He would turn this entire mountain top into a sun.
The imagined scale of it nearly took my breath away and I wanted to laugh. I didn't know for certain that was what he planned, but it was what I would do at least. It was a final, defiant act of vengeance that would wipe every abomination on this peak from existence.
But he couldn't do it yet. He had to wait. He had to let the civilians get far enough away, or the shockwave, the sheer thermal bloom of the detonation, would catch them on the foothills and vaporize them just as surely as the monsters. Our sacrifice wasn't just to hold the barrier. It was to keep the Radiance stable and contained until the precise moment Theron could unleash its fury without killing the very people we were trying to save.
We were buying distance with our lives. We were the fuse, burning down slowly, giving the bomb time to arm itself and its targets time to flee its blast radius. I tightened my grip on the hands beside me, pouring every ounce of my will into the flow. The Telepathist in me sensed the same grim understanding dawning on the others. There was no panic anymore. Just a cold, resigned focus. We were no longer just priests and guards. We were a component in a doomsday weapon. Our function was to burn out at the designated time.
The Radiance glowed brighter, accepting its final offering silently. Did it know what awaited it at the end of this meal? Did it possess any level of intelligence at all, even that of the Spell's? Probably not, if Theron's attitude was anything to go by. Still, I was sure it would be joyously celebrating if it could right now. It had the chance to send thousands of Void Creatures back where they came from, after all.
The chamber had become a tomb illuminated by a dying star. The air itself felt thin, siphoned away by the Radiance's relentless hunger. One by one, the others had gone. There was no grand fanfare, no final words. A priest would simply shudder, their grip on the circle going slack, and then that silent, horrifying flash would consume them, pulling their essence into the crystal's core. Each disappearance was a subtraction from the world, a light going out that left the remaining ones colder, more alone.
Anette, the other Ascended who had stayed, was the last of the others. She was a woman of few words and fierce loyalty. A minute ago, she had simply let out a low, shuddering gasp, a sound of final surrender. There was no flash for her, not like the others. The Radiance was too weak now, its process less violent, more efficient. Her form simply… unravelled, dissolving into a stream of silver motes that were drawn into the crystal like dust into a vacuum. She was just gone.
Then there were three.
The ground gave another violent shudder, different from the controlled tremors of the Radiance's work. This was a jarring, sickening lurch. Above the constant hum, a new sound echoed down from the temple above—a distant, splintering crack, like ice over a frozen lake giving way. The Radiance dimmed another perceptible notch, its light growing softer, more desperate.
The barrier was failing. It was no longer a question of if, but of how many had already gotten through. I could feel it—a minute drain on the energy we were producing was now severed, a line cut. The power was no longer flowing to reinforce the shield. It was all being consumed just to maintain the Radiance's own unstable core. I knew, with a certainty that chilled my bones, that the first cracks had appeared. Smaller, faster creatures would be squeezing through even now, scuttling into the temple grounds above us.
Theron's eyes met mine across the dimming light. They were hollowed out, filled with a grief so profound it had passed beyond emotion into a simple, terrible fact of existence. Then he looked at Jeryl.
Jeryl understood. The big man had been a steady rock throughout, his simple faith an anchor in the chaos. Now, he looked from Theron to me, a sad, weary smile touching his cracked lips. There was no fear in his eyes, only a deep regret for a future he would never see. He gave me a look that was an apology and a farewell all at once. Then he turned to Theron and offered a slow, deliberate half-bow of utmost respect—a soldier acknowledging his commander for the final time.
He didn't wait for the Radiance to take the last dregs of him. He gave them freely.
With a final, grinding effort of will, Jeryl pushed. I felt it through our connection—not a trickle, but a torrent, a flash flood of everything he had left, every memory, every hope, every shred of his being, violently expelled and offered up. The Radiance, sensing the sudden surge, flared in response. This time, the consumption was not silent.
A soundless flash of silver-gold erupted around Jeryl, but from within him. For a split second, his body was a silhouette against the light, every vein and artery blazing like a network of lightning. Then he was gone, his entire existence incinerated in an instant, the energy sucked into the crystal with a pull that felt like the chamber itself gasped.
The silence he left behind was deafening.
Then there were two. Just me and Theron.