at long last, she emerged into the cool night air, the moon hanging high in the sky above her like a silent guardian. With a triumphant cry of victory, Jean clutched the relic tightly in her hand, its power coursing through her veins like a lifeline. They had escaped the labyrinth, but she knew that her journey was far from over. For the relic she held was more than just a key— it was a beacon of hope in a world consumed by darkness. Jean dropped on the grassy meadows, her adrenals calming down and her heart rate still soaring through the roof. "We made it out," Jean sighed. "We did." The man answered. "I can't believe it." "Yeah me, too. Finally, I can start preparing that omelet." "I know right, that was a— excuse me, a what?" "Omelet." "I-I don't understand. What does this have to do with an omelet?" "Not a omelet. The omelet." Jean's expression turned grim. Her eyes turned towards the sphere in her hands. Black as obsidian, with stars twinkling on its gleaming surface. She looked up and saw the man smile a grin. Her eyebrows began to furrow as her hands extended towards his jugulars. "You said this mission was of astronomic proportions!" "No wait, I told you it was something gastronomic!" Under the quiet night sky, she chased after him across the meadow. Jean had to strangle some sense into Raim— the fate of the world depended on it.