Trapped In Elysium: A Virtual Reality Nightmare-Chapter 174: Portal

The air had turned unnaturally still around the tomb, as if even the wind dared not stir while fate unraveled its last threads.

The queen stood before Marcus, her form dimmer than before, her light not just flickering — but waning. Her hands trembled slightly, not from fear, but from exhaustion... from sacrifice. Each second that passed, the glow around her soul-body thinned like smoke on the verge of fading.

She looked at Marcus and nodded once, sharply. "There’s no more time."

He stepped forward, silent, jaw tight.

She raised a hand, and from her palm, a glow began to form — not bright, not radiant like the magic of stories — but heavy. It carried weight in the way gravity does, unseen but undeniable. The small orb grew slowly, painfully, like something pulled from her very bones. It spun slowly in her palm, no larger than a bead, its surface dim and pulsing like a dying star.

The others watched in silence. No one dared to speak.

"This," the queen whispered, her voice straining, "is my essence. A tether. Life... drawn from death. And it will stop Liam."

Marcus blinked. "Stop him?"

The queen’s gaze was steady. "When the time comes... when Liam stands ready to offer his life for hers... this orb will not let him."

She took a long, trembling breath. "It will bind itself to him the moment he receives it. Not in body, but in soul. It will make the exchange impossible. His death will be... refused. Life cannot be taken when another soul is already anchoring his own."

The silence around them thickened.

Sophia stepped forward slowly, unsure. "So... he’ll try to die. But he won’t be able to."

The queen nodded. "Exactly."

"But he’ll never know," Eleanor said quietly.

"He must never know," the queen said. "If he even suspects... the soul-thread will detach. And he will fall."

Marcus stared down at the orb as it hovered inches from the queen’s palm, pulsing like a heartbeat that wasn’t his. He felt something from it — not warmth... but presence. Like it knew what it had been made for.

"He wasn’t meant to receive this," Marcus murmured.

"No," the queen said. "None of this was ever meant to happen. But time is breaking... and love does not obey the rules of fate."

Marcus nodded slowly, a faint bitterness curling in his chest. "So I take it back... to the past. To that day. And I give it to him... but he can’t know."

The queen’s light dimmed further as she gave a small nod. "Your older self... he will know what to do. You must find him. Merge this essence with what he already intends to give Liam. It won’t change the past. Not in a way that will alert the world. But it will prepare Liam... when the moment comes."

Marcus took a step forward.

"I’m ready."

The queen’s hand trembled as she extended it.

The moment the orb left her palm and settled into Marcus’s hand, a jolt ran through his arm — like touching live flame that didn’t burn. He gasped, his fingers tightening instinctively around it. And then... the light sank into his skin. Not with a flash. Not with a sound. It simply entered him — like water vanishing into dry ground.

And it was gone.

But he felt it inside him. Quiet. Waiting.

"You’ll know when to release it," the queen whispered. "Just don’t wait too long."

Sophia stepped closer, concern deepening in her eyes. "What happens to you now?"

The queen gave her a faint smile — tired, ancient, and soft. "I endure. For now."

Mariel frowned. "You look like you’re dying."

"Maybe I am," she said. "But Liam won’t. Not if this works."

Marcus looked down at his hands, then back to the others.

Jason was fidgeting, clearly disturbed. Von had gone pale. Borik stood silently, eyes full of questions he hadn’t yet asked.

The queen’s breath shuddered as she raised her arms. Her light, already dim from the creation of the essence orb, now thinned even more — a soft flicker beneath the daylight, her outline almost vanishing at the edges. Her fingers twitched with effort, and the wind that had lain still until now began to stir with a quiet whine, curling in invisible currents around her soul-form.

Then the ground trembled slightly — just a shiver, as though time itself recoiled.

The air bent, just above the stone threshold of the tomb’s sealed doors. It twisted inward like cloth pulled through a pinhole, and a slit appeared in the fabric of reality. At first it was no more than a tear, small and glimmering, but it widened slowly, pushed open by a power far older than anyone present had ever witnessed.

What lay beyond the tear was not light or dark — but motion. Time, unfiltered and raw, churned behind the threshold in silent spirals of gold, silver, and deep blue. A vast corridor with no floor, no walls, no sky. Just shifting strands of memory and future, coiled like rivers seeking the sea.

The portal opened fully with a soft hum. A circle now floated before them — not on the ground, not in the air, but held in-between, like a thought halfway between dream and voice.

"There," the queen whispered, her voice trembling with strain. "Step through. And it will take you... where you are needed."

Marcus stared at it, heart racing.

He turned to face the others.

Sophia stepped forward first, her brows pulled tight, hands clenched at her sides. "Just find your older self. And fix this."

"I will," Marcus said, his voice rough.

Jason gave a short nod. "Be subtle. You always sucked at subtle. Don’t mess this up."

Eleanor gave him a sharp look. "Don’t give him more pressure."

Then Mariel stepped forward and touched Marcus’s arm. "Be careful."

"I always am," he said, forcing a smirk — though his throat felt like stone.

He looked to the queen, whose light was now pale as mist.

She gave him a sharp look, but it was laced with urgency. "Go. Now. I cannot hold the portal on both ends for long. I must anchor the past and present simultaneously — it’s draining my soul. The longer you take... the more of me will be lost."

Marcus’s jaw clenched. "How will I know when it’s done?"

"You’ll feel it," she said. "The moment you’ve set the thread, time will begin to heal itself. Don’t speak to your younger self. Don’t speak to the others. Don’t try to alter what has already unfolded. You’re not here to rewrite fate. You’re here to sew one stitch — and nothing more."

"Understood."

He turned back to the portal, exhaled once, and stepped forward.

With one last glance at the faces around him — he whispered, "I’ll save him."

And then he stepped into the light.

There was no sound, no lurching sensation, no sense of falling.

Just... silence.

The portal shimmered once more behind him. The glow of the queen’s form dimmed even further, flickering like the last candle in a windblown room.

She said nothing.

She simply waited.

And prayed he would be quick.