Cipher Code {complete}

Chapter Sixty: The Golden Gate Falls.

Dawn had never been in so much pain.

The freezing wind whipped her hair into disorder, whistling around her with ferocity. It cut into her, the force behind the attack already too much for her body to bear. It hadn't even hit her yet.

"Hezekiah!" She couldn't help but scream, subconsciously aware that she wouldn't be able to take a Colossi's blow if it landed.

She had just nearly completed her trap when one of the massive creatures rushed at her, breaking the encirclement around Hezekiah. It seemed to understand what she had been doing, because it was relentless in its charge, the other Colossi sacrificing their bodies to give it a chance to escape.

At that moment, Dawn realized that these creatures, the ones the Genet bred to fight, might not be as unintelligent as she once thought.

Shit.

Her pendant glowed furiously as the first thought she had was to use her arms to shield her vitals.

Power, she craved it more than ever as the giant ran towards her, its fist already drawn. The air around her hung heavy as though all its energy had been sucked into the attack that was aimed for her.

Then all at once everything exploded, the Colossi hadn't touched her but she knew she was already close to death. Her body screamed in agony, blood slipping out the corners of her eyes and dripping down her nose and ears.

The snow was stained red.

There was no visible cut on her body as Dawn was thrown back, away from the fist, but everything on the inside was broken.

"Hezekiah," she called out again, weakly this time, as she bounced against the snow like a pebble skidding against the surface a lake, and settled at spot metres from where she had once stood, limbs twisted at awkward angles and blood pooling around her.

Dawn couldn't move. She didn't think she was breathing or healing but she was still alive, somehow.

Her head had been tilted to the side, her neck probably broken. She could see the massively grotesque Colossi at the gate, looming over them like a god. It didn't need to move and yet she had failed.

Who could fight a beast like that? It certainly wasn't her.

Not me at all. Dawn wanted to laugh. She was just a scientist turned professor; an assassin at best. She wasn't raised to be a fighter.

She was raised to run, to lead other people and inspire them to fight. She was raised to be a coward, to deceive.

Oh, she missed the good old days when all she had to do was kill anyone in her father's way. The days before she had run off with Corey, scared and desperate. The days before she became the only one he could trust.

Slowly her vision got blurry, the featureless Colossi tilting and waving as she fought to keep her eyes open. Is it actually moving?

She felt a tremor in the earth and took that as a yes, trying to move her finger as though that single action would bring all the fighting to an end.

The beast was turning toward the capital, apparently bored with her and Hezekiah's desperate fight for survival.

The capital. .  . images of the ruined city flashed in Dawn's mind. Corey was in the capital, and so were most of the nation's brightest minds and elite forces.

If the beast went there, there would be no need for a minister anymore because North would be reduced to nothing.

Her fingers started to tingle, steam rising from her skin then immediately rushing back into her body. Finally, her body began to mend itself, cartilage to bone, muscle to sinew. Like a ragdoll fitted with a skeleton, Dawn's lifeless limbs snapped back into rigidity.

Power. The word echoed in her mind as her neck snapped back in place, her lung filling to the fullest when she suddenly had the ability to breathe again.

Dawn rolled over and coughed out the blood lodged in her throat, her arms quivering as her fingers sank into the snow. She couldn't feel the cold, but she could still smell the stench of death that hung around her.

She heaved and spat, unable to get rid of the suffocating feeling that clung to her. This was the closest she had been to the grave.

If not for the fact that her heart still held a steady beat she would have been convinced that she was an undead like the creatures written about in the 21st century.

"Dawn, are you alright?" In a moment Hezekiah was by her side, gently lifting her to feet as he examined her with a pleased expression.

Dawn looked up at him, tired and yet refreshed. "I'm fine." Her voice was cooler than she remembered, almost apathetic.

The Colossi that had charged at her had been ripped to shreds, its blood painting the snow a blueberry blue. Dawn smiled, thinking about how colorfully it would be to have the same done to the massive one by the gate.

"We should name that one." Hezekiah said, getting her attention back to him.

Dawn laughed, but at the same time it wasn't her laughing. "How about Hulk?"

"Perfect," Hezekiah smiled then turned to her, eyes bright and blue. "Are you ready, my love?"

Dawn smiled back and a voice that wasn't entirely hers replied, "always."

†

Corey found himself laughing as he gazed down on the remains of what used to be a proud city owned by proud people.

The Prime Lords and Nobles, what would they think about their precious city now, ruined to rubble and ashes? All the credits they had invested in an unbreachable stronghold, wasted.

Another laugh escaped the minister as he took in the destruction. The sun was searing and bright, the path of its rays no longer limited by the shield that covered the entire city.

The golden light almost blinded him, yet it ignited a heat on his skin that reminded him of a sojourn he once took in a desert. For the first time since all this started, he felt alive.

Corey had just made it out of the maze of tunnels that spun under the city. Observing the undamaged structures that were still intact underground, he held the hope that maybe none of the citizens had been harmed, early on evacuated before the fight above ground had escalated beyond control.

Then, the safety of the civilians put aside, he began to fear for his men. Men like Alexander Balfour and Gideon Wesley. Men that would rather die than surrender. . . men he doubted were alive.

It was obvious that they had been outnumbered and Corey hated himself for not being able to have fought by them.

He hated the fact that the Book of Revelation had stole most of his time, that silly squabbles with his father had prevented him from looking past the now.

But what could he have done?

Corey had tried his best to be the best. He had fought hard not to let history repeat itself yet here he was, in an empty city with a broken soul.

He lifted his hand up to shield his eyes from the glare of the sun, looking once again at the view in front of him. It shocked him how easily years of hard work could be destroyed in a single day. How one single event could shape the entire history of man.

It was inevitable, he supposed. The north had been destined to fall and there was nothing he could do about it, not now, not then.

All he was concerned with now was finding Dawn and telling her.  . . and telling her everything. He smiled to himself and yet the smile contained hints of self-ridicule. Anything else can come after that.

But just then, as he was about to start his search, the ground trembled and the skies shook. Corey stumbled from the force, turning his head toward what seemed to be the source of the explosion only to see the the faint silhouette of what could only be described as god standing by what should have been the golden gate of Auro.

What the. . .

Corey had looked back just in time to see the massive gate that represented the tranquility of the north crumble to dust.

†