Apocalypse: The Dead Lives
Chapter 48: Aetheris And Umbraflame

Chapter 48: Aetheris And Umbraflame

I woke up gasping.

The world around me was wrong.

Dark clouds churned above in a stormy sky, fractured by veins of violet lightning.

The air buzzed with an unnatural energy, making the hair on my arms stand up. The ground beneath me was rough, not quite earth, not quite stone- just an endless expanse of swirling grey and black, shifting under my weight as if it were alive.

I wasn’t alone.

A groan sounded from my left, and I turned to see Marco pushing himself up, rubbing his jaw where I’d punched him before... before-

Before we were struck by lightning.

Shit.

"What the hell," Marco muttered, blinking hard, his body tense as he scanned our surroundings. "Where are we?"

I clenched my fists, anger boiling inside of me. Out of all the people I could’ve been stuck with, why did it have to be him?

We literally almost killed each other five seconds ago. What the hell was he doing with Hailey-Jade? I bet he never stopped following her, never stopped obsessing over her-

"No idea," I admitted, my voice sounding rough. "But this isn’t Earth."

I glared over at him and decided that for now, we would have to stick together. Since we’re the only ones here.

Marco gave a bitter chuckle. "No shit."

We stood in silence, both assessing the emptiness stretching out in front of us. There were no buildings, no landmarks- nothing but the storm above us and the endless void beneath our feet.

Then, the air shifted.

A figure emerged from the swirling darkness ahead.

At first, I thought it was another trick of this place- just more of the storm, taking shape. But as he came closer, I realized how real he was. And how inhuman.

He was tall, unnaturally so, his form draped in black robes that shimmered like they were woven from the night itself.

His skin was smooth, dark as obsidian, and his features were striking. He had high cheekbones, a sharp jawline, and eyes that glowed with cold silver light. His long black hair billowed, despite the absence of wind. But the most terrifying thing?

The wings.

Great, sweeping wings stretched from his back, not feathered, but made of crackling lightning, shifting between gold and violet with every flicker.

I swallowed hard. Every instinct in me screamed to be on guard.

Marco, to his credit, was just as tense. "You seeing this?" he muttered.

"Yeah."

The angel stopped before us, gazing down with an expression I couldn’t read. Then, he spoke.

"You are the ones I have chosen." His voice was deep and rich, and it carried a power that seemed to shake the air itself.

Marco and I exchanged looks.

"The hell does that mean?" I asked, wary.

The angel smiled, but there was something almost cruel in it.

"You are no longer mere men, Ronan and Marco. You have been marked by the heavens."

"Marked?" Marco echoed. "For what?"

The angel stepped forward, raising a hand. In an instant, energy surged around us, wrapping our bodies in searing light.

Pain exploded through my veins burning, stretching, like something ancient was being carved into my very soul. I clenched my teeth, refusing to scream.

Then, as suddenly as it came, the pain vanished. I stumbled, breathing hard, feeling... different.

Stronger.

Marco looked at me, eyes wide, and I knew he felt it too.

The angel lowered his hand. "You now wield the gifts of the divine."

I flexed my fingers, watching as faint streaks of violet energy flickered at my fingertips before disappearing. Marco did the same, his hands glowing golden.

I looked up at the angel, my chest tightening. "Who the hell are you?"

He regarded me with amusement. "I am Orion. The Light of the Heavens."

I exhaled sharply, trying to process. "And what exactly are we supposed to do with this ’gift’ of yours?"

Orion’s silver eyes gleamed. "You will wield it in the war to come."

Marco scoffed. "Yeah? And what if we say no?"

Orion’s smile didn’t falter. But the air around us darkened, a low rumble of thunder shaking the very fabric of this place.

"There is no ’no,’" Orion said smoothly. "You were chosen. You will fight."

A chill ran down my spine. This wasn’t an offer. It was a decree.

"And if we refuse?" I pushed, watching him carefully.

Orion tilted his head. "Then your power will consume you. The gift you have been given requires obedience. Overuse it, act against my will... and you will know suffering, unlike any mortal."

His voice was calm, but the threat in it was undeniable.

I swallowed. "So we’re supposed to just trust you?"

Orion laughed softly. "Trust is earned. And so is power."

Marco crossed his arms, still glaring. "What exactly can we do with these powers?"

Orion gestured toward us both. "Ronan, you wield the gift of Aetheris, the energy of the storm. You command the skies, the winds, the very lightning that struck you. In time, you will learn to bend it to your will."

I felt a strange pull in my chest at his words. Like the power was already waiting for me to call on it.

Orion then turned to Marco. "And you, Marco, wield Umbraflame, the fire of the void.

Destruction and rebirth, shadow and light. You will learn what it means to burn."

Marco’s smirk returned, but I could see the uncertainty beneath it. "Sounds fun."

Orion’s gaze darkened. "It will not be."

A tense silence stretched between us.

Finally, I exhaled sharply. "And now what? What happens next?"

Orion spread his arms. "Now, you return to your world. But heed my words, use your gifts wisely. I will be watching."

Before we could react, Orion lifted his hand- and the world shattered.

A bolt of golden lightning crashed between us, blinding everything in its path. The last thing I saw was Orion’s silver eyes, gleaming like stars in the abyss.

Then, nothing.

Only the storm.

Only the two of us lying in the eye of the storm.