161Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡaFM3MUcauGCHAPTER 9: THE CHAMBER OF LIGHT
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-METRO'S CHAMBER-
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Paul shoulders Metro through the doorway half guiding him, half carrying him.
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Metro's boots drag. His head hangs. His breath is shallow, still rattled from the blackout.
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Paul lowers him onto the bed with a grunt. Paul passes Sally staring at Metro from the doorway. The last traces of white flare, beam in her eyes with unblinking loyalty.
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Two farm hands linger against the bedroom wall, wide-eyed unsure if they should help or flee. Most of the farmhands head downstairs whispering.
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Footsteps approach Metro. Lilly looks down at Metro with no remorse.
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Lilly: (sharp)
"Where's Rose?"
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Metro lifts his head from his pillow, barely conscious.
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Metro: (whispering)
"I don't know..."
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Lilly's expression fractures, fear, anger, betrayal all hitting at once.
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Lilly:
"She left looking for you."
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Metro's eyes glare. A sound echoes in his skull—Rose's scream replaying like a memory forced through a tunnel. He stares at the ceiling, trembling, shaking.
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His vision tunnels. He looks out at nothing, into space.
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(A moment)
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Metro: (barely above a whisper)
"Heal me..."
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Lilly freezes.
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Shocked.
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Offended.
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Hurt.
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Lilly: (pleading, sharp)
"My daughter."
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Metro's head turns toward her, slow, heavy like lifting stone. His eyes lock onto hers—desperate, burning, something underneath.
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Metro: (quietly, calmly)
"I know you love Rose.
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(beat)
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That you would do anything to protect her.
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(Coughs)
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I would too."
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(Another beat.)
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"I'm broken, Lilly.
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(breath shaking)
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I have nothing, I am nothing,
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(soft breath)
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Not without Rose. Not without everyone...
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(A long beat)
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I need your help...
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please...
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heal me..."
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(Silence.)
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Lilly's breath catches. Her jaw tightens. Her eyes flicker with Metro's, she looks at the doorway.
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Sally stares at Lilly as if saying "choose."
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Lilly swallows hard, then places her trembling hands on his chest.
A faint glow begins to expand underneath her palms. A healing light spreads. Metro's breath steadies. His vision clears. Strength returns—not fully, but enough. Metro lifts himself slowly, wincing, but moving.
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Sally lowers her head, acting as if she's guarding the ritual.
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Lilly pulls her hand away, exhausted, wiping her eyes with the back of her wrist.
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She turns towards the door.
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Paul's waiting on the upper balcony. They all are.
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She looks at Metro.
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Lilly:
"Go."
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She doesn't look back, just stares at the chamber bed.
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Metro walks through the corridor, slowly, still slightly weak, breath shaking, eyes burning, but with near clarity. Sally steps aside to let him pass. He pats her on the nose and rubs her crown. Lilly steps out of Metro's chamber, wiping her eyes with the back of her wrist. Her hands still glowing faintly. She tries to steady her breath.
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Paul enters the staircase from the upper balcony, blood on his shirt, bandages half-wrapped around his arm. He sees her.
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Slows.
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Stops.
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For a moment, neither speak.
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Lilly:(voice breaking first)
"I can't find her. I can't feel her. She's gone."
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Paul exhales through his nose, tired, hurting, but grounded.
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Paul:
"You're scared I understand, she's left because of him.
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(shakes his head honestly)
She left because she loves him, and because she's brave."
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Lilly's breath trembles. She looks away blinking fast.
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Lilly:
"I should have stopped her."
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Paul leans on the railing beside her.
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Paul:
"You couldn't have, Rose doesn't follow orders. She follows her heart, and right now, we have to find her."
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Lilly presses her hands over her eyebrows. Trying not to cry.
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Lilly: (pleading)
"Bring her back."
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Paul: (serious, dry)
"I will."
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No jokes.
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No humor.
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Just truth.
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Paul turns to head to the family table. Lilly reaches out and grabs his wrist.
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He stops.
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She doesn't say anything at first—she just looks at him.
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The blood, the bruises. The weight he's carrying for her daughter.
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Her voice softens.
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Lilly:
"You're hurt."
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Paul tries to shrug it off.
"I had worse."
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Lilly steps closer—very close—her hand rises to his chest.
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Lilly:
"Let me."
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Paul hesitates, because he's not used to being cared for. A soft warm glow spreads beneath her hand—brighter than when she healed Metro. More focused, more intimate. The light becomes bright white, shining through her eyes and fingertips. Her healing is responding to emotion, and right now she's overflowing with it.
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Paul inhales the warmth passing through him. His green aura flickers, embers catching wind.
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Lilly rests her hand gently on Paul's chest. Paul's arms lift instinctively—not being romantic on purpose—just instinct. He wraps them around her, holding her as the healing spell intensifies, consuming scars with speediness.
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She leans into him, eyes closed.
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Paul's wounds knit themselves, absorbing back to perfect form. His strength returns, aura stabilizes and he stands tall again, trying not to marvel.
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Lilly pulls back slowly, her hand still on his chest, her eyes searching his.
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Lilly:
"Go."
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Paul nods, firm, renewed, and enters the family balcony.
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It's dim, lit by seven thick candles arranged around the long wooden table. Their flames flicker violently from the draft of the soldiers rushing between floors. Shadows stretch across the walls like long trembling fingers.
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The map of the Providence covers the entire table—a massive parchment, stained with dirt, sweat and blood.
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It shows:
-The Whispering Forest—west of castle and spotted everywhere.
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-Hay field stretched east.
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-Castle Fortress marked.
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-The forked roads, north, and south.
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-The spring, creeks, caves, the Whispering Village, North.
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-The three rivers, South, and Southeast nearby mountain range.
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WOODEN MARKERS SHOW—
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*Five enemy wagons.
*Possible retreat paths.
*Possible bandit regroup points.
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Lutheran lies on the table, thigh being sewn, and stitched by farmhands.
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Paul leans over the map, green chakra pulsing.
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Gregory, Chad, and two other archers stand behind Paul. Ten soldiers are injured, bandaged, bruised, barely standing.
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Lilly watches from the chamber stairway, silent, reserved.
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Metro is present, pale, but standing.
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Thirty infantry occupy the bottom cafeteria area, healthy, awaiting orders. The air is thick with blood and fear. The first five injured soldiers are the first to break. One slams his fist on the table.
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Inj-Soldier 1: "If we don't get that crop back, we're done, demoted, dead meat, possibly imprisoned..."
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Another limps forward voice shaking.
Inj-Soldier 2: "Theron will blame us, and slay us, like he's done his servants who served before us!"
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Inj-Soldier 3:
"We're dead..."
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The candles' fire bends, hiss as wax drips down their sides. The map trembles under another fist slam, rattling the wooden markers.
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Inj-Soldier 4: (Rawness)
"My brother died out there tonight! FOR WHAT?! For a field we couldn't hold!?"
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His voice cracks but he continues.
"We were outnumbered!"
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"Outplayed!"
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"Outplanned!"
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"And nobody warned us!"
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Inj-Soldier 5:
"We lost ten men in ten minutes—TEN! And the bandits walked off with nearly half the harvest. Like it was nothing! We're the ones who bled for this place, what are we gonna do!?"
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Inj-Soldier 4:
"WE NEED TO SEARCH AND DESTROY!"
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A farmhand stitching Lutheran flinches at the shouting.
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Inj-Soldier 6: (softer, whimpering, crying)
"I watched my brother die... right in front of me. He kept calling for help... and I couldn't move."
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The room goes still, his head lifts, eyes wet, jaw trembling.
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The candles flicker.
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There are five injured soldiers bruised, bandaged at the table, barely upright, five on the edge of the balcony. One soldier shifts into Metro's direction.
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Sam:
"Where the hell were you, Overseer!?"
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The room goes still. Gregory and the archers snap back, defending Metro's honor.
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Gregory: (sharp, monotone) (face covered)
"Watch your mouth! He nearly died out there, fighting the same scum that tore through your line."
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Archer:
"You want someone to blame? Blame the bastards who ambushed us—Not the man who stood his ground."
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The tone escalates tension.
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Gregory:
"We've witnessed something no one else saw.'
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'The White Flame.'
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'It wasn't human."
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Lutheran, still being stitched, growls through his clenched teeth.
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Luther:
"Shut it! All of you."
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The room goes still again.
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The map waits.
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Lutheran bangs his fist on the table, nearly knocking multiple candles.
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"Stop your crying! Tears enough to fill the rivers we're about to cross!"
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The room freezes.
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"We all lost someone tonight. I watched men that I trained die in the mud."
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He swings his legs off the table, half hopping towards the balcony. Stitches pulling, pain being ignored.
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He bellows at the infantry below.
"We're taking the crop back boys! Let's go slaughter some pigs!"
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A roar erupts from the cafeteria hallway—weary soldiers snarling, shouting, ready to fight.
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"Get up here. Gather round the table lads."
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Boots thunder on the stairs as the infantry surge upward, filling the upper balcony shoulder to shoulder. Lutheran grabs a mug of apple cider, takes a sip, turns serious.
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"I saw Metro fighting for his friends tonight, and I don't know about you, but I'm willing to stand by him.
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He's one of us."
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Paul steps forward, both hands slamming onto the table.
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WHAM.
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The wooden markers rattle.
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Paul:
"We're wasting TIME!
Rose is gone!
— And the bandits might have her!"
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(A beat)
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The room comes to a slow halt, frozen in time.
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One of the archers swallows, voice barely above a whisper.
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Archer:
"They do have her…"
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The silence that follows is suffocating.
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A candle pops. Someone inhales sharply. Boots stop shifting. Lilly gasps — a small broken sound, curling down, her head into her knees.
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Metro goes pale. Even whiter. — From the sudden certainty that the scream he heard wasn't imagined. His fingertips grip the edge of the table. His breath shakes. The white sharpness flickers, ignites behind his eyes. Everyone watches him.
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And then —Sally.
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She steps in the doorway from the Corridor Staircase, her hooves on stone, her white aura dim, but present. The soldiers instinctively make room for her. She lifts her head. Not wildly. Knowingly. A deep wisdom. An ancient communication.
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Her ears tilt forward, her nostrils flare.
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Her gaze sharpens, not at the chaos.
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At him.
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Metro's chest tightens. His breath catches.
The whiteness sharpens behind his eyes and head. Sally takes one step forward. Her gaze says everything.
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Metro steps forward, the white glow rising, rushing, behind his frame like a storm waking. His voice is quiet at first. But it blows through the walls like a rushing wind.
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Metro:
"Paul and Lutheran are right — Rose is gone. The crop is gone. Our livelihood is in jeopardy. Our brothers have fallen."
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He looks around at the table — at the infantry crowding the stairs.
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"We stand here together(beat) ready to fight for our lives."
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The room leans in.
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"But we shouldn't be fighting for our lives. We should be fighting for one life."
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(long pause)
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"Rose's."
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A shift ripples through the hall — a tightening of shoulders, a collective breath held. Even the candles seem to still.
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"The world means nothing if you can't share it with the ones you love. Our freedom, our rights to protect (our) beliefs and loved ones. No coin, no victory can fill that void."
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His body brightens — a soft white pulse, like a spirit breathing through him.
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He places a finger on the map, looking downward, slowly.
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"Time is against us."
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The glow intensifies.
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His eyes sharpen.
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His movements quicken — spirit-guided instincts.
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"I've traveled my whole life, trying to hear and follow the whisperings."
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(gazes at map)
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"And I've finally learned —
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○ when you're in the fire — ○"
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(places index finger, sliding while speaking)
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"— You stay in the fire ○"
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He drags his finger to the first river on the southeast side, near the mountains.
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Metro:
"Here."
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"This is where we ambush them."
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(taps map twice)
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Metro looks up at everyone, eyes glowing bright white. The room goes dead silent. Paul leans in.
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Lutheran stops breathing. The archers stare.
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Metro:(voice steady, sure)
"Paul — take Sally. Lily should heal Lutheran.
The thirty infantry ride with you two.”
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He looks up again, meeting every eye in the room.
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"If we move, we can turn this."
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The soldiers stare at him.
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Paul breaks the silence first .
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Paul:
"Alright!"
Lutheran:( snaps fingers)
"Right! Lilly- on me! Please!"
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The room erupts in motion, the men gather gear, archers tightening bows, farmhands clearing the table. They disperse with purpose.
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With Faith.
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With Fire.
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MAIN GATE- FRONT COURTYARD -
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Metro steps towards Paul, his brightness shimmering down now, his voice almost ashamed.
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Metro:
"Should I come with you?"
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Paul turns around, his eyes deep hazel. His countenance is unmistakable.
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He shakes his head .
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Paul:
"No."
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He places a hand on Metro's shoulder —
firm, grounding, brotherly.
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"You stay here, protect Lily for me."
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Metro swallows, white light trying to maintain itself.
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Paul continues, voice firm and confident, hand already on Sally's saddle.
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"We'll get Rose back. Rest."
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He turns towards Sally who's waiting to go. Like she already knows what time it is. The courtyard is still buzzing in the night. The men gather gear.
Sally stamps her hooves, ready to run. Metro watches faintly, barely standing. The sky is clear, the stars glistening. Paul turns to Metro one last time.
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"Keep a lookout from the castle, until we get back, that's your post."
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Metro nods — not because he wants to, but because Paul asked him too. (like a father would ask a son)
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Paul pats Metro's shoulder one last time, giving him a bit of healing energy. The moment he swings onto Sally, his eyes glare neon green which then covers his whole frame.
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The dark night sky swallows the forest as the riders thunder through it, hooves striking the earth like war drums. The clouds move, grey, gathering, waiting for their cue to rain again.
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Lutheran leads the charge on his blood red war horse — his shoulders broad, forward, jaw set, eyes burning with purpose.
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Paul rides close behind him. Steady as stone.
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The weight of command on his back.
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Thirty infantry follow. Shields rattling, bows strapped tight, armor clashing with every stride.
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Paul feels everyone's energy, yet he feels alone.
He's not riding for glory. Or for vengeance. But for a righteous cause.
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Lantern lights swing across their faces as the horses push through the narrow trail. Branches scrape, hooves thud. Breath fogs in the cold forest.
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Lutheran's voice breaks the quiet, loud as always.
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Luther: (raised voice)
"I'll miss him, Mathaias… He wasted our men, charging blindly… but he was a decent soldier."
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Paul doesn't look over. His jaw is locked.
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Paul:
"We snatch Rose and get out!"
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"Everything else is noise!"
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Lutheran snorts, while galloping, laughing, half-offended.
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Luther:
"What about cracking skulls, capturing bounty?"
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"That's half the fun. Right!?"
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— Silent beat —
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"Alright…
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… Your boy, Metro —
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"Do you believe his plan?"
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Paul stays silent, galloping on Sally, long enough for the forest to answer for him.
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Paul:
"Yes."
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Lutheran exhales sharply, quickly; nods, grin fading.
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The lantern light catches the worry in his eyes.
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Lutheran: (turns, looking at Paul)
"The comrades back at base are pacing holes in the floor right now…
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'… You think your boy will blame himself if we can't find the girl?"
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(A moment passes)
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Lutheran tries again —
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"He'll blame himself, if the wind blows wrong."
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Lutheran laughs.
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Paul doesn't react.
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His chakra flickers green, pulsing with his heartbeat.
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Lutheran notices.
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Lutheran:
"You're glowing again…
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Terrifying, but amazing!"
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Paul keeps his eyes forward, posture rigid, breath steady.
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Luther:
"We get the damsel, take the crop — and bail out!"
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Lutheran leans forward, whipping the reins attached to his large red stallion.
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— Scene switch —
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— FIRST RIVER BY MOUNTAIN SCAPE —
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The forest is black around the clearing, but the bandits' temporary camp burns bright —Three tents, two roaring fires, torches jammed into the dirt, and the heavy stink of magic leaf spilling from the wagons.
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Inside one of the tents, Rose lies on her side.
Hands tied, on dirt ground. An itchy potato sack is pulled over her head. Her breath is hot and trapped, every inhale tasting of fear and terror.
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Outside, the bandits celebrate. Laughing maniacally. Boots stomping. Vials clinking.
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They pass around small glass bottles filled with brown liquid, gulping it like it's courage.
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Some cough, growl, some howl, some sway.
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A few handfuls of leaf are thrown into the fire. The flame flares, and ascends upward, green and black, like a magic mirror.
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The men giggle like children, inhaling through their nostrils, eyes watering, shoulders shaking.
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Bandits: (dancing)
"There it is!!"
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The stolen crops sit piled high in the wagons — massive stallions pull the wooden carriages with iron frames, and wheels, creaking under the weight. The smell is overwhelming, thick enough to taste.
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One of Cat's blue-eyed generals climbs onto the top of a lead wagon. He's broad shouldered, scarred, and drunk on victory.
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He raises his arm, mouth and nose covered in navy blue rags, eyes bulging, icy blue.
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Blue General:
"Pack UP and OUT!"
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— The camp snaps to attention.
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Laughter dies.
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Boots stop dancing.
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The music of chaos collapses into discipline.
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Torches are grabbed, vials pocketed, weapons sheathed. Ropes tightened around wagons. The noise settles into a low, efficient hum.
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The bandit camp begins preparing to move out
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— fast, efficient, practiced.
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— INSIDE BANDIT'S TENT —
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Rose doesn't move. She just listens. The sudden quiet outside tells her everything..They're leaving.
And they're taking her with them. Her breathing tightens under the sack.
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The ropes bite into her wrist as she tests them — still tight, still unforgiving.
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Outside, a General yells.
"Faster! We have one hour!"
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The footsteps fade. The camp keeps shifting.
Rose waits in the dark…
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— APPROACHING BANDITS BY FIRST RIVER–
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The forest gives way and the moonlit sky opens up over brush and tall hills. Lutheran reaches up and snuffs his lantern with his fingers.
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Paul does the same without a word.
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Luther: (quiet, low)
"We're getting close."
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Paul doesn't answer. His jaw is locked, eyes forward. They push through the last line of trees until the ground dips. The river bank opens beneath them — dark water moving slow, wide and cold.
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Lutheran inhales, a long, practiced breath.
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Luther:
"The river's here… about a hundred meters away.. I can smell the bud from here(grins manically)… and the bandit stains."
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Paul halts.
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Dismounts.
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Lutheran follows.
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Behind them, the thirty infantry all dismount, stopping in a ripple of motion. They lead the horses back fifty meters, tie them off, and return on foot — quietly, low, and disciplined.
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A few paces forward, Paul raises a hand.
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Then goes prone.
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The men drop into the tall grass like they're trained for this their whole lives.
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Paul steps, crouched very low. Only Paul and Lutheran are on their knees, shadows against brush, scoping the enemies' camp, behind a thick mass of leaves. Lutheran grin widens even more, crouching beside him.
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Luther:
"We got 'em where we want 'em."
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"Let's ambush these morons."
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Paul shakes his head once.
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Paul:
"No, we split. Flank."
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Lutheran blinks, surprised.
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"I come from the west.
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You come from the east.
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Twenty men with me.
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Your best ten shooters with you."
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Lutheran's eyes brighten— impressed despite himself.
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Paul:
"We cross the river in separate groups, once I strike you pinch them from the rear. Arrows. Crossbows."
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Lutheran stares at him, then laughs under his breath.
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Lutheran:
Magnificent plan. We'll give 'em a taste of their own medicine.
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Paul doesn't respond. His eyes are locked on the dimming camps faint orange fire across the river.
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He's not thinking about tactics. He's thinking about Rose. His aura flickers, lighting up the darkness, eyes forward.
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He's hell bent.
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— switch scene — continues
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— RIVER CROSSING MASSACRE —
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The river is black glass under the moon.
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Lutheran waves his hand forward, looking back at his squad.
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His ten archers gather beside him, silent as ghosts.
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He steps into the rushing river first.
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— THE CROSSING —
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The water rises to their waists.
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Then their chest.
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Then necks.
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Cold enough to steal breath.
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Each man who has a crossbow raised overhead, steel fittings glinting faintly under starlight.
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They push through the current, boots dragging under water, smothering sandy mud, the water drops again to their chest, then waist, then their knees.
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— They emerge dripping, steam rising off their armor, moving slowly, crouched.
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Ahead — the bandit camp.
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Torches being snuffed out one by one.
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But the campfires burn still, orange and low.
Lutheran crouches behind tall grass, eyes narrowing. He turns to his men and gestures sharply.
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Luther: (hand signals)
"Spread out."
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Five archers peel off, climbing trees around the wagons with ease — perching on high branches like hawks, crossbows ready, bows strapped to their backs.
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Lutheran points to the ground.
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Lutheran:
"Down. Five points..Closer to the river, we hold until Paul pops off, eyes out for the lady, lets knock two birds out with one stone."
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His men don't hesitate. No questions. Lutheran drops flat on his belly and begins crawling toward the camp, slow and deliberate.
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Bandits kick dirt onto the fires. Some sit on top of wagons, most prepare to move on foot.
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The camp grows darker…
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quieter…
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...more vulnerable.
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Lutheran stops moving, head pacing, watching shadows shift. He wonders where Paul is.
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Then —
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The detonation —
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Paul: (screaming horrifically)
ARRGHHAAAA!!!
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SMASHH —
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Green sparks explode across a bandit's torso. He hits the dirt twitching, body convulsing violently, smoke rising from his clothes.
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Paul hops over the carcass, mallets wielded, rushing with infantry behind him. He swings his hammer heads in uppercut motions. Hooks smash. Bodies fly. Sand sprays.
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Beaming vine energy pulses from the earth into his legs, catching enemies as he runs.The infantry roars, crashing into the bandits behind him —Some bandits fight, some flee.
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Steel clashes.
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Men fall.
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Shadows thrash in the firelight.
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Lutheran lifts his head, watching Paul tear through men like a storm.
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Luther: (soft, amazed, in awe)
"… wow."
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Three evil generals whip the reins on the horses pulling the stolen crop in wagons. An attempted retreat.
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Luther: (sharp, loud, commanding)
"FIRE!!!"
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His archers release at once.
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Arrows rain down from the sides — and from above. Two blue-eyed generals drop instantly —
bolts through their chests.
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The last general and one red-eyed assassin vanish into the dark, their footsteps heard for only a few seconds, disappearing in the distance.
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Two more assassins appear, faces covered, one on top of a wagon, hurling daggers at infantry men below.
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Lutheran inhales. (instincts kindled)
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(slow motion focus)
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He rises on one knee.
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Draws, aims —
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A bandit runs (into the path lined with) the assassin's body —
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Lutheran's eyes dilate, he releases —
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The arrow slices through the assassin's face, then buries into the bandit's skull behind him, connecting the two fallen bodies.
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Both bodies drop. Attached. Lutheran goes prone again.
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Luther: (smiling, relaxed)
"Double Points."
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He pops a vial out from his belt, containing a clear liquid. Cracks the lid and rolls his body in the grass to throw the drink back.
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He seems unbothered by the chaos. Obviously entertained. Eyes wide with excitement and interest.
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Above him, the last assassin is struck from behind — multiple arrows piercing through his body like a voodoo doll.
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He screams, collapses to the ground with a hard thud, dies.
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Paul continues his onslaught and rampage.
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He backhands left, then right —mallets cracking ribs, skulls, indenting armor like crushed tin cans.
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Bandits scatter violently, dramatically. Infantry chases. Chaos everywhere. Paul reaches the first tent. He rips the flap open. There she is.
161Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1BNMBnvyFg
Rose.
161Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAwzXqNPKg3
Paul: (exasperated, urgent)
"ROSE!”
161Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgLuHIlrxhu
161Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPRlRyH8rGM
and then Add to home screen.