In Blackest Night

[Shang Tsung]

As they continued their journey, Atelos seemed to gradually revert back to his normal self. For his part, Shang left the Spartan alone for much of the next day, allowing his ally to have some time for himself. With the machine-child and the darkspawn behind them, Argento’s retinue continued its march into the interior of the Pale Moors. Three hours after packing up what remained of the camp, they exited the forest onto what looked to be—for all intents and purposes—a highly decayed street. Not just a normal street, but a somewhat modern street. Shang raised the point to the paladin, who would only remark that they were ‘in Silent Hill country.’

The weathered and faded street wound through what was now called the ‘Raccoon Forest.’ Aside from some far-away moans and growls, the path was calm and uneventful. Fortunately for Shang’s sake, the party remained quiet as a means to ensure they didn’t detect any unwanted company. As the sun began to dip beneath the gray sky, Argento threw up his fist to signal the column to stop.

“What is it?” One of the priests whispered as he walked up to the armored warrior.

The paladin looked over his shoulder at the old scholar and furrowed his brow. “We’re almost there… the point where it will be impossible to turn back.” Although he spoke softly, Shang was close enough to hear that even his exalted ‘leader’ seemed to have a degree of anxiety about whatever lay on the path ahead of them. When the paladin next spoke, his voice was devoid of any such wavering—the perfect tone he needed to address the entire crowd. “This is the last chance for any of you to leave and return to Darkshire.

“From this point forward, I cannot promise you anything. We are following in the footsteps of lunatics and madmen and entering a place haunted by living nightmares and untold horrors both real and imagined. I will think no less of anyone who decides not to follow me. You are all brave for even having come this far.

“I march ahead knowing that He, the Almighty, shall watch over me, as he has done all my life. It is with firm conviction that I march onward.”

And just like that, Argento turned around and continued to walk as if he hadn’t just given a rousing speech to ‘his troops.’ For someone who was supposed to have sworn off the finer things in life, the paladin sure had a commanding knack for theatrics. Furthermore, the paladin also had a group of loyal men and women following him, because not a single one of them wavered in following Argento down the cracked asphalt path. Before he moved on, Shang glanced over at Atelos, who simply nodded his head.

Now at the rear of the column, the two warriors—Darkshire’s finest new garrison recruits—walked in silence as the party rounded a bend in the road. Up ahead, Shang noticed that the street vanished into what appeared to be a wall of fog. A quick glance to his peripherals revealed that the fog permeated the surrounded forests but terminated at the same place as it did with the street. It was almost as if it was marking the boundary of a country.

I suppose it is… Shang mused as he recalled the stories about how the town had been wholly consumed in the thick, white fog.

“Be brave, everyone… I will see you on the other side,” Argento boomed as he strode forward into the fog. He was followed by the rest of his retinue, until at last Shang and Atelos stood just outside boundary of the fog layer.

“What do you think we’ll find beyond this, Sorcerer?”

“Answers?” Shang replied, although his tone betrayed the fact that he was only guessing at what really resided in the town. “Now we only need to figure out what the question is.”

Without another word, Shang and Atelos stepped through the fog.

There was a fleeting sensation of cold before the opaqueness cleared away, revealing the fact that the forest only continued for another hundred feet. Aside from the thin layer of fog and a slight temperature drop, Shang felt no different than he had ten seconds ago.

Moving forward to catch up with Atelos and the rest of the paladin’s party, the sorcerer glanced around to see that the trees had been hiding the fact that they had descended into a shallow valley. Jagged little hills covered in snow—Snow?—jutted up to their left, and to their right, the trees gave way to a plain that stretch about a hundred yards before the fog became too thick to see any further. Both sides of the street were now provided with guardrails, which cemented the sorcerer’s belief that they were at least somewhat modern roads.

Up ahead, a massive sign jutted up on an old, partially weathered billboard. Inscribed in large, faded letters was the phrase ‘Welcome to Silent Hill.’ A few of paladin’s followers had stopped to glance up at it. Shang spotted Atelos a few yards ahead of him, but as the sorcerer opened his mouth to speak, he noticed the look of confusion on the Spartan’s face. Even more disconcerting was the fact that his eyes were firmly glued on something behind Shang.

“What?” The sorcerer inquired, but rather than a response, Atelos simply raised a finger and pointed back toward the forest. With a scowl, Shang turned around and saw what was behind the consternation on the face of the Spartan.

The road was gone.

Hell, the forest was gone.

It was like an earthquake had torn apart the ground and sunk half of it into the abyss, because about twenty feet in front of the Silent Hill sign, the entire world now just dropped off into the fog.