Elizabeth: Echoes of a Forgotten World by JadeGretzAI on DeviantArt (original) (raw)

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Elizabeth: Echoes of a Forgotten World by Jade Gretz

Elizabeth and the Clash in the Clouds of Columbia:

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The sky over Columbia was a sprawling canvas of deep blues and fiery oranges, as if the heavens themselves were on fire. The floating city, with its grandiose architecture and shimmering spires, seemed like a dream that had floated too far into the sky, far from the earth and far from sanity. Elizabeth stood on the edge of a balcony, the wind tugging at her raven-black hair, her sharp blue eyes narrowing as she surveyed the chaos unfolding below.

The city was burning.

Plumes of smoke rose from the lower districts, the sounds of gunfire and explosions echoing through the air like the tolling of a death knell. The once-pristine streets were now stained with blood, and the screams of the innocent mingled with the shouts of the wicked. Columbia had always been a city on the brink of madness, but now, it had finally tipped over the edge.

Elizabeth’s heart ached as she watched the carnage, her hands gripping the balcony’s railing until her knuckles turned white. She had seen the city’s ugliness before, the way it masked its cruelty with grandeur, but this… this was something else. This was war. And it was all because of her.

Booker was down there, somewhere in the maelstrom, fighting for his life and for hers. He had always been her protector, her guide, but now he was the one who needed saving. And Elizabeth knew that if she didn’t act, if she didn’t find a way to stop the bloodshed, then Columbia would be reduced to nothing more than a memory, a tragic tale told in hushed whispers.

She took a deep breath, steeling herself for what was to come. The Luteces had warned her of the dangers, the ripples she would cause in the fabric of reality if she used her powers too recklessly. But what choice did she have? The city was tearing itself apart, and she was the only one who could stop it.

Elizabeth stepped away from the balcony, her thoughts racing as she formulated a plan. She needed to get to the center of the conflict, to the heart of the city where the fighting was fiercest. If she could open a Tear there, something powerful enough to shift the tide of battle, then maybe—just maybe—she could save Columbia from itself.

But it wouldn’t be easy. The city was a labyrinth of floating platforms, skyhooks, and ziplines, and the streets below were crawling with soldiers, both from Comstock’s forces and the Vox Populi. To navigate it would be like threading a needle through a storm, but Elizabeth was determined. She had come too far, lost too much, to back down now.

She crossed the room to where a small, ornate chest lay on a table. Inside was her most prized possession—a hand-held device that allowed her to open Tears in reality, portals to other dimensions, other possibilities. She picked it up, feeling its weight in her hand, and then slipped it into the pocket of her dress. It was time.

Elizabeth made her way down the winding staircases of the tower, her footsteps echoing off the marble walls. The sounds of the battle grew louder as she descended, the air thick with the smell of smoke and blood. When she reached the ground floor, she hesitated for just a moment, gathering her courage before pushing open the heavy wooden doors.

The scene that greeted her was one of utter devastation. Buildings lay in ruins, their once-majestic facades now crumbling and charred. The streets were littered with debris, the bodies of the fallen strewn about like discarded dolls. The sky was darkening, the sun obscured by thick clouds of smoke, and the air was filled with the acrid stench of burning metal and flesh.

Elizabeth pressed forward, weaving her way through the chaos. Her heart pounded in her chest as she ran, her eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of Booker. But there was nothing—only the sounds of gunfire and the cries of the wounded. She felt a pang of despair, but she pushed it down, focusing on the task at hand. She had to reach the center of the city, to the Hall of Heroes, where the fighting was most intense.

As she neared the plaza, she spotted a group of Vox Populi soldiers huddled behind a barricade, exchanging fire with Comstock’s men. Elizabeth ducked behind a nearby wall, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. She had no weapon, no way to defend herself if she was caught in the crossfire. But she had something else—something far more powerful.

She closed her eyes and concentrated, feeling the familiar tingle at the back of her mind as she reached out with her powers. The air around her seemed to shimmer and warp, reality bending to her will as she focused on a single point in space. With a sharp, tearing sound, a rift appeared before her, a Tear in the fabric of the universe. Through it, she could see another world, another version of Columbia, one where the Vox had already won the battle.

Elizabeth took a deep breath and stepped through the Tear, the world around her shifting and changing as she crossed into the new reality. The sounds of battle faded, replaced by an eerie silence. She opened her eyes and found herself in the same plaza, but now it was empty, the bodies of the dead littering the ground. The buildings were still standing, but they were riddled with bullet holes, the windows shattered.

She moved quickly, knowing that the Tear wouldn’t last long. She needed to find Booker, to get to him before the Tear closed and she was trapped in this world. As she made her way through the deserted streets, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was watching her, something malevolent lurking just out of sight.

The sky above was an ominous gray, the clouds swirling in unnatural patterns. The air was thick with tension, as if the city itself was holding its breath. Elizabeth quickened her pace, her heart pounding in her chest. She could feel the Tear beginning to weaken, the edges of the rift flickering like a dying flame.

Finally, she reached the Hall of Heroes, its grand entrance flanked by statues of Columbia’s founding fathers. The doors were ajar, and she could hear the faint sound of voices coming from within. She slipped inside, her footsteps echoing off the marble floors.

The Hall was dimly lit, the flickering gas lamps casting long shadows across the walls. The air was thick with the smell of gunpowder and blood, and Elizabeth could see the bodies of soldiers scattered across the floor. She moved cautiously, her eyes scanning the room for any sign of Booker.

As she rounded a corner, she saw him.

Booker was slumped against a wall, his shirt stained with blood, his breathing labored. He looked up as she approached, his eyes widening in surprise.

“Elizabeth…” he rasped, his voice weak.

“Booker!” Elizabeth rushed to his side, her heart racing. She knelt beside him, her hands hovering over his wounds, unsure of what to do. “We need to get you out of here.”

He shook his head, his eyes filled with pain. “It’s too late… I’m done for…”

“No,” she said firmly, her voice trembling. “I won’t let you die.”

Booker reached out and grabbed her hand, his grip weak but insistent. “Listen to me… You have to go… You have to stop this… before it’s too late…”

Tears welled up in Elizabeth’s eyes as she looked at him, her heart breaking. “I can’t leave you.”

“You have to,” he whispered. “You’re the only one who can fix this… You’re the only one who can save Columbia…”

Elizabeth bit her lip, her mind racing. She knew he was right, but the thought of leaving him here to die was unbearable. She had already lost so much, and now she was about to lose the only person who had ever truly cared for her.

But she couldn’t let his sacrifice be in vain. She couldn’t let Columbia fall into ruin. She had to do something, anything, to stop the madness.

She squeezed his hand, her voice choked with emotion. “I’ll stop this, Booker. I promise.”

He nodded weakly, his eyes closing as he slumped against the wall. Elizabeth felt a surge of panic, but she forced herself to stay calm. She couldn’t afford to break down now.

With a final glance at Booker, she turned and ran, her heart pounding in her chest. The Tear was beginning to close, the rift in reality shrinking with each passing second. She could feel the world shifting around her, the boundaries between dimensions blurring as the Tear destabilized.

She had to act fast.

As she reached the center of the Hall, she closed her eyes and concentrated, drawing on every ounce of her power. The air around her shimmered and warped, the walls of the Hall distorting as reality bent to her will. She focused on a single point, a nexus of energy where the Tear had first formed, and with a sharp, tearing sound, she reopened the rift.

The Tear expanded, the rift widening into a portal that connected two worlds. Through it, Elizabeth could see another version of Columbia, one where the battle had never happened, where the city was still whole.

But there was something else, something dark and twisted lurking within the Tear. Elizabeth could feel it, a presence that sent chills down her spine. It was as if the Tear had opened a doorway to something far more sinister than she could have imagined.

Before she could react, the darkness surged through the Tear, a writhing mass of shadows that coiled and twisted like a living thing. Elizabeth stumbled back, her heart racing as the shadows

took form, solidifying into a monstrous shape that towered over her.

It was a creature born of nightmares, a twisted amalgamation of flesh and metal, its body bristling with jagged spikes and razor-sharp blades. Its eyes glowed with a sickly green light, and its mouth was filled with rows of jagged teeth.

Elizabeth’s breath caught in her throat as the creature advanced on her, its movements slow and deliberate, as if savoring the moment. She could feel its malevolent gaze boring into her, its presence suffocating, oppressive.

She knew she couldn’t fight it—not with brute force. But she had something the creature didn’t: her mind, her intellect, her ability to manipulate reality. She just had to think, to outmaneuver it.

As the creature lunged at her, Elizabeth opened another Tear, this one leading to a world where the laws of physics were different, where gravity was reversed. The creature stumbled as the ground beneath it shifted, its massive form lifted off the floor as it was pulled toward the ceiling.

Elizabeth didn’t waste a second. She opened another Tear, this one leading to a world filled with fire and brimstone. The creature howled in agony as it was engulfed in flames, its flesh bubbling and melting as the fire consumed it.

But it wasn’t enough. The creature was resilient, its body regenerating even as the flames burned it. Elizabeth could feel her strength waning, the effort of maintaining multiple Tears taking its toll on her. She needed to end this, and fast.

With a final burst of energy, she opened a Tear to a world where the creature didn’t exist, where its very essence was incompatible with reality. The creature let out a deafening roar as it was pulled through the Tear, its body disintegrating into nothingness as it was torn apart by the fabric of the universe.

And then, just as quickly as it had begun, it was over.

The Tear closed with a soft pop, the air around Elizabeth returning to normal. She collapsed to the floor, her body trembling with exhaustion. The Hall was silent now, the only sound the ragged gasps of her own breath.

She had won. Columbia was saved. But at what cost?

As she lay there, her mind numb with fatigue, Elizabeth couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed, something fundamental in the fabric of reality. The Tear had been more than just a portal—it had been a gateway, a bridge between worlds. And in opening it, she had unleashed something far more dangerous than she could have ever imagined.

But that was a problem for another time. Right now, all she wanted to do was rest.

Elizabeth closed her eyes, letting the darkness take her as the world faded away, her mind drifting into a dreamless sleep.

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The End

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