The blinding flash of pure light sears my eyes, washing the monumental hall in absolute white. I blink rapidly, fighting the spots dancing in my vision, but my ears don't need time to adjust. I recognize that terrifying, atmospheric tear instantly.
The pneumatic hiss. The magnetic clack. The supersonic shriek of a projectile breaking the sound barrier.
Lola...
KRA-KOOM.
An explosion detonates near lantern number 7, close to where the thug is struggling. The shockwave rips across the dusty concrete, forcing me to throw my arms up to shield my face from the flying debris and the violent rush of hot wind.
What the hell did you do?
My stomach drops. If she shattered the lantern, we're done.
Lola, are you really that impatient?
The frantic, heavy ticking of the Gatekeeper's clock abruptly stops.
Above the massive exit door, the third red beacon clicks off, replaced by a solid, glowing green. Down on the floor, another miniature toy train breaks its endless loop and docks smoothly into the slot at the base of the mechanical throne.
At least she didn't miss.
I let out a ragged breath. The mechanic registers the kill.
But Thirstfall never hands out clean victories. As the thick, acrid smoke begins to clear around lantern 7, the collateral damage becomes painfully obvious.
Lola has absolutely pulverized the Shadow Shellcat. But she also clipped Oliver's partner.
The thug is lying on his back, completely unconscious, covered in soot and rubble. His legs are twisted at a grotesque, unnatural angle. He is groaning weakly, completely dazed, but his chest is rising and falling.
He's out of the fight, but breathing.
I snap my gaze to Lola.
She is standing by her lantern, holding the massive barrel of Lullaby. She catches me staring. Her shoulders slump. She lowers her head, pouting, and kicks a small pebble across the floor.
"Oops," she mumbles.
Across the room, Oliver breaks formation, his eyes wide with panic as he sees his man down.
"Hold your position!" I roar, my voice echoing off the vaulted ceiling. "Stay on your lantern, Oliver! He's alive, just a little… broken. If you move now, you'll kill us all!"
Oliver freezes, his knuckles white around the shaft of his warhammer, agonizing over the choice before reluctantly stepping back into place.
I can't leave the guy to bleed out, but I can't abandon the grid either. Lola is on my team; her collateral damage is my responsibility.
"Rhayne!" I call out. "Get over there and patch him up. I'll cover your lantern while you're busy."
As she sprints past my position, I reach into my inventory, pulling out one of the Accelerated Healing Potions I'd bought at the Academy. I toss the glass vial to her. She catches it flawlessly.
"Give him that," I order.
I quickly run the math. Three lights down. Five to go.
Up on the throne, the Gatekeeper's analog face begins to spin wildly again. The iron hand slams to a halt.
Number 3.
I let out a slow, cynical sigh of relief.
My lantern.
I wait patiently as the blue flame races clockwise around the perimeter. This is an easy task for me. The absolute second the light flares inside my glass housing, I tap it.
The concrete cracks. The dark, inky mana of the Shadow Shellcat begins to bubble up from the tiles.
I don't give it a chance to render.
I thumb the ignition ring on my hilt. Eventide hisses to life for a fraction of a second. I drive the condensed shadow-blade straight into the center of the forming creature's forehead.
It dissolves instantly, turning into harmless wisps of dark smoke before it can even let out a screech.
BEEEEEP.
The train whistle blows. A fourth green light ignites above the door.
Four out of four.
Let's just hope this pattern doesn't change.
With one man down, any shift in the mechanics is going to complicate this exponentially more.
We need to take care…
But the cycle continues. The clock spins again.
Number 1.
Oliver's lantern.
The older man is ready. The second the blue flame hits his post, he slaps the glass. The shadow beast erupts from the floor, lunging for him.
But Oliver doesn't panic. He's an old hand at this place.
He leverages his heavy warhammer, using the momentum of his hips to swing a brutal, sweeping blow. The iron head smashes into the beast's ribcage with a sickening crunch, pinning it against the stone floor.
He doesn't hesitate, bringing the hammer down a second time to shatter its core in a desperate, flawless execution.
Another whistle. Five green lights.
The clock spins again.
Number 4.
Rhayne's lantern.
I brace myself to cover for her, but she is already there. She has stabilized the thug and slipped back into position like a ghost.
The blue light flashes. She taps the glass.
As the Shadow Shellcat begins to materialize, lunging with its jaws snapping, Rhayne doesn't dodge or draw a weapon. She steps into the beast's guard. Her bare hand shoots out, grabbing the monster directly by the throat while it is still defenseless and forming.
The beast thrashes, but Rhayne's storm-cloud eyes darken. She concentrates her passive void skill to the absolute maximum. The air around her ripples as the monster's raw OXI is violently siphoned into her empty capacitor.
I watch the boss's clock. The thirty-second window is ticking down.
Ten seconds...
Twelve...
Fifteen…
The tension is suffocating. If she doesn't kill it in time, the spike launcher fires again, and I already know who it's aiming at.
But at exactly eighteen seconds, the shadow beast lets out a dry, hollow rattle. It simply withers into dry, gray ash, drained completely of its life force before the clock can even stop.
The train whistle blows. Six out of eight green lights.
We are almost there. Two more cycles.
Then, the entire room shudders.
Up on the throne, the Gatekeeper releases a massive, deafening hiss of pressurized gas from every joint in its armored body. The steam floods the center of the hall, obscuring the toy trains.
A loud, metallic CLANG echoes through the room.
Through the dispersing steam, I look up at the giant clock face.
My blood runs cold.
The Gatekeeper has just nailed a second iron hand directly onto its own face. There are now two hands on the dial—one large, one small.
My mind races, frantically trying to dissect the new pattern.
Two hands. Does that mean two lanterns will activate simultaneously? Does it mean the sequence speed is doubling?
I knew it…
A bitter taste flooding my mouth. Nothing in Thirstfall stays fair for long.