Cut Off by Light

Seren mutters something to herself; her voice is a mixture of exhaustion and determination:

"It doesn't matter, I just have to destroy it."

Instead of jumping down, Seren tightens the grip and charges up her Sword of Light again. The glow intensifies with each passing moment. Instead of leaping directly toward the infested heart, Seren plants her feet firmly on the unstable ground. 

Her golden aura flares, and she channels the energy of her Stigma into the sword. The light intensifies, illuminating the dark battlefield like a miniature sun. Sweat drips from her brow, stinging her eyes, but she doesn't falter.

She raises the Sword of Light high above her head, the glowing blade almost too bright to look at directly. With a deep breath, Seren brings the sword down in a powerful arc, aiming toward the massive, pulsating heart below. 

The air ripples with the force of her swing, and a brilliant blade of light erupts from the sword, flying downward like a divine comet.

The glowing blade strikes its target precisely, burying itself deep into the heart's corrupted surface. A thunderous explosion rocks the ground, sending a shockwave outward that shakes the surrounding trees and cracks the earth further. 

The light burns fiercely, devouring the corruption like a holy flame. As the smoke and debris begin to clear, Seren peers down into the newly formed chasm. Her eyes widen at the sight before her.

The heart is enormous, larger than she had anticipated. Once covered in a grotesque patchwork of sickly black and deep crimson veins, its surface now glows faintly with an otherworldly blue hue. 

The black veins have receded, burned away by her divine attack. The rhythmic pulsing beats slowly, creating a low, resonating sound that fills the air like a drumbeat.

'It's changed...' Seren thinks.

The heart seems almost purified, as though her light has cleansed it of its corruption. The blue glow is serene yet unsettling, its ethereal luminescence casting strange shadows around the fractured earth.

Seren's power quickly declines, the overwhelming energy that once surged through her body is now fading like a receding tide. The toll of her exertion becomes painfully clear. Her vision blurs, gray spots creeping into the edges of her sight, narrowing her focus to a shrinking tunnel. 

The once radiant golden aura that surrounded her flickers weakly before vanishing entirely, leaving her with an exposed and vulnerable feeling.

Her limbs grow heavy, trembling under the strain. The almighty strength she wielded moments ago has abandoned her, leaving behind a deep, aching fatigue that settles into her bones. 

Even the simple act of drawing breath feels like a monumental effort. Her chest heaves, each inhale shallow and labored. Her body screams for rest, but the battlefield offers no comfort.

The adrenaline that had carried her through the fight fades, and a torrent of emotions comes with it. Memories of the battle flash through her mind:

Robert's frantic shouts, Kiaran's defiant swing of his axe, Finn's helplessness as he knelt beside Ahri's lifeless body, Nico's final, desperate stand. Each moment replays with agonizing clarity, each memory a dagger twisting in her soul.

"I-I killed them, I killed them all..." her voice is full of horror.

Her knees buckle, and she collapses to the ground, her hands digging into the dirt as tears stream freely down her face. Her breath hitches, the enormity of her guilt threatening to suffocate her.

"They're dead because of me," she sobs, her body shaking uncontrollably.

Her mind spirals deeper into despair, the realization clawing at her heart.

'If I had used my power sooner… if I hadn't been so weak… if I—' Her thoughts are interrupted by the faint sound of footsteps.

Robert approaches his expression, a mixture of exhaustion and sorrow. His uniform is battered, his movements slow and deliberate, but he's alive. The sight of him should offer comfort, but it only sharpens the knife of her guilt.

"They trusted me…" Seren chokes out, her voice barely audible. She looks up at Robert, her tear-streaked face twisted in anguish. 

"They trusted me, and I failed them."

Robert kneels beside her, his own pain evident in his eyes. 

"Seren, it isn't your fault. We were all fighting for our lives. This… this is what war is."

Then, Seren's eyes widen, realization hitting her like a truck.

"Robert, what are you doing here? It's impossible that you've already returned. Quickly, we have to get to the Void Breach before it closes!"

Seren tries to rise with a burst of determination, but her body screams in protest, every muscle trembling with exhaustion. Robert gently places a firm hand on her shoulder, urging her back down.

"It's no use," he says, calm but laced with resignation. He adds:

"When I got there, the gate was already closed. Normally, even after the Guardian is slain, the Essence from the environment sustains the Void Breach for at least five minutes."

Seren's hands curl into fists, her nails biting into her palms as guilt crashes over her like a tidal wave. She forces the words past her dry lips:

"I… I'm sorry, Robert. I must have destroyed the roots connected to the Void Breach early on in the fight."

Robert looks at her, his gaze soft despite the grim situation. He tries to lighten the weight of her guilt, his voice tinged with a faint chuckle.

"Don't worry. I figured as much after I saw you light up the whole forest. It's not every day someone turns the battlefield into a damn sun."

Even in the direst moments, Robert's composure remains intact, a steady anchor in the storm. His calm demeanor washes over Seren, steadying her ragged breaths. The uncontrollable sobs wracking her body begin to subside.

"We'll find another Void Breach," Robert says firmly. "One that can get us back to Earth."

Seren nods slowly, but the weight of his words settles in her gut like a heavy stone. Finding another Void Breach is no simple task. Without an army-issued map, it's nothing more than a game of chance, one with stakes that result in death.

Her mind races through the horrifying possibilities. If they're lucky, death might come quickly. Emerging into a sealed Void Breach, crushed instantly by tons of concrete, would be merciful compared to some other fates.

The oceans are another likely outcome. Seren shudders at the thought. Abyssal waters are home to unspeakable horrors. The military's sensors frequently detect anomalous sound waves in the deep, signals of abominations too vast to comprehend. 

The largest one ever recorded suggests a creature larger than some small countries. Its movements alone alter ocean currents and cause seismic tremors.

And then there's the skies. A breach could open hundreds of meters above the ground. Even if the fall didn't kill them, city air defenses or energy shields would finish the job. They would face an equally grim fate in the wilderness if they landed far from civilization.

Seren exhales shakily, her shoulders slumping under the enormity of their predicament.

"Great…" she mutters bitterly, the word laced with despair.