Chapter 12: The Rift Uncovered

The Imperius sailed under a sky heavy with gray clouds, the air thick with the promise of snow. Marcus Domitus stood at the bow, gripping the cold iron rail as his thoughts churned. The encounter with Cassius had left him uneasy, and the traitor’s words haunted him like the chill that bit into his skin.

“Rome is already dead.”

But Cassius had said more than that—he had hinted at something buried deeper than mere betrayal. Something Marcus couldn’t ignore.

Gaius Varro appeared at his side, his expression serious for once. “He’s been locked down tight. I posted two men outside the brig just in case he tries anything.”

Marcus gave a nod but didn’t look away from the horizon. “He knew something, Gaius. Something more than what he admitted.”

"You really think he’s more than just a traitor?" Gaius asked, raising an eyebrow. “We’ve seen plenty of those.”

“This feels different,” Marcus muttered. "There’s something bigger at play."

Seneca joined them on the deck, carrying one of his modified scanning devices. “We’re getting closer to the anomaly,” he said, adjusting a few brass dials. “It’s unlike anything we’ve encountered—stronger than the obelisk readings. Whatever’s down there isn’t just old. It’s active.”

Marcus turned, his brow furrowed. "How much farther?"

Seneca gestured toward the jagged cliffs below. "We’re almost above it. I can’t tell exactly what we’ll find, but... it’s deep underground. And it’s powerful."

"Sounds like a fun place to visit," Gaius muttered dryly.

Marcus shot him a glance. "We won’t know until we see it for ourselves. Get the men ready. We’re going down."

The Imperius hovered above a craggy valley, its sails folding inward as the engines hummed softly. Ropes were lowered, and Marcus led a small team down the side of the cliff, boots scraping against slick rock. The wind howled through the gorge, carrying with it the distant call of crows.

"Stay close," Marcus ordered, his voice barely audible over the gusts. "This isn't a place to get separated."

Gaius chuckled, though there was no humor in it. "I think I liked it better when we were just chasing rebels."

"At least you knew where they were," Marcus replied.

They reached the valley floor, where a narrow opening gaped at the base of the cliff—a cavern entrance, half-buried under centuries of snow and debris. Seneca knelt near the entrance, his scanner clicking rapidly. "This is it. Whatever we’re looking for... it’s down there."

Marcus drew his sword, the blade gleaming faintly in the dim light. "Then we don’t waste time. Let’s move."

The cavern sloped steeply downward, its walls slick with ice and ancient stone. The further they ventured, the colder it became. Their breath turned to mist, and their footsteps echoed eerily through the narrow passage.

Seneca’s device beeped faster as they descended, the readings spiking with every step. "This is no natural formation," he murmured, glancing at the strange carvings that lined the walls. "Someone built this a long time ago. And whatever they were hiding... they didn’t want it found."

Marcus ran his hand along one of the carvings, feeling the smooth, precise grooves beneath his fingertips. "Any idea what these symbols mean?"

Seneca shook his head. "They’re older than anything I’ve studied. But the energy readings—" He paused, frowning. "It’s almost as if they’re... waking up."

Marcus exchanged a glance with Gaius, his unease deepening. "Then we need to be careful. Whatever’s down here, it might not be friendly."

They reached the end of the passage, where the cavern opened into a vast chamber. In the center stood a strange structure—an immense, jagged rift carved into the rock, glowing faintly with an unsettling blue light.

Seneca’s device went wild, the clicking becoming a rapid staccato. "This... this isn’t just a power source," he whispered. "It’s a gateway."

Marcus stepped closer, narrowing his eyes at the strange rift. "A gateway to what?"

"That," Seneca murmured, "is what worries me."

As Marcus examined the rift, the faint hum of eterium energy filled the chamber, vibrating through the stone beneath his feet. The closer he got, the stronger the sensation became—a strange, dizzying pull, as though the rift was trying to draw him in.

"We need to seal it," Marcus said, his voice low. "Whatever this is... it can’t stay open."

Before Seneca could respond, a cold gust of air swept through the chamber, extinguishing their torches. The faint glow of the rift cast long shadows on the walls as a new figure stepped into the chamber—tall, cloaked, and draped in the black armor of the Iron Wolves.

Marcus’s sword was in his hand in an instant, his muscles tense. "You’ve been following us," he said quietly. "Why?"

The figure didn’t respond. Instead, it raised a hand, and the air around them shimmered with energy. The ground trembled as the rift pulsed, sending waves of power through the cavern.

"Get back!" Marcus shouted, pulling Gaius and Seneca away from the rift just as the energy surged. The blast knocked them off their feet, sending them sprawling across the stone floor.

The Iron Wolf advanced slowly, his eyes glowing with the same eerie blue light as the rift. Marcus scrambled to his feet, raising his sword. "Whatever you’re after," he growled, "you won’t find it here."

The armored figure tilted its head, as if amused. "You already found it for us," it whispered, its voice cold and hollow. "And now... it belongs to us."

The ground beneath them shook violently as the rift widened, cracks spreading through the walls of the chamber. Seneca struggled to his feet, grabbing his scanner. "We need to leave—now!"

Marcus didn’t hesitate. "Gaius, cover our exit!"

The two men fought their way toward the cavern entrance, dodging falling debris as the ground crumbled beneath them. The Iron Wolf pursued them, moving with unnatural speed, but Gaius blocked its path, his sword flashing in the dim light.

"Go!" Gaius shouted over his shoulder. "I’ll hold him off!"

Marcus hesitated for only a moment before grabbing Seneca and dragging him toward the exit. The chamber collapsed around them, stones falling like rain as the rift pulsed wildly, threatening to consume everything in its path.

They burst from the cavern just as the entrance caved in behind them, a cloud of dust and rubble billowing into the frigid air. Marcus and Seneca collapsed onto the snow, gasping for breath.

"Did... did Gaius make it?" Seneca asked between ragged breaths.

Marcus stared at the collapsed entrance, his heart heavy. "I don’t know."

The silence that followed was deafening. Marcus rose slowly, his gaze lingering on the blocked entrance. "We’ll come back for him," he murmured, though the words felt hollow.

Seneca stood beside him, his face pale. "What was that thing?"

"I don’t know," Marcus admitted. "But whatever it was... it’s not over."

As the wind howled through the valley, Marcus knew one thing for certain: the rift was just the beginning. And whatever lay beyond it had already begun to stir.