All skittering, letting out a hollow, chittering sound that scraped across the soul like razors on glass.

The dark creatures charged toward the group with ferocious intent, their clawed limbs scraping the edges of the ancient stone bridge.

These weren't beasts in any conventional sense.

They were malformed, living shadows—remnants of something older, something left behind in the abyss.

They came in twisted, partial forms—like reflections half-formed in black water—emerging from beneath the bridge, from the air itself, and crawling up the sides like spiders out of nightmares.

The group tensed at the sight.

It had already been a brutal challenge just to stay ahead of the storm behind them—a sentient, ever-hungering cloud that swallowed anything it touched.

Now they were being ambushed from the sides.

"What the hell?" Korrum exclaimed, his eyes narrowing as he adjusted his grip on his axe.

"It's like this bridge doesn't want us to reach the Legacy Gate," Vayren said, his voice hoarse and bitter. Sharp green light pulsed faintly from the vines coiled beneath his skin.

Alex's frown deepened, tension knotting his jaw. His gaze bounced between the unnatural shadows slipping in from the sides and the demon who hadn't stopped stalking him like a slow-burning fuse. This wasn't a split-second decision. This was a war on attention—and one mistake would cost him everything.

The threat had just multiplied, and his attention was being pulled in opposite directions.

The shadow creatures weren't like anything he'd seen before. They didn't move like monsters or beasts—more like glitches in reality. Their forms shimmered and warped with every step, as though the bridge itself refused to anchor them fully into existence.

He realized something quickly: these things weren't here to kill them directly.

They were obstacles. Distractions. Like wolves nipping at the heels of a herd to force the weakest to fall behind.

That was the true danger.

If anyone lingered too long trying to fight, they'd be swallowed by the cloud. It wasn't about winning. It was about surviving—about staying fast enough to reach the end.

"Just run," Alex growled to himself, pushing harder, faster, trying to drown out the chaos with sheer momentum.

His muscles protested, lungs tightening, but he didn't care. If he slowed down, he was done. It was that simple.

Running was the only thing he could control right now.

Behind him, the cloud growled—a low, dreadful sound like thunder underwater—and surged faster, forcing the entire group to pick up speed again.

The air was thick with labored breathing and muttered curses—short, broken phrases of pain and disbelief.

Every player dug deep, summoning strength from places they didn't even know existed.

No one was fresh anymore. Everyone was running on fumes.

But the shadow creatures weren't relenting. More began appearing just ahead, crawling up from the edges of the bridge and blocking their path.

There was no avoiding them anymore.

One lunged at the monk, its body trailing tendrils of oily mist. Korrum's palm struck out, fluid and precise. The creature exploded into a burst of shimmering particles, like ash meeting sunlight.

Two others swarmed Vayren. He didn't stop running, just raised one hand—and thorned vines shot out from beneath his cloak, impaling both beasts mid-lunge.

Another shadow beast leapt toward Korrum. Without breaking stride, the Vorakan caught it mid-air by the neck and crushed it with a wet snap. The creature dissolved like smoke in wind.

Three shadows darted toward Adam. He barely moved. In a blur, his blade flashed—and the creatures split apart, their bodies cleaved cleanly in two before they could react.

Behind him, the anima skidded to the side and ducked behind Korrum, avoiding the fight altogether.

"Coward," Korrum hissed, glaring over his shoulder.

The demon still did nothing. He simply jogged forward, calm and quiet. Every shadow creature that dared come near him was incinerated before it could land a blow. They didn't even scream—just vanished into cinders.

Alex watched, quietly impressed.

The demon's flame control was disturbingly refined. Cleaner, even, than Malik's. Where Malik's fire roared and surged, the demon's burned with surgical precision.

Two shadow beasts came for Alex. He lifted his hand without stopping and unleashed **\\[Godhand]**. A surge of force slammed into the creatures, flinging them off the bridge like rag dolls.

He glanced back—just in time to see the dark cloud swallow them whole.

That confirmed it.

If the shadows didn't kill you, the storm would.

He turned his attention to Kaelen. The elf was in trouble—far behind the others now, face drenched in sweat, firing off spell after spell. Bright blasts of mana flared against the swarm, but he was barely holding them off.

Kaelen suddenly roared, summoning a gust of radiant energy that blew back a wave of shadow beasts. Several disintegrated, falling into pieces—but the storm was still behind him, growing closer every second.

"Dammit!" Kaelen shouted, desperation cracking his voice. "When is it going to END?!"

And then—

A sound.

A deep, resonating hum.

It came from ahead.

Everyone's heads snapped up.

The Legacy Gate—massive, monolithic, etched with glowing runes—was now shining with brilliant light. The symbols engraved into the stone pulsed with radiant energy, and a haunting, harmonic tone filled the air.

A beacon.

A call.

They all felt it.

A shift.

The end was near.

"It's calling us," someone whispered.

Whether it was literal or not didn't matter. The meaning was clear.

They were close.

The group surged forward, newfound adrenaline kicking in. Muscles screamed. Lungs burned. But none of them hesitated.

A wise choice—because a moment later, even more creatures emerged. A second wave poured from the sides, darker and faster than the first.

And behind them, the storm roared.

A deep, bestial sound shook the bridge. The cloud accelerated again, now so close that its edges licked at the stones behind Kaelen.

Alex clenched his jaw.

This was it.

The final stretch.

The last stand.

The endgame.

He threw a glance at the others, then at the gate glowing at the far end of the bridge.

No more hesitation.

No more pacing

They had to make...