The screams ravaged his mind as he remembered. The civilians watching the imposing wall of darkness wash over the entire town. Running away, doing anything, trying to find any possible way, to survive. He couldn’t save them all. Despite all he tried, despite his explosive sparks lighting the night blindingly bright.
They almost all died.
He barely escaped with the people he could. Their terrified faces, the children, their horror permanently etched into his mind. They ran. The Rising Sun, his trusty galleon. Painted pitch black to blend in with the night. His crew, their faces gaunt and grave as they ferried the refugees of Palo Town away. He tried to smile for them, and they tried to smile back. But he could see the fear, their dying hope.
Apolo shook his head as he brushed away this forlorn memory. It was night, a jet black night with barely a star in the sky. The imposing shadow of Ravenna’s Mt. Caesar loomed overhead as they approached. The Rising Sun ironically blending in perfectly with the inky night, the galleon made it’s way to the Shining Plains. With a quiet command, he told the crew to make circles around the entire island, to wait for him on the other side.
He descended like a shadow into the grasslands. Wandering through the wilderness. The quiet hisses, the abominable clicks and clacks of dolphins. The smell of the Dark Sea he came to know very well even before the Atlantean Invasion.
He was a well travelled person, having been everywhere in the War Seas and foraying into the Dark Sea. He even awakened. Though that experience was something he never wanted to ever recall again. Gaining the title of “The Celestial Warrior” for his appearances in all situations. Fighting with the hope and determination of someone from the skies themselves. At least that’s what everyone told him.
Apolo’s mouth quirked at the ends in a ghost of the smile in the darkness of night. Grateful for the bit of humor he had left. And continued onward. Through the silent night, looking for the entrance to Mount Caesar, presumably locked away in the wilderness of the Shining Plains. A vast landscape of dry grasslands.
It was going well. He still had energy, his fatigue hadn’t caught up to him just yet. His golden eyes glimmered in the void as he continued forward.
Then it all went wrong.
A cacophony of screams and shouts tore through the oppressive atmosphere. Young, old alike, mashed and forcibly fused with the loud screeches and roars of the Atlanteans.
The Warrior’s eyes immediately snapped to life. As if waking up for the first time, glinting in the dark as his magical aura flared in preparation for battle. No hesitation, there was no time to hesitate even if he could. And he blazed forward. Carving a sharp path through the reedy grass. The screams turned into footsteps, footsteps he got closer and closer to-
A loud roar ripped through his ears from behind him as an Atlantean leapt out of the grasslands violently tumbling to his side. Apolo nearly fell over, stumbling harshly through the dirt and rolling to his feet. Finding himself flanked by two hulking abominations.
He growled. Eyes glinting in defiance and determination. A magic circle roared into his hand of ash. “I don’t have time for this. There are people I need to get to.”
“Ash Of the Wind and Sky” A plume of ash completely engulfed the area, rocketing straight into the air creating a suffocating smokescreen that scalded their skin.
The Atlanteans screeched in pain as the ash entered their eyes, their nostrils, if they had any. Apolo ran straight past them, his light footsteps blazing past. The growing panic in his mind as the screams became louder and more pained. He could hear their cries of pain as the stumbled everywhere, anywhere, as long as it was away from those monsters.
He continued onward, forging straight through and into the revolting scene. An expedition team of normal people and former Ravenna soldiers. Stumbling away from a horde of Atlanteans that was growing in size, trying to salvage any supplies they scavenged from the ruined towns. The soldiers desperately jabbed their worn swords and axes, swinging them with panicked fright.
Apolo jumped into action. Throwing his hand back in a violent motion as an Explosion Magic circle exploded to life in his palm. Running forward he took four gigantic steps into the air. Punctuated by thundering explosions throughout he slammed his hand into a poor Atlantean’s head. “Descending Dragon.” The explosive magic detonating instantly with a violent dragon’s roar. Ripping through the screams and sending the Atlanteans scattering, roaring and screeching from the light.
“Go!” he shouted to the expedition team, “Take your supplies! Run, NOW!”
He could see their faces light up in hope as he fought. Taking out his claws and slashing the very air itself. “Primal Swipe” His magic flared and he took a stance as the Atlanteans closed in on him. There was a slight fear gnawing at the back of his mind that he immediately shut down.
He took a stance akin to a pouncing tiger. And blurred as he dashed forward violently with all the strength he could muster to take these Atlanteans out right here. Blazing back and forth, slashing their necks, their hands, over and over again. His claws razing the floor, the air, their dreaded mutated eyes. Leaping into the air, dashing straight back down hitting the ground with a boom.
Over and over again, back and forth over the course of an instant. Thoughts leaving him, running on pure adrenaline and instinct. And with a final spiralling slash between the entire horde landing in front of them sliding across the grass and muttering. “Beast Instinct” before immediately launching into a sprint towards the expedition team farther ahead.
The Atlanteans fell behind him, some leapt forward angrily lobbing snow, plasma, fire at him. Others threw their daggers, sent air shockwaves of power. Apolo let out a shout for the expedition team ahead to watch out.
Fire to his left, plasma to his right, dagger almost in his arm. He weaved back and forth, exploding all over the place as he concentrated his aura to focus best he could. Back and forth, over and over. A massive fireball shot towards him. He stumbled forward then backwards as he turned around to face the massive projectile.
He lifted up his hand and ignited his magic. A gigantic explosion rang out as the magics clashed, further alerting the Atlanteans. Said explosion sent the Warrior flying backwards harshly. Tumbling in the grass, getting roughed up by the ground. But he grit his teeth anyway. Rolling to his feet he took a breather. Looking up, and realizing he had no time.
There was a horde.
A gigantic horde.
The expedition team looked on with horror as they got swarmed by what looked like a zombie invasion from those horror novels his sister had loved to read.
By all means, by any way possible, they must not find the entrance to the caves under Mount Caesar.
His teeth grit. His fists clenched as he gathered his power into his hands and legs.
In tandem with his magic, he blasted forward.
“Nuclear Burst”
Tumbling forward, struggling to stand as he blasted across the grass as quickly as he could towards the horde. He threw another hand downward. With a terrifying strength, ripping his hand up as if overturning the earth itself. And in the exact same moment, a magic circle roared to life in the midst of the Atlanteans.
“Heavenly Fury”
The nuclear shockwave of magical energy sent the Atlanteans tumbling away, backwards, some blocked. Others were sent flying as they were weaker, less mutated. Back then he would’ve hesitated. The weaker ones weren’t as mutated. Which meant they still had humanity…right?
Well now that didn’t matter anymore…
“I’ll hold the line! Get to the stronghold. NOW!” he commanded. And blazed forward into the mob. His fatigue finally catching up to him.
he ignored this.
The expedition team watched as swaths of explosions rang out in the silent night. Over and over without end. Ash clouds flew high into the air, blood so slick on the grass you could slip in it.
Apolo was in a frenzy. Ripping through their ranks with the strength that many thought was from the heavens. But was only a result of his determination and always left him debilitated in the end. Ripping, tearing, explosions rang out in his ears, his magic energy dissolving. Rocketing dangerously low as it continued. He slashed, he slammed with his staff. Clawed with his hands. Shockwaves, everywhere…
Three hours. It didn’t end for three entire hours.
He fell down in exhaustion amidst a gigantic circle of death. An Atlantean loomed over him, not dead, not yet. Apolo stabbed the Lesser Atlantean in the neck with his spare dagger and fell back again. Stumbling, over and over. To his feet. Again, and again. He had to make it to the entrance.
And he did.
…
Before promptly collapsing for the last time that night due to exhaustion.
“We have to help him.”