Trapped In Elysium: A Virtual Reality Nightmare-Chapter 136: Time slipping away

Before anyone could even blink, the spirit vanished in a gust of wind and darkness.

"Jason!" Von bellowed.

But the warning came a heartbeat too late. A screech of air tore through the chamber as the spirit reappeared at Jason’s side, claws already slicing through the air.

Jason flinched instinctively, throwing himself backward, and the talons grazed his left shoulder. A flash of blood erupted across his tunic as he hit the ground with a grunt, rolling to the side to avoid a second strike. The spirit missed by inches, claws raking across the stone floor instead, sparks bursting from the impact. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝕨𝕖𝗯𝚗𝚘𝕧𝕖𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝕞

Jason cried out, more in surprise than pain, scrambling away as Von lunged with his arm half-raised, but he was too slow.

The spirit twisted its head unnaturally toward Marcus next, zeroing in like a predator. Mariel lay slumped across his back, unmoving, her long hair draping down his side like a ghost’s veil. Marcus staggered slightly under her weight, trying to adjust his grip, when he saw the spirit shift, preparing to lunge again.

"Damn it—" he cursed.

But Liam was already in motion.

He stepped in front of Marcus with both feet grounded and his blazing sword raised. His stance was steady—right foot back, left knee bent, hands clenched around the hilt of the burning blade. The flames along the sword’s edge roared hotter, reacting to his intent like a living creature.

The spirit paused mid-lunge, hovering just short of them. It stared at the sword with those corrupted, lifeless eyes—and hissed.

"I’ve got ten minutes," Liam muttered under his breath, eyes locked on the thing wearing Sophia’s skin. "Ten minutes before this runs out."

Without waiting for another threat, Liam made the first move.

He slashed toward it, wide and fast. The flames screamed across the air. The spirit shrieked and recoiled, teleporting backward in a blur of smoke and wind—but it didn’t flee. No, it circled. Reappearing behind him in a heartbeat.

Liam twisted on his heel and swung again—too late. She had vanished before the tip of the blade could reach her. Again, the pressure of wind on his left told him she was there, trying to strike. He pivoted, raised the sword just in time, and the spirit’s claws clanged off the wall of heat and fire the sword emitted.

Again. And again.

Teleport. Attack. Defend.

Teleport. Attack. Defend.

Each time she reappeared, she came faster, her movements more erratic, more vicious. But each time, Liam was there, sword slashing through the air, forcing her back. His arms began to hurt from the effort. Sweat dripped from his brow, but he didn’t blink. Didn’t falter.

Jason, now kneeling against the far wall, pressed his palm to the scratch across his shoulder and winced. "She’s moving too fast," he muttered, eyes darting. "Too damn fast."

"Keep your head down!" Marcus shouted. "Let Liam handle it!"

The spirit appeared again—this time, two feet above the ground, claws angled straight for Liam’s throat.

He ducked, stepped forward, and with one powerful swing, he drove the sword across her midsection. The blade didn’t make contact with flesh—but the fire did.

The edge of the flames licked her.

She screamed.

It wasn’t Sophia’s voice—it was something guttural, otherworldly. Like iron scraping against stone. She shrieked and stumbled backward, hair flying wildly, her body twitching as smoke rose from where the fire had touched.

"Back off her!" Von roared from the far end, raising himself with a hand on the wall, "You hear that, Liam? It’s working! Just keep pushing it!"

But the spirit wasn’t done.

It teleported again—this time to the ceiling, crawling along it like some monstrous insect, eyes burning with hatred. The wind in the room howled louder now, pressing against them from all sides. Stones rolled across the floor. Dust flew from the cracks.

"Ten minutes!" Liam reminded himself under his breath, stepping sideways, keeping the sword up between the others and the creature.

It dropped from the ceiling.

Another blow. Another dodge. Liam pivoted again and brought the sword up in a parry, fire roaring around him. The spirit shrieked, tried to sink her claws into his side, but couldn’t get close. The sword kept her at bay—barely.

Each strike, each teleport, each hiss of smoke and claw—it chipped away at Liam’s energy.

But he didn’t back down.

He’d promised to protect them. All of them. Even if that meant standing between the devil and the girl he loved, while the girl was still possessed by that devil’s ghost.

The flames crackled louder.

Liam growled and swung again.

"Come on then," he hissed, eyes narrowing. "Let’s see how long you can last."

And with fire in his hand and fury in his chest, he kept the demon from claiming another soul.

Liam’s grip tightened around the hilt of the blazing sword, his arms aching from the endless back-and-forth, every swing drawing heat from the core of the weapon, every clash stirring wind and fire around him. The flames still roared along the blade’s edge, as wild and unyielding as the fury in his chest, but his eyes... his eyes were not angry. They were conflicted. Torn. And it showed.

He wasn’t swinging to kill. Not really.

Every arc of the blade was precise, too controlled, too careful. He swung to warn, to force distance, to keep the spirit at bay. But never to strike deep. Never to cut.

Because behind those hollow, corrupted eyes... it was still her.

Sophia.

She was in there somewhere. Her face was pale, her lips stretched unnaturally when the spirit laughed, but her body—the body Liam had seen smile, had watched fight by his side, had caught when she fell and held when she cried—it was still hers. And he couldn’t bring himself to destroy that. Not even to save himself.

The others saw it too.

Jason, clutching his shoulder against the far wall, saw how Liam hesitated when the spirit came too close. How he twitched the sword just wide instead of swinging through. How he braced to protect, not to kill.

Marcus gritted his teeth, watching from behind. Mariel lay limp against his back, unconscious and unaware of the chaos unfolding. He shifted his weight slightly, murmuring, "He’s holding back..."

Von, still kneeling with one hand on the floor and the other clutched around his side where blood still oozed, watched with narrowed eyes. His voice was low, gravel-thick.

"He’s tryin’ not to hurt her."

And the spirit—damn thing—it knew.

It knew and it relished it.

It darted and twisted, teleporting faster now, fueled by rage and mockery. Each time it lunged, it did so with more force, daring Liam to strike harder. It was testing him. Taunting him.

At one point, it tried again—same trick as before—it raised a gust of wind with a flick of its hand, trying to extinguish the sword’s flame like it had done with the torch.

But nothing happened.

The fire on Liam’s blade didn’t even flicker.

The spirit froze mid-lunge, eyes narrowing with a twitch of surprise.

Liam saw it.

"You can’t put it out," he said aloud, voice firm but low. "Not this one."

The fire crackled in agreement, golden-orange and defiant. Alive.

He took a step forward, but still, he didn’t swing with force.

The spirit hissed, suddenly snarling at him with Sophia’s voice twisted and distorted. "You’re weak," it spat. "You’d rather let her die slowly than end this quickly. You’ll all die... because you love her."

Liam said nothing.

He couldn’t deny it.

Couldn’t even pretend to.

Instead, he glanced at the hilt of his sword, where the runes were starting to dim slightly—faint glimmers of red pulsing slower than before.

Five minutes.

He could feel it deep in his gut. Five minutes left.

And then the fire would be gone. The one thing they had—the one thing that had bought them time—would fade. And if that happened, they’d have nothing. No defense. No second chance.

Jason’s voice echoed from the corner. "Liam—how long do you have left?!"

Liam didn’t answer. His eyes were locked on the creature in front of him. On Sophia. On the flickers of her that still surfaced—between shrieks, between laughs, in the way her body tensed like she was fighting it from the inside.

But his silence was enough. Jason exhaled and looked at Marcus.

"Halfway," he muttered grimly.

Marcus’s jaw clenched. He stared at the back of Liam’s head, then at the sword, then at the thing across from them that still wore Sophia’s face like a mask.

They all knew what was coming.

And Liam... he just kept standing there, fire burning in his hand, heart breaking quietly behind his eyes, hoping—praying—there was still another way. A way to save her, without destroying her in the process.

But time was slipping away.

Fast.

And the fire wouldn’t burn forever.