Maverick’s heart hammered as the aftermath of the notebook’s proclamation reverberated through the basement. The golden light faded, leaving motes of radiance drifting in the air. Everyone seemed to breathe at once, a collective gasp of awe—and fear.
The newcomers fanned out, their armor whispering against itself. The green-armored man’s gaze was watchful, almost wary; the earth-toned armored man was broader, hands flexing at his sides, ready for anything. The golden-armored woman moved closer to the portal, her chin held high, as if daring anyone to challenge her authority.
Reverend Lee stood transfixed, bathed in the final shimmer of blue light, her face shining with something like faith. Liz touched her shoulder gently, grounding her, and murmured low words that only she could hear. James stepped forward, his voice steady now, every trace of uncertainty gone. “If the notebook is right, we are no longer alone in this fight.”
As if in answer, the inky portal behind the armored trio roiled. For a breathless moment, nothing happened. Then a shadow twisted in the darkness—something unseen, but felt, like a cold wind crawling along Maverick’s spine. The golden-armored woman snapped her attention to the portal. “We weren’t followed,” she insisted, but her voice trembled ever so slightly.
Maverick’s grip tightened on the notebook. Warmth pulsed from its cover, a steady source of courage. Don’t falter now.
The shadow in the portal grew more distinct. A shape coalesced—too thin, too tall, its limbs bending at unnatural angles. A low, guttural scraping echoed off the stone walls as it stepped from the darkness, every movement wrong. Its face was a shifting smear, eyes like pits of tar. Behind it, the portal snapped shut, cutting the basement off from the world above.
James raised a hand, palm outward. “Stand firm. It’s only one.”
The earth-armored man shook his head, voice low and grim: “One is enough.”
Liz’s eyes flashed with blue light. She drew a sword of shimmering air. The green-armored man pulled a staff, its tip alive with emerald flame. The gold-armored woman positioned herself in front of the others, her armor blazing brighter.
Maverick felt the armor beneath his clothes stir, heat blooming along his arms and chest. The notebook’s voice whispered again inside his head, urging him to act. The shadow-thing cocked its head, as if sizing each of them up. A moment of terrible silence thickened, each side poised on the knife’s edge between fear and fury.
He could see the armor of those beside him radiating their own unique power, each color singing its own note in a symphony of light. Reverend Lee took her place at his side, her features resolute.
The shadow advanced, spreading its arms wide—preparing to strike.
With every instinct screaming, Maverick stepped forward, the notebook’s glow swelling, its weight suddenly immense in his hands. The world shrank to a breath, a beat, a single, electrifying moment before the storm.
A decision had to be made—now.