Mad Hatter's Guide to Clearing The Game
Chapter 218: Ch216. From black skies

Chapter 218: Ch216. From black skies

Mara sat at her station, hands hovering just above the workbench, but she wasn’t touching anything.

Her gaze was fixed on the small vial of the [Broodmother’s Ichor] that sat in front of her, its dark contents shifting like thick, oily blood. It had been days since she’d first seen it, and even still, something in her bones told her it wasn’t just an item.

It was a message, a warning, maybe even a trap.

The glow of the forge, warm and steady in the background, seemed to dim slightly as Mara narrowed her eyes, focusing more intently.

The ichor didn’t shimmer with the vibrant energy of most artifacts, nor did it hum with anything that felt magical. It was just there, organic, alive, maybe, in a way she didn’t fully understand.

She had turned the vial over in her hands for hours, running her fingers over the surface of the glass, but even now, after feeling it pulse with something she couldn’t explain, it was still dormant.

Unyielding.

Her thoughts, too, were in turmoil, bouncing between the events in the forest and the strange foreboding that had settled in her gut ever since.

That nagging wrongness hadn’t left her. But right now, the ichor seemed... Quieter, less hostile.

A soft exhale slipped past her lips. It almost felt like it was no longer the same thing that had watched her before, but that didn’t make any sense. Nothing made sense these days, and that alone kept her from relaxing.

The forge was eerily quiet, save for the gentle hum of the golem, who was busy somewhere in the background, probably moving supplies or sorting scraps. She was alone here now, left with the sensation that the world outside was too far away for her to hear properly.

But the ichor’s presence had become oddly muted.

Mara leaned forward, her brow furrowed. There was something strange about it now.

She watched as the swirling darkness inside the vial began to... Fade. The dark, viscous liquid no longer moved with its oppressive, ominous grace.

Instead, it appeared lighter, thinner. It almost looked like the vile, venomous ichor of a creature that had been long dead, drained of life and power.

Mara’s breath hitched, her hand instinctively moving toward it. She reached for the vial, her fingers tingling with the urge to touch it, but a strange sense of hesitation filled her chest.

The moment her fingers touched the glass, the ichor seemed to shudder, as if waking from a deep sleep. But unlike before, it felt like something... Hollow.

Her pulse quickened, it was no longer wrong.

The dark brilliance that had emanated from it was gone, what was left behind felt... Empty.

Her fingers closed around the vial, lifting it toward her eyes. She tilted her head, studying it, but the more she focused, the less she could discern.

The ichor was still there, but it had lost its vibrancy, its life. Mara’s gut clenched.

Did it have anything to do with Miles and his sudden radio silence when he found the strange ruins in the heart of the [Dark Forest]?

Suddenly, the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.

The rumble of distant thunder reverberated through the walls of the forge, followed by the crackling hum of the magic that powered the shop.

It was faint at first, like a shadow passing across the air, but the sound grew louder and more insistent.

Mara’s eyes flickered toward the window. Outside, the skies had turned a shade of gray so dark it could have been mistaken for night.

A thick wall of clouds rolled in, blotting out what little light there had been, the wind picked up, rattling the windows, sending the barest tremor through the walls of the forge.

The temperature in the room dropped, and for a moment, Mara almost thought she could feel a cold, metallic presence pressing down on the air. She shot to her feet, a sense of urgency rushing through her.

"What the hell was happening?" She didn’t wait to question it further, rushing toward the door and opening it, stepping outside.

The street outside was barely visible in the shadow that now blanketed everything. The air was thick with the scent of ozone, and the usual bustle of the city had all but ceased.

No voices, no sounds of machines or vendors haggling, just the oppressive stillness that accompanied a storm.

Only it wasn’t a storm like Mara had ever seen before.

The sun, which had just minutes ago been bright enough to pierce through the clouds, had disappeared as though it had never been there at all.

There was no transition, no slow darkening of the sky, just a sudden and unnatural shift from daylight to the thick darkness of night.

It was only a few seconds before her instincts kicked in, and she slammed the door shut behind her, retreating into the forge.

The moment the door clicked into place, a pulse of arcane energy washed over her, and she staggered back from the shock. Her vision blurred for a fraction of a second.

The air inside was thick with the static charge of magic, the arcane runes along the walls glowing brighter than they had ever before.

Her pulse thudded in her ears.

She was suddenly aware, of everything around her, of the very walls of the forge, of the ground beneath her feet.

It felt like she was no longer alone in the room, the shadows themselves seemed to stretch and writhe, as if they were reaching for her, pulling at her very essence.

Her breath caught in her throat.

Then, the voice came. Low, deep, it rattled through every bone in her body.

"The child is no longer enough to restore the balance which was lost. Beginning and End must converge towards the true source of the Story, and prevent the Old One from ever reaching its conduit."

Mara froze, her heart skipping a beat as the words seemed to echo in her skull.

The voice was familiar, she felt it in her chest, a reverberating pressure that matched the pulsing energy filling the room.

The shadows around her swirled violently, growing thicker, until they seemed to consume everything, even the edges of her vision. The forge itself seemed to tremble.

The air became thick, suffocating, as if she was drowning in it.

"They must converge towards the true source." The words repeated in her mind, over and over. "They must converge towards the true source."

It was as if the world itself was beginning to unravel.

The walls of the forge seemed to warp, the air growing denser and denser. It was then that she saw.

The world crumbling, cities falling to ruin, entire continents being swallowed whole by something dark, ancient.

She saw the sun flickering out like a dying ember, the oceans roiling and crashing against the shore as though in pain, the land split open, deep fissures yawning across the earth, swallowing entire forests and mountains, tearing everything apart as if it was all nothing more than dust in the wind.

And through it all, the voice.

"... And prevent the Old One from ever reaching its conduit."

But what was the source? And who was the child? Mara had a sinking feeling, a cold knot settling in her gut as she realized the voice wasn’t just addressing her. It was addressing something else.

Something else that was connected to her, to the others... To everything.

The forge around her was no longer a sanctuary.

The very air felt as though it were collapsing inward, folding over her. Her skin prickled with static, and her vision was filled with flashes of places she’d never been, people she’d never seen.

"You will need to be ready, my child..." The voice intoned, its deep timbre sending chills down her spine. "They must be kept from emerging..."

Mara gasped for air, the vision vanishing in an instant as the forge returned to its previous state. Still, silent, oppressive.

Her knees nearly buckled beneath her, but she steadied herself on the workbench, breathing deeply.

She was alone again, the forge was quiet, except for the hum of the golem in the background.

But the words still echoed in her mind.

"They must converge towards the true source, and prevent the Old One from reaching its conduit..."

And the words carried a feeling with them.

A feeling that, whatever they’ve been fighting against all this time, had already arrived.

They have already lost.