The Lazy Chronicles: Apartment of the Apocalypse-Chapter 122 - 123

She narrowed her eyes at the inscription. What if the test wasn’t about actually leaving someone behind?

She took a slow, deliberate breath. Then she stepped forward.

"If a sacrifice is needed," she said clearly, "I will be the one to stay."

The air around them rippled. The golden light of the inscription flared, illuminating the entire courtyard.

Quinn’s eyes widened. "Mallory, no—"

The moment the words left her lips, the ground trembled. The mist that had surrounded the Ruined City began to shift, coiling toward the Gate like unseen hands reaching for something.

Then, just as suddenly as it started—everything went still.

The Gate pulsed once more, and then...

The inscription vanished.

Mallory’s breath caught. The others looked around, eyes wide with disbelief.

Greg blinked. "Wait. That’s it? No one actually has to stay?"

Elara exhaled. "The test wasn’t about losing someone... it was about proving we were willing to make the sacrifice."

Avaris nodded approvingly. "You have passed."

The Forgotten Gate shuddered. The massive doors, untouched by time, began to shift—slowly opening.

Beyond them lay darkness.

Mallory turned back to her team. "We move together."

Greg let out a shaky laugh. "For a second there, I really thought we were screwed."

Elara smirked. "I did too."

Quinn shook his head but smiled faintly. "Let’s not do that again."

Mallory gave him a small nod before stepping forward.

The darkness swallowed them whole.

---

The Realm Beyond the Gate

The moment they stepped through, the sensation of falling hit them.

Not physically—but as if the world itself shifted around them.

When the disorientation faded, they found themselves in a new place.

It was nothing like the Ruined City.

The sky above them was crimson, streaked with swirling clouds of silver mist. The ground was smooth obsidian, reflecting their images like a twisted mirror. In the distance, massive structures floated in the air, suspended by unknown forces.

Avaris inhaled sharply. "By the gods..."

Greg looked around, eyes wide. "Uh. I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore."

Elara ignored him, scanning the horizon. "Where are we?"

Mallory took a step forward, feeling the strange ground beneath her boots.

"This..." Avaris hesitated. "This is a place that should not exist."

Quinn frowned. "You mean like some kind of... another dimension?"

Avaris nodded slowly. "The Forgotten Gate is not just a passage. It is a threshold between worlds."

Mallory narrowed her eyes. "Then we’re exactly where we need to be."

A deep, resonant voice suddenly echoed through the air.

"You who have passed the trials... have earned the right to walk this path."

The air in front of them shimmered.

Then, a figure emerged—a being clad in silver robes, its face obscured by a featureless mask. It floated above the ground, radiating a presence that was both calm and utterly overwhelming.

Greg tensed. "Okay. Who the hell is this guy?"

The being tilted its head slightly.

"I am the Gatekeeper."

Avaris stiffened. "The legends speak of you."

The Gatekeeper regarded them for a moment before speaking again.

"Few reach this place. Fewer still are allowed to proceed. You have proven your strength, your resilience, and your willingness to sacrifice. But the journey is not yet complete."

Mallory met its gaze evenly. "Then tell us—what comes next?"

The Gatekeeper extended a hand.

"The Final Trial."

The air shifted, and suddenly, everything blurred—the world bending around them.

When the distortion cleared, they were no longer standing on solid ground.

Instead, they were in a vast, endless void.

Floating before them were multiple versions of themselves—each one slightly different, slightly altered. Some were younger. Some were older. Some bore scars they didn’t have. Some carried weapons they had never wielded.

Greg paled. "Uh. What the hell are we looking at?"

The Gatekeeper’s voice was quiet, yet carried immense weight.

"You stand at the precipice of possibility. To move forward, you must face... yourselves."

The alternate versions turned toward them—eyes gleaming with unreadable intent.

The battle with their own fates had begun.

---

Blinky wobbled happily at the front of the group, leading them deeper into the underground ruins. The cultists—now fervent believers in their gelatinous god—walked in reverent silence, their torches casting flickering shadows on the crumbling stone walls.

Greg, still coming to terms with their new divine status, muttered under his breath, "I cannot believe a sentient jellybean is our ticket to survival."

Mallory smirked. "Jealous?"

Greg threw his hands in the air. "Absolutely! If I had known becoming a deity was this easy, I’d have started jiggling more in my daily life!"

Quinn patted his shoulder. "Well, Greg—er, I mean, Steve—you just don’t have the same... presence Blinky does."

Greg sighed dramatically. "Tragic."

Elara ignored their antics and focused on their surroundings. The underground passage widened, revealing towering stone pillars covered in carvings that shimmered faintly in the dim torchlight. Symbols of long-forgotten civilizations were etched into every surface—figures in worship, depictions of great battles, and, most unsettlingly, the same key Mallory carried in her pocket.

She tensed.

"Look at the walls," she murmured, brushing her fingers over the carvings. "This place isn’t just ancient. It’s directly connected to the Forgotten Gate."

The cult leader, still draped in ragged robes, turned and nodded solemnly. "The Oracle has awaited your arrival. The Gate and its secrets are known to her."

Greg leaned over to Quinn and whispered, "I swear, if this ’Oracle’ is just some old lady who speaks in riddles, I am going to lose it."

Quinn grinned. "That’s exactly what an oracle does."

Greg groaned.

The cultists led them to a massive stone door, flanked by eerie statues of hooded figures. The leader stepped forward, pressing a hand against a circular indentation. The ground rumbled as the door slid open, revealing a vast chamber within. ƒгeeweɓn૦vel.com

At its center, a throne sat atop a platform of intertwining roots and stone, as if the very earth had woven itself into a seat of power. And upon that throne, bathed in the glow of ethereal blue flames, sat the Oracle.

Her body was draped in tattered silk, her skin an unnatural shade of pale silver. She wore a crown of bones, and her blindfolded eyes seemed to pierce straight through them.

"Come forward, bearers of the key," her voice echoed, reverberating in the chamber.

Mallory stepped ahead, clutching the key. The others followed, keeping their distance but staying close enough in case things went south.

The Oracle tilted her head slightly, as if listening to something unseen. Then, she spoke:

"You who hold the key... you who seek the Gate... do you know the price that must be paid?"

Mallory hesitated. "We were told it was ’the Price of a Hero.’ But no one explained what that means."

The Oracle exhaled slowly. "Then listen well. For the Gate is not merely a doorway—it is a trial. A test of will, of sacrifice, and of destiny."

Greg crossed his arms. "Why is it never just a regular door?"

The Oracle ignored him.

"The Forgotten Gate stands at the threshold of power beyond mortal understanding. To open it, one must pay the toll—not in gold, but in fate itself. A choice must be made: to forge ahead and lose something dear, or to turn back and remain in ignorance."

Silence stretched between them.

Alex frowned. "Lose what, exactly?"

The Oracle’s sightless gaze seemed to settle directly on Mallory. "A memory. A bond. A future. Each who seeks the Gate must leave behind something irreplaceable."

Mallory tightened her grip on the key. She had already lost so much—her home, her past life, even pieces of herself she could barely recall. Could she risk another sacrifice?

Quinn, ever the opportunist, asked, "And what if we refuse to pay?"

The Oracle’s lips curled in a grim smile. "Then the Gate will remain closed. And the knowledge, the power you seek, will remain forever beyond your reach."

Greg exhaled. "Right. So, to summarize: Either we give up something important, or we go home empty-handed?"

"Correct."

Greg threw his hands up. "Classic ancient nonsense."

Mallory ignored him, deep in thought. This wasn’t just her decision—it affected all of them. The key was in her possession, but they had all come this far together.

She turned to the others. "If we do this, we do it knowing we might lose something we can’t get back. So I won’t decide for you. If anyone wants to back out, now’s the time."

Elara looked at the Oracle, then at Mallory. "We knew this wasn’t going to be easy. I’m in."

Quinn smirked. "Wouldn’t be an adventure without a little danger. I’m in, too."

Alex nodded. "Same here."

Greg groaned but eventually sighed. "Fine. But if I wake up tomorrow without my incredible sense of humor, I’m blaming all of you."

Mallory turned back to the Oracle. "Then we accept the price."

The Oracle raised a skeletal hand, and the chamber trembled. The flames around her throne flared higher, turning deep crimson.

"Then step forward," she intoned, "and surrender what the Gate demands."

---

The Sacrifice

One by one, they approached.

Elara went first. She placed her hand on the Oracle’s outstretched palm, and a faint light pulsed from her chest. A soft gasp escaped her lips as something unseen was taken.

She staggered back, clutching her head. "I... don’t know what I just lost."

Quinn followed, gritting his teeth as the same energy was drawn from him. "That felt weird," he muttered.

Alex stepped up next. He remained stoic as the process repeated, though his jaw tightened in pain.

Greg hesitated. "This is a terrible idea," he muttered. But he stepped forward anyway. The moment the energy left him, his face twisted in sudden confusion. "Wait... what was I saying?"

Mallory was the last. She inhaled sharply and pressed her palm to the Oracle’s.

The sensation was cold—not physically, but something deeper, like a part of her very soul was being unraveled. For a fleeting moment, a vision flashed before her eyes—someone’s laughter, a warm embrace—then it was gone.

She gasped, stumbling back. "What—what did I just—"

The Oracle lowered her hands. "The price has been paid."

Mallory clutched her chest, trying to grasp the missing piece. Something important had just vanished from her mind, but she had no way of knowing what.

Greg blinked. "Does anyone else feel like we just got scammed?"

Before anyone could respond, the Oracle gestured toward the far wall. The stone shifted and groaned, revealing a passage leading downward.

"The Forgotten Gate awaits," she said.

Mallory exhaled, still shaken. But there was no turning back now.

She gripped the key tighter. "Let’s finish this."

---

Beyond the Gate

The descent was steep, the air thick with an ancient, almost electric energy.

At last, they reached a massive chamber, dominated by a towering golden gate, covered in glowing runes. The very sight of it sent a shiver down Mallory’s spine.

Greg whistled. "That’s one fancy door."

Mallory stepped forward and held up the key. The runes shimmered brighter, reacting to its presence.

With a deep breath, she slid the key into the lock.

The ground trembled. The air crackled with energy. The gate groaned as it slowly creaked open, revealing a void of swirling golden light beyond.

Elara stared. "Whatever’s in there... it’s not from this world."

Mallory took a step forward, determination hardening her expression. "Then let’s go find out."

And with that, they stepped into the unknown.

---

To Be Continued...

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