Apocalypse Baby

But before he could reach her, Baranga's flaming claws ignited, the inferno engulfing Micah in an instant.

WHOOSH!

The fire roared to life, and Micah's screams pierced the air.

"Aaaargh!"

His body writhed in agony, the flames consuming him mercilessly. His flailing arms reached out as if searching for salvation, but there was none to be found.

Micah stumbled erratically, flames licking at his body as he flailed, trying to catch Freya. His movements were wild and desperate, but Freya managed to dodge, narrowly avoiding his grasp each time.

He lunged once more, but his strength was failing. The fire was relentless, consuming him from the outside in.

Freya watched, her heart pounding as he missed her entirely. She pressed her injured leg into the dirt, gritting her teeth against the pain.

Micah's screams began to fade, replaced by the crackling of flames. After a few agonizing seconds, he collapsed to the ground, unmoving. The fire continued to burn for a moment longer before it finally extinguished, leaving behind only ash and silence.
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Micah was dead.

And now, there were three.

Two in the lead.

Freya, injured and barely holding on, trailed behind.

"Yikes," Dorion muttered, his voice low and uneasy. He shook his head at the grim sight, but he didn't linger. Without hesitation, he took another step forward, inching closer to the finish line.

Ezekiel, who had been standing beside him, froze. The weight of the moment had left him stunned, and by the time he realized he should have moved too, it was already too late.

His jaw clenched, and he grit his teeth in frustration.

What happened to keeping your gaze forward, Ezekiel? he chastised himself internally, his fists tightening.

Baranga's attention shifted between the two of them, its smoldering eyes unblinking and predatory. The beast loomed over them, radiating an overwhelming pressure.

Neither Dorion nor Ezekiel dared to move now. The tension was unbearable, the silence so thick it felt like it could crush them.

Dorion's eyes darted toward the finish line, just within reach. Sweat poured down his face as his frustration mounted. He was so close, but the monstrous presence of Baranga kept him frozen in place.

Ezekiel, too, was rooted to the spot, his breath coming in shallow bursts.

The two of them remained under Baranga's watchful gaze, unable to act.

Behind them, Freya gritted her teeth, her leg still throbbing in pain.

She knew she was supposed to move to ease the pressure off the two ahead of her, but she couldn't, or rather wouldn't.

How could she? When she'd only be aiding the two ahead.

Becoming a sacrificial pawn.

Dorion's voice rang out, cutting through the tense air like a blade.

"Hey, Freya! Gotta admit, watching you take down that damned priest was impressive, but if you want to survive, you'd better start moving again."

Freya clenched her fists, her eyes narrowing at his audacity.

"Shut up!" she snapped, her voice dripping with venom.

Dorion smirked, ignoring her anger. "Come on, you just need to catch its attention two more times, then I'm out of here. Easy, right?"

"I said, shut your mouth!" Freya spat. Her fury burned hotter than her pain, and her glare was sharp enough to cut. "You're a shameless bastard! You just want to use me as bait to escape. I'd rather see us all die than let you make it out alive!"

Dorion raised an eyebrow, his smirk fading slightly. "You hate me that much?"

"Stop it, Dorion!" Ezekiel interrupted his voice firm and commanding.

Dorion turned to him, rolling his eyes:

"Don't start acting like some goody-two-shoes now, Ezekiel. Some leader you are. You've been moving ahead this whole time, staying in the lead while knowing full well your allies were going to be sacrificed. So don't lecture me about doing what it takes to survive."

Ezekiel's jaw tightened, but he kept his gaze forward.

"I'm only one man, kid. At this point, the best thing I can do is keep moving forward."

Dorian's frown deepened, frustration clear in his voice.

"I'm going to pretend that makes sense, but still, man. There has to be a sacrifice, Ezekiel. And since she's one behind, it's only fair she be the one."

Ezekiel didn't even look at him, his tone calm yet resolute.

"Well, she has to be the one to make that choice. And you talking about it isn't exactly helping."

Freya, stuck in her awkward position with one leg stretched out behind her, felt the weight of the situation sinking in.

She knew she was screwed—there was no way out.

Her body trembled, each second feeling like an eternity.

But she couldn't afford to move.

Shifting into a more comfortable position would only draw Baranga's attention, giving Ezekiel and Dorian the chance to advance even further.

She clenched her teeth, feeling the tremors in her legs. It was only a matter of time before her body betrayed her, and she fell.

With no other choice, she made a split-second decision. Lowering her leg swiftly, she slid into a sitting posture, hoping to stabilize herself.

As soon as her position changed, Baranga's gaze snapped toward her, its three eyes locking onto her with a chilling intensity. Freya's heart skipped a beat.

But before the beast could react further, Ezekiel made his move, dashing ahead, forcing Baranga's attention to split between the two of them.

"Dammit!" Dorian cursed under his breath.

He had missed his chance, and now things were even more complicated.

Freya, still sitting, didn't waste a second.

She summoned a bottle of healing potion—the one she'd bought from the skeleton vendor on the first day of the trial.

It was a risk, but she had no choice.

With a swift motion, she stood up, uncorked the bottle, and poured the contents into her mouth.

The cool liquid slid down her throat, offering a brief but much-needed relief.

But Baranga's gaze snapped towards her, staring intently as she held the potion bottle in her mouth, trying not to make any sudden movements.

She dared not move, not even an inch.