Story:The End of Eternity/E11

 XI 

The city hosting the Thousand Eternal Ritual was simultaneously a microcosm of activity and a graveyard of existence. There seemed to be no movement or life in the gargantuan ruins, like a spur of movement in peripheral vision that refuses to budge when focused upon; but like said spur of consciousness, as soon as one looked away, the spot surged into motion once again.

Thus was the state that Arend and Klaytaza found themselves in when they arrived in the Thousand Eternal City, or simply the City as Arend mentally dubbed it. This location, as Klaytaza had confirmed, was the projected impact point of the falling red moon. The point of Arend’s journey to the city was twofold; to hijack the Ritual, and to watch the end of the world with his own two eyes.

After arriving in the city, even though he could not immediately discern if there was even anyone living within its gigantic limits, Arend felt deep within his soul that this would be the location he would die in.

Within his heart, although he had mostly dispelled all doubts thanks to his conversation with Klaytaza on the train and fully committed himself to his fate, there was still a curtain of anxiety and despair that dragged down his every breath. There was a very good chance that he would never truly shake this pain within his soul, but something about the City made his mental condition so much worse.

The entire metropolitan region seemed to radiate with an unspeakable, indescribable energy. It palpitated like an immense industrial heart, spilling over with life whilst drowning in death. The environment boggled the mind, refused to be understood; it was like nothing Arend had experienced before.

That was when he knew without a doubt that the rest of the Keys to Eternity resided in this City, and that the final Thousand Eternal Ritual would take place within its limits.

“I sense them,” Klaytaza stated as soon as they took their first steps off the train. In front of the two, the streets were quiet. So intensely quiet. “They are everywhere. They are watching. There are so many of them, Master.” She looked to Arend with a pleading look.

He did not return her gaze, but stepped forward as he crossed his arms over his chest. “There aren’t enough. They will fade.” Despite his bravado, the confirmation of his foes before him filled Arend with a crushing feeling of anxiety and fear like nothing before.

But now, more than ever, he found himself brave and able to function despite his fear. All of his existential worries were being channeled into action, thought, plans, and clear visions. Above all, he see the red moon in the sky, looming larger with each hour that passed. The fact that he could see his plans unfurling in front of him – his destruction inching ever closer – was giving him a newfound energy.

He couldn’t afford to be afraid, or to hesitate. Not when he had sacrificed so much just to come this far.

Arend started to walk forward into the labyrinth of the City, and Klaytaza followed him after a moment. “Why have they not attacked us yet,” Arend wondered aloud. “Do they not realize we have arrived?”

“Unlikely,” Klaytaza retorted. “Most of the Keys are concentrated in the very heart of the City. They are preparing the Ritual for its final stages. The Ark has already been summoned; now they must guide it.”

“The Ark…?” Arend looked up at the red moon. “So that’s what it’s called… You said most? So not all of the Keys are involved in the ritual?”

“Correct. The Ritual requires the presence of several hundred Keys, but I can feel that there are others, scattered about for miles. There will be no escaping them.”

“Good,” Arend stated with a gulp. “I don’t want to escape.” His body was screaming the opposite, but it was Arend’s stubborn mind and heart that allowed him to persist in the face of what was certainly certain death. “So,” he stated with a somewhat nervous chuckle, “how soon until they show their cowardly faces?”

Right at that moment, Klaytaza forcibly pushed Arend to the side. He had been twirling the pen in his fingers, and as she pushed him, it was ejected from his grip and flew into the air. His Key did not have time to transform into her battle garb, but as Arend was pushed out of the way, she reached in the air for the pen. In response, it was bathed in light and transformed instantaneously into the double-sided longsword that she was so skilled in using.

Before she could grab the blade, Klaytaza shuddered and unnaturally fell straight down into the ground. Her impact caused more destruction that logic seemed to dictate, and the faded concrete cracked and splintered beneath her. The summoned blade fell to the ground. Some distance away from the two discarded objects, Arend was propelled by Klaytaza’s push and fell onto the wall of a nearby building.

All of this occurred in only a second’s time, and after that second had elapsed, a figure hopped down from the roof of the building Arend leaned upon. The instant before he was to hit the ground, the figure seemed to pause in midair – his fall halted for but a breath – and afterwards he tapped onto the ground lightly. Behind him, following the exact same action, a female with bright red hair and white celestial armor over her black bodysuit landed.

The figure, a boy who appeared not much older than Arend, had terrible posture and a bit of a chunky body. Nonetheless, he had his hands in his pockets and a look of pure confidence on his face as he looked to Arend, who still posted upon the wall of the building and looked upon the scene with alarm.

“So you really came,” the boy who floated said. “A lot of us didn’t think you were stupid enough to come right to our front door. Shows what we knew.”

“Nothing,” Arend stated as he pushed himself up from the wall and stood, mirroring the boy with his hands in his pockets. “That’s what you know.” The enemy Key looked to Arend with eyes filled with nothing, but this emptiness still seemed to resonate with hatred. In contrast, the enemy Master only chuckled at Arend’s bravado. Klaytaza struggled with gravity to move, but ultimately only flailed about uselessly.

“Says the kid about to die,” smirked the man with the red-headed Key. “You’re up against an army. What can you even do?”

Arend took a step forward. “Fight,” he stated, “and win.” Defiance was painted all over his body.

The man with the red-headed Key smirked and raised his defined eyebrows. “Right… Twichitatl, handle him.” In response to his command, the Key raised a skinny, hate-filled finger towards Arend.

A second later, Arend fell to his knees with widened eyes. Gravity and the air around him had suddenly grown much heavier and his own body became incredibly dense, so much so that his legs had instantly buckled and he fell to the ground. The boy struggled to resist what was undoubtedly the Key’s ability, but the more he did so, the more his body shook and screamed out in agony. Sweat began to drench his clothes as he fell to his hands now.

“Your Key is crushed, and now you will be, as well. You fool… You were born to lose. Just give in.” The boy with the red-headed Key let out a laugh as his Key stepped forward. The gravity bearing down on Arend increased and he felt his bones tremble. “Be crushed beneath gravity’s grip! Be crushed beneath God’s grip!”

“My Key… is crushed? And now… myself, huh?” Arend managed to choke out. He felt his teeth threatening to be grinded into dust every time he closed his mouth. “Why not… both of us at once?”

The man standing stopped in his tracks for a second. His hesitation was slight and lasted for a hair’s length of time, but it was visible and Arend noticed it. Despite feeling like his internal organs were about to be smashed into dust, he smirked.

By now Klaytaza had silently transformed into her battle garb, and during the process, she regained some of her strength from her broken body. Picking up the discarded longsword, she slashed forward at the speed of light. Before the man or his red-headed Key could change any of the nearby gravity or retaliate, they were both bisected and instantly killed by Klaytaza’s decisive strike.

The gravity around Arend instantly returned to normal once the man was killed, and he instantly began to struggle for breath as his lungs enjoyed the ability to expand once more.

After a short time of recovery during which time Klaytaza absorbed the essence of the fallen Key, Arend stood and dusted the dirt from his clothes. “What an easy victory,” he murmured. “It’s almost getting insulting. These enemies are pathetically easy.”

“None of the Keys are allowed to explicitly train or instruct their Masters,” Klaytaza explained, “but that was likely a bottom level warrior sent to deter us. Those performing the Thousand Eternal Ritual will be exponentially stronger, my Master.”

“Hmph… So every one of us are simple pawns gifted with power and sent out to die.” Arend spit onto the ground and thrust a hand into his pocket. Klaytaza dismissed her sword and handed the pen to her master as he began to walk deeper into the city once again. “Very well then. If there is an army, I will simply defeat them all. And I will crush this ritual.”

“My Master,” Klaytaza’s voice warned from a fair distance behind Arend. “They loom…” Her voice trailed off, as if her inhuman vocal cords were failing her. This sound was unfamiliar, and Arend turned around in confusion to investigate the source of this oddity.

Klaytaza’s body had collapsed into a heap of black and silver, all limbs and darkness spread-eagle as if she had fallen without any consciousness left within her. Directly behind her an army of silver-armed Keys stood menacingly watching Arend’s every move.

KEYS TO ETERNITY REMAINING: 989