Chapter 26: Shinya's Reckoning
The city of Shinya trembled beneath the weight of its own secrets. Smoke rose from the streets where the rebellion had flared, torches casting long shadows against the walls of the towering Holy Sanctuary. Moro's low, measured footsteps echoed as he approached the grand marble gates, his matrix humming faintly beneath his skin. The energy pulsed with his heartbeat, responding to the overwhelming presence of the Celtic High Council. Every whisper, every prayer uttered from deep within the Sanctuary reverberated through the streets like an invisible chain of oppression, but Moro felt it all unraveling with each step he took.
Above, in the main hall, the clash between Hanks and Hawks raged on. Colossum energy clashed against the unyielding shadows of the Advanced Agent, sending shockwaves that rattled the stone pillars and shattered stained glass. Hawks' serpentine shadows twisted and lunged, striking with deadly precision, but Hanks moved with a serene, calculated power, each strike deflecting and countering, forcing the agent backward. The floor beneath them cracked with every impact, chunks of stone raining down into the hall.
"You're stubborn, Hanks. Admirable, but foolish," Hawks hissed, his eyes glowing with the dark energy that fed his power. Shadows extended like living creatures, attempting to bind Hanks' limbs, to sap his energy, but the Saint of Wisdom pivoted, unleashing a flurry of strikes that sent the shadows recoiling. Each movement radiated authority; his aura, immense yet disciplined, resonated through the hall, shaking even the most resilient of stones.
Outside, Moro crouched atop a crumbling balcony, observing the chaos. Kaya and Herbet were moving through the shadows, guiding the insurgents past patrols and dismantling traps. The rebellion was no longer whispers in the streets—it was alive, striking at the heart of Shinya's oppression. Every step brought them closer to the inner sanctum, where the Celtic High Council awaited. Moro's matrix glowed brighter, reacting to the council's dark energy like a living compass, revealing hidden passages and safe paths through the Sanctuary's labyrinthine corridors.
"Keep moving. Watch the corners!" Moro's voice was calm but authoritative, carrying over the clamor of clashing steel and collapsing stone. Kaya nodded, her water energy shimmering faintly, ready to flood through any opposition. Her precision strikes disarmed guards, leaving them incapacitated yet alive—Moro's influence guiding her every movement. Herbet's bow was a blur of motion, arrows streaking through the air, cutting down those who would obstruct their path.
Hawks' cold laugh echoed through the hall. "You think you can control this? You're playing with forces you do not understand!" But Hanks did not respond. His focus remained absolute. Each strike from Hawks' shadow was met with the steady, unrelenting force of Colossum energy. The room shook as Hanks slammed a massive punch into the floor, sending a wave of energy outward that forced Hawks to retreat a step, his shadows dissipating into mist.
Meanwhile, within the inner chambers, the Council sensed the approaching danger. Whispers turned into commands, shadows twisting unnaturally, coiling around the grand pillars. Their dark energy pulsed in unison, a wave of intimidation that sought to suffocate the city itself. "The boy is near," one voice murmured, cold and emotionless. "He senses the threads of our power."
Moro paused at the entrance to the sanctum, feeling the oppressive aura pressing against him. His matrix responded instantly, surging with blue luminescence that lit the surrounding hall. His entire body glowed, energy crackling across his skin, as if the Sanctuary itself had awakened him. The rebellion's sounds—the clash of swords, the cries of freedom—fueled him, amplifying his power.
From behind, Herbet and Kaya secured the remaining insurgents. "We're in position," Kaya reported, her tone steady. "The Council is ahead."
Moro nodded, feeling the weight of responsibility settle over him. This was no longer just about finding his father; this was about liberating a city chained by fear, about unraveling centuries of control. His eyes, sharp and unwavering, pierced through the layers of the Sanctuary, reading the very energy that the Council used to dominate their people.
In the main hall, Hanks' final blow sent Hawks skidding backward, his shadow armor dissipating with a wail of frustration. "This isn't over," Hawks spat, retreating to a safer distance, his eyes burning with vengeance. "The Council will decide your fate!" Hanks didn't answer. Instead, he turned his gaze toward the distant doors where Moro would soon appear. A silent understanding passed between them—one of allies forged in the heat of battle, united by a common goal.
As Moro stepped through the final doorway, the Council's presence became almost tangible. They were seated in a semi-circle, their dark energy radiating in waves, creating a suffocating weight that threatened to crush the very will of anyone who dared oppose them. Shadows twisted unnaturally in the corners of the chamber, moving with a life of their own. Candles flickered, though no wind stirred them—the room itself seemed alive with their malevolent intent.
The first to speak was a woman of icy authority, her voice slicing through the silence. "So, the boy comes. Did you think we would not notice?" Her gaze was sharp, dissecting, measuring every ounce of Moro's strength.
Moro's matrix flared brighter, reacting to the council's combined aura. "I did not come to talk," he said evenly, his voice carrying an unshakable resolve. "I came to end your tyranny."
A ripple of dark energy surged across the room. The Council rose simultaneously, their presence expanding, suffocating, yet Moro felt no fear. Instead, he felt clarity. The rebellion, the insurgents, Hanks and Kaya—they were not alone. The energy of Shinya itself was responding, ready to break free from centuries of oppression.
Suddenly, the doors behind Moro burst open. Kaya and Herbet led the rebellion inside, their movements precise and coordinated. Arrows, spells, and energy strikes flowed like a storm, taking out guards and destabilizing the council's defenses. For the first time in centuries, the people of Shinya were witnessing their oppressors being challenged directly.
The Council recoiled slightly, surprised by the coordination and sheer audacity. Yet, their confidence remained. They were the rulers of darkness, manipulators of faith and energy. But Moro and his allies were different—united, resolute, and powered by purpose.
Hanks, seeing the rebellion join Moro, clenched his fists. "Do what you must," he muttered, turning to face the last of Hawks' retreating shadows. His Colossum energy surged once more, ready to protect the city from those who would manipulate it.
Moro stepped forward, every inch of him radiating power, the blue glow of the matrix cutting through the darkness like a blade. The Council's whispers became frantic, their control over the city weakening. The stage was set, the final confrontation imminent.
The chapter ended with a breathtaking view: Moro standing in the inner sanctum, rebellion growing behind him, matrix blazing, Hanks holding off Hawks, and the Celtic High Council looming before him, their faces a mixture of surprise and fury. The city of Shinya itself seemed to hold its breath, waiting for the reckoning that was about to unfold.
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