Suffer Not The Radiant

Chapter 41: Up Above

'The Outcome Justifies The Deed.'

Moto of the Vindicare Temple

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The two operatives stood shoulder to shoulder, their gazes fixed upon the lifeless bodies of the vanquished cultists strewn about the chamber. The walls, reminiscent of the archaic settings portrayed in European fantasy television shows, held their rapt attention. Their curiosity was piqued by the presence of this ancient structure in the heart of Southeast Asia—a place where it seemed wholly out of place. The dilapidated walls, marred by cracks, cobwebs, and gnarled veins, bore witness to neglect and the passage of time. It appeared more akin to an archaeological site than a haven for radiant cultists.

A pair of pitch-black doors loomed nearby, shrouded in silence that gave rise to unsettling thoughts. The operatives pondered the notion of splitting up, but their collective experiences gleaned from countless films warned against such recklessness. The perils that lay in wait within these unhallowed halls necessitated their unity. Thus, they opted for the closest door, reassuring themselves that they could retrace their steps should the need arise, back into the safety of the tunnel.

They pressed forward, each footfall resonating through the stillness despite their concerted efforts to tread lightly. The echoes of their own breaths and heartbeats seemed magnified in the oppressive gloom. Their weapons remained poised, with Phoenix leading the way, his very being suffused with an ethereal radiance that cast a warm, fiery glow upon the passageways.

"It's hella dark here" Jett remarked, her voice betraying a touch of incredulity. "How on earth do these people walk around?"

Maybe they got special powers from their cult" Phoenix replied matter-of-factly, as if the answer were self-evident.

Jett cast a dubious glance in his direction, even as they continued their cautious advance. No adversaries appeared, nor did any sounds assail their ears, until they finally reached an impasse—an enormous door of unfathomable thickness, hewn from stone and ensnared by vines and cobwebs. Each discovery regarding the cultists' abode only served to deepen the enigma of how such a structure came to reside in Southeast Asia instead of the familiar realms of Europe.

"We'll stop here." Jett declared, her voice barely above a whisper, while Phoenix remained transfixed by the door. "Let's return back to the tunnel and inform the others, it's been several hours now. They're probably looking for us. We're also gonna need some backup for all of this."

"I'm not even gonna question that," Phoenix retorted bluntly. With that, they both pivoted on their heels, steadfastly clutching their weapons.

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Breach and Sova stood on the precipice of the tunnel, where echoes of detonations resounded, casting a macabre dance of fiery orange upon the horizon as vehicles succumbed to merciless flames. Contemplation wavered within them, grappling with the dire prospect of advancing into the unknown void, bereft of reinforcements. Nevertheless, an unyielding sense of duty as guardians of the protocol forged an indomitable resolve within their hearts.

"There's a slight chance that we might die" Breach quipped, the acerbic edge of irony lacing his words, his mechanical appendages extending with an uncanny imitation of organic sinew.

Sova, unflinching, retorted, "Not when we have intelligence."

Delving into the recesses of his mind, Sova plucked an arrow from the quiver, forged within the dominions of Kingdom. Embedded within its very core lay sensors endowed with the ability to unveil any trace of humanoid presence within an expansive radius. Fastening the arrow onto his bowstring, he tugged with measured force, exploiting the technological marvel that propelled his weapon's range far beyond the modest domain of commonplace handguns. Straining against the boundaries of possibility, his bow relinquished its grip with a resonant crack, a cerulean wake slicing through the shroud veiling the tunnel's innards.