Fragments of Oblivion: Lost Memories

The roar split the air, primal and unrelenting. It wasn't just sound—it was pressure, a tangible force that made the ground tremble and Elias's chest tighten.

He glanced at Darius, whose posture was unnervingly calm. The older man stood motionless, his eyes fixed on the horizon where the massive shadow loomed, its form twisting like smoke caught in a gale.

"What is that?" Elias asked, his voice hoarse.

Darius didn't look at him. "That," he said quietly, "is something you're not ready for."

"That's not vague at all," Elias muttered, his pulse racing. "So what's the plan?"

"The plan," Darius said, finally turning to him, "is for you to run."

Elias froze. "Run? You can't be serious."

"Do I look like I'm joking?" Darius snapped, his tone sharp enough to cut. "You don't have the tools or the knowledge to face something like that. And if you try, you'll end up dead—or worse."

Elias's jaw tightened. "I didn't come here to run."

"You came here because you don't know what you're doing," Darius shot back, stepping closer. His gaze was hard, unyielding. "This isn't the part where you play hero, kid. This is the part where you survive long enough to learn how not to die."

The creature roared again, the ground beneath them fracturing as its massive form moved closer. Elias clenched his fists, the weight of the device in his hand grounding him.

"And what about you?" he asked, his voice low. "You're just going to stay and fight that thing alone?"

Darius smirked faintly. "Someone has to buy time. Might as well be me."

"You're crazy," Elias said, his frustration boiling over. "You can't just—"

"I can, and I will," Darius interrupted, his tone cold. "Because unlike you, I know what I'm doing. Now stop wasting time and go."

Elias stared at him, his mind a storm of conflicting thoughts. He barely knew this man, and yet something in Darius's voice—something in the way he stood, unshaken and resolute—made it impossible to argue.

"I don't like this," Elias muttered, taking a hesitant step back.

"You don't have to like it," Darius said, turning away. His voice softened slightly. "You just have to live through it."

Elias hesitated. Eventually, he turned and ran, the jagged ground shifting beneath his feet with each step. The roar of the creature echoed behind him, its sheer weight shaking the world as it pursued.

The landscape blurred around him, the fractured towers and glowing pools blending into a chaotic haze. The device in his hand pulsed faintly, its rhythm erratic, as though it, too, was struggling to keep up.

"You're going to regret this," he muttered to himself.

Back at the edge of the horizon, Darius stood unmoving, his eyes fixed on the approaching shadow. His hand hovered near his side, faint tendrils of mana swirling around his fingertips.

The creature roared again, its form solidifying into something more defined. It was massive, its body a twisted amalgamation of stone and light, its limbs jagged and sharp. Its eyes burned with the same eerie glow as the fracture, filled with an intelligence that was both alien and ancient.

"Big and ugly," Darius muttered, his smirk returning. "Should've guessed."

The creature lunged, and Darius moved.

He stepped forward with trained precision, his hand snapping out in a sharp motion. The mana around him condensed into a blade of light, slicing through the air with a hum that cut through the roar.

The creature recoiled, its movements jerky and unnatural. It swung a massive limb toward him, the impact sending a shockwave through the ground, but Darius sidestepped with ease, his blade carving a clean arc through its jagged arm.

"This is all you have to offer," he said, his voice calm.

The creature roared again, its fractured form shifting as it adapted to his attacks. Darius's smirk faded, replaced by a cold determination.

"Good," he muttered. "Let's see how long you can keep up."

Elias slowed as he reached a ridge overlooking the landscape. He turned, his chest heaving, and saw Darius standing alone against the towering creature. The older man moved with practiced efficiency, each strike precise, each motion calculated.

But even from this distance, Elias could see the toll it was taking. The glow around Darius's blade flickered with each swing, and his movements, while sharp, were growing slower.

"He's not going to make it," Elias whispered, the words like lead in his mouth.

The device in his hand pulsed again, stronger this time, as if responding to his thoughts. He looked down at it, his mind racing.

It's a key. A beacon. A weapon.

He didn't know how to use it—not really—but if he didn't do something, Darius was going to die.

The whispers from the fracture echoed in his mind, faint but insistent. "Draw from it. Let it guide you."

Elias closed his eyes, tightening his grip around the device.

The air around Elias shifted, the pressure building as he focused on the device. He could feel it drawing from him, pulling at the edges of his mind, but he didn't stop.

"Don't break," he whispered to himself. "Not now."

The device flared to life, its glow brighter than before, and the whispers grew louder, filling his mind with fragments of memories he didn't recognize.

Then the ground beneath him cracked, and the world around him seemed to fold in on itself.

When he opened his eyes, he was no longer on the ridge.

He was standing beside Darius.

The older man glanced at him, his expression a mixture of shock and irritation. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Elias raised the device, its light casting long shadows across the fractured ground. "Buying you time."

Darius stared at him for a moment, then let out a sharp laugh. "You're insane."

"Probably," Elias said, his voice steady.

The creature roared, its massive form bearing down on them, and the ground trembled beneath their feet.

Elias took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto the approaching shadow. "Tell me what to do."