Elizabeth: Keeper of Infinite Doors by Jade Gretz

https://www.deviantart.com/jadegretzai/art/Elizabeth-Keeper-of-Infinite-Doors-1133307718

Amid the chaos of Battleship Bay, the water roiled and churned like a living thing under a blood-red sky, streaked with storm clouds that rumbled in angry bursts. An ominous tension hung thick in the air, an electric charge that seemed to pulse with every wave that crashed against the shore. The remnants of Columbia, a city of ideals now twisted into a grotesque parody of itself, loomed in the distance like a specter haunting the horizon. Yet here, Elizabeth stood, resolute and fierce, her blue dress fluttering wildly in the coastal wind as if it were trying to flee the scene unfolding before her.

The echoing sounds of freedom-seeking souls, desperately trying to escape the clutches of their oppressors, punctuated the tumult around her. They flowed like frantic fish caught in a net, scattering across the shore as the bloodthirsty minions of Comstock charged forward. Human forms, warped and twisted by their zealous loyalty to a fallen prophet, surged toward her like a dark tide, every face marred by hatred, every scream piercing the fog of war. But Elizabeth was no mere prey. She was a whirlwind of power, a spark of hope in a world of despair.

As the first wave crashed against the shoreline, Elizabeth closed her eyes for a moment, drawing in the chaos around her. She felt the hum of the tears, the threads of reality that danced just beyond her perception, waiting for her command. With a sudden surge of will, she reached out, and the air shimmered, bending to her intent. A rift tore open, a glimpse through to another world, a refuge untouched by the madness of Columbia. But this was no sanctuary; it was merely a portal to a more profound horror, a glimpse of what could come if she failed.

“Not today,” she whispered to the wind, and with that resolution, she stepped forward into the fray.

The first of her foes broke through the fog—a motorized patriot, its gears grinding, metallic limbs whirring as it lumbered toward her. Its once-heroic silhouette was now a grotesque mockery of valiance, a fallen soldier turned dreadnought. Elizabeth had no fear for the revolted soldier; she drew upon her power once again, a crackling energy gathering in her hands as she conjured a vortex of light. The ground trembled beneath her, the very sand seeming to come alive as it twisted and warped around the mechanical monster.

“Remember the revolution!” it bellowed, its voice a distorted shriek, echoing with the fervor of Comstock’s hellish propaganda. Elizabeth’s heart pounded against her ribcage, urging her to act decisively. She turned her fear into determination, her hands igniting the air with an ethereal brightness that pushed against the darkness looming around her. With a fierce thrust, she unleashed a surge of energy, the vortex expanding violently until it consumed the motorized behemoth.

Electricity crackled, sending out sparks like fireworks exploding in the night sky, and for a moment, time slowed as the Patriot's mechanical limbs jerked, frozen in her light. Then, with a deafening shatter, the vortex imploded, taking the creature with it. A final scream echoed through the ether, more despair than anger, signifying the end of yet another pawn.

Breathless, Elizabeth scanned the battlefield. In that moment of triumph, the relief was fleeting, quickly shattered by the sight of more foes pouring forth from the shadows. Figures clad in tattered remnants of their pasts surged towards her, their eyes wild with desperation. They were the Scavengers, citizens turned feral under the weight of their starvation, their bodies emaciated and frail but fueled by a primal instinct to survive.

A shiver ran down her spine, recognizing the horror that lurked within their hollowed eyes. Yet mercy evaded her thoughts; the survivors had been shaped into something horrific by the world they lived in. They were not the ones she fought against, but they would take lives if given a chance. Elizabeth grasped the silver locket around her neck, a talisman of her past, and closed her eyes once more, summoning the tears to allow her to change the course of fate.

Rifts speckled the air, shifting and flickering like glimpses into a stormy sky. She opened her eyes, determination crystallized in her heart as she pivoted. Sand and dust swirled around her, forming shapes, shadows, and figures in response to her summons. Whispers carried on the wind—ear then dissipated into nothingness, bringing forth her third show of force.

As the first rank of Scavengers lunged forward, Eliza
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