My heart was a tempest of emotions, an intricate dance between sorrow, anger, and a profound sense of injustice. The very heavens and hells that held dominion over our lives seemed to conspire against us, exacting retribution for a love that dared to cross boundaries.
Unable to contain my anguish, I let out a lament for my parents, a fierce denunciation of the powers that had so cruelly separated them from me. Curses tumbled from my lips like a cascade, each word laden with a weight of bitter resentment and wounded love.
As the storm of my emotions began to subside, my attention returned to Mavka. A new question, a new concern, arose like a specter in my mind. "And Trish? What has become of my sister?" The words hung in the air, heavy with anticipation and dread.
Mavka's expression took on a mournful hue, a silent answer to the inquiry that had been left unspoken. The unspoken truth lingered between us, a truth that I was both hesitant and desperate to confirm. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I forged ahead, my voice barely more than a whisper. "Is Trish… is she no longer with us?"
Mavka's gaze met mine, her eyes conveying a blend of empathy and sympathy. She shook her head gently, her voice soft as a sigh, as if she was granting me a reprieve from an even darker fate. "No, she is not gone. But she faces a peril far worse ,she has been captured by Uriel, an angel of unparalleled cunning and danger."
My heart clenched, a mixture of emotions swirling within me a maelstrom of sorrow for her plight, a tinge of hope that she still breathed, and a burning determination to rescue her from the clutches of this formidable adversary.
A sense of urgency took hold, and Mavka's words snapped me back to the present. She extended a reassuring hand, her touch like a lifeline amid the chaos that had enveloped my world. "Do not despair," she said, her voice a gentle balm, "My friends and I are committed to rescuing your parents and sister. They will be safe once more."
The word "friends" echoed in my ears, a word imbued with an enigma that tugged at my curiosity. I turned my gaze to her, seeking answers, seeking clarity. "Friends?" I inquired, my tone a mixture of wonder and uncertainty.
A knowing smile played upon her lips, a prelude to secrets yet unveiled. "All will be revealed when we reach our hideout," she promised, her gaze locking with mine, igniting a spark of intrigue.
---------
Thirteen minutes had passed, since Mavka and I embarked on the journey toward the Secret hideout she had spoken of a place harbouring her friends, who, she assured me, would aid in the salvation of my father, mother, and sister. Amidst the obsidian night, our footsteps marked the only sound, a rhythmic duet harmonising with the distant wail of car sirens.
We navigated the nocturnal cityscape, sidestepping the well-lit thoroughfares and infiltrating the city's murkiest corners, a clandestine path designed to shield us from the prying eyes of potential onlookers. It was the swiftest route to our destination, one that promised minimal interaction and a chance to remain unnoticed.
"Are we close to the hideout?" I queried, an undertone of complaint woven into my words, my legs threatening to buckle beneath the weight of exhaustion.
Mavka, who strode ahead of me, turned her gaze back, her eyes lustrous with reassurance. "We're nearly there," she assured, her voice a soothing melody against the backdrop of the night, "The hideout's location will reveal itself before long."
Her words were like a balm to my weary soul. The prospect of arriving soon kindled a spark of relief within me. Had she indicated that we were still faraway from the hideout, I might have surrendered to the temptation of collapsing onto the pavement in sheer exhaustion. Thus, her assurance was a lifeline, injecting newfound vigor into my step and renewing my determination to persist in Mavka's wake.
Only a brief interval had elapsed when a voice, like a haunting echo, materialised from the shadows behind me. It was a plea, a cry for help from someone ensnared in the labyrinth of pain. My gaze flickered toward Mavka, my brows knitting together as I relayed what I had heard. "There's someone asking for assistance," I informed her, my voice carrying a mix of concern and curiosity.
Mavka, her movements fluid yet purposeful, reached for her dual handguns, already holstered at her waist, and without hesitation discharged rounds into the obscurity behind us. Her actions were swift, practised, a testament to her unwavering vigilance. Her words tumbled forth, laced with a solemn gravity that pierced through the still night air. "Never respond to those voices or turn to face them," she instructed firmly, "For they are demons, luring their prey with deceptive cries before snuffing out their lives, consuming their souls , they snuffled information from your heart making them a formidable enemy, even though they are weak ,the attack in the heart is far greater than what you will ever imagined."
The gravity of her warning bore down on me, its weight heightened by the understanding that even my immortal essence was not beyond the reach of these malevolent entities. Death was an inevitability that I could evade, but my soul was not invulnerable. It was my tether, my connection to the cycle of life and rebirth ,a vital element I could not afford to lose.
With Mavka's directive firmly etched in my mind, I resolved to resist the lure of the siren voices, to steel myself against the heart-rending pleas that sought to ensnare me. Yet, as fate would have it, amidst the rhythmic symphony of the night, a voice emerged, a voice that beckoned to the very core of my soul ,a voice that resembled my mother's. "Dante, come save me. My son, I miss you," the voice implored, its tender timbre tinged with the essence of maternal love.