"Promise me you'll make a choice of your own," Cyrus implored, his eyes searching Mariline's face for any sign of hesitation.
Mariline, now fully dressed, sat on the edge of the bed. Cyrus joined her, the weight of their conversation settling between them like a tangible presence. "It's not what you think," she began, her voice soft but steady. "I don't know who my parents are. The Bureau took me in when I was five. They taught me everything I know. I owe them everything. Without them, I'd probably be toiling away in the mines. They're the only family I've ever had."
Cyrus reached out, taking her hands in his. "Now I'm here," he said, his voice filled with a warmth that seemed to envelop them both.
A smile broke through Mariline's composure, tears trickling down her face. Cyrus's heart swelled with emotion as he pulled her into his embrace. She buried her face in his chest, her body shaking with silent sobs. "Don't worry," he murmured, his lips brushing against her forehead. "I'm here, and I always will be for you. I promise."
They remained locked in each other's arms, the world beyond their sanctuary fading into insignificance. As the minutes ticked by, their embrace loosened, but the connection between them seemed to have grown stronger.
The rest of the day unfolded like a dream. They cooked together, filling Mariline's apartment with the aroma of a sumptuous meal. Laughter echoed off the walls as they playfully danced around each other in the kitchen, stealing kisses and exchanging tender glances.
As evening descended, they sat at the dinner table, ready to savor the fruits of their labor. The moment was shattered by the shrill ring of Cyrus's phone, which lay prominently on the table. Leora's name flashed on the screen, a stark reminder of the world beyond their bubble.
Cyrus and Mariline exchanged a look, a thousand unspoken words passing between them. She nodded, giving him permission. With a twinge of guilt, Cyrus answered the call. His expression shifted as he listened, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. The Bites were preparing to retrieve the primordial canine – the very reason he had been accepted into their ranks. Despite his reluctance to face them, he knew he had to go. His father, still toiling in the mines, depended on it.
"Go," Mariline said, her voice tinged with resignation. "It was fun having you for a day." She leaned in, giving him a final kiss that spoke of longing and unfinished business.
"I'll be right back," Cyrus promised, his words hanging in the air as he stepped out of the apartment. Mariline's smile faltered as she closed the door behind him, the silence of her home suddenly oppressive.
Cyrus returned to the villa, his steps heavy with the weight of responsibility. Without preamble, he made his way to the Hall of Justice, a sense of dread creeping over him. His last visit to this place had ended poorly, and he couldn't shake the feeling that history might repeat itself.
The elders of the Bites were already assembled, their faces grave and expectant. The Queen, a figure of power and vitality, sat at the head of the gathering. Her imposing aura seemed to fill the entire hall, a testament to her recovered strength. Cyrus knew it was all for show, but he held his tongue. Her machinations were no longer his concern.
An elder's voice broke the tense silence. "The location of the primordial canine has been found. It lies beneath City Zero, in the depths of the Magma Stomach. It's a perilous place – a solitary venture would be certain death. We need a team of skilled Bites to enter the Magma Stomach and retrieve the primordial canine."
"I'll go," Cyrus declared, his voice ringing out with more confidence than he felt. His announcement was met with skeptical glances and murmured doubts.
"It's said you slept for a week after a few blows from little Neno," a Bite in the balcony sneered.
Cyrus's temper flared. "Little Neno? He could crush any of you in his primordial form. Even the Queen would have to kneel."
"Insolent!" an elder bellowed, rising to his feet.
The Prophet's measured voice cut through the rising tension like a cool breeze. "It doesn't matter. Cyrus, Leora, the Five, and I will go."
Another elder spoke up, his tone cautious. "It won't be enough. We all know the dangers of the Magma Stomach. Moreover, we can't discount the possibility of encountering the Bureau. We need more people. The Panther Canine excels at infiltration, and the Tiger Canine possesses formidable power."
All eyes turned to the Queen, awaiting her decision. Cyrus, for his part, cared little about who accompanied them, as long as the mission was completed swiftly.
The Queen's brow furrowed as she considered the suggestion. "You all know of the feud between the Panther and Lion Canines. And the Tiger Canine's territory is too distant – we don't have the time."
Her words were met with an unexpected challenge. "A feud that could have been avoided if a true Bite sat on that chair," a voice rang out. The crowd parted, revealing an elder who stood, his gaze fixed on the Queen with undisguised contempt.
The Queen's response was dismissive. "Your arrogance seems to have grown. Remove this thing from my sight," she said with a wave of her hand.
Two Bites emerged from behind the Queen – her most trusted subordinates, known for their unwavering loyalty and formidable strength. They never left her side when she ventured out, a testament to their importance in the hierarchy.
The dissenting elder, undeterred by their presence, pressed on. "Come out and fight me if you dare. Let's see if you're worthy of leading the Bites, or perhaps you're too afraid to fight?"
A tense silence fell over the assembly. The other elders remained seated, making no move to intervene despite the blatant disrespect being shown to their Queen. Cyrus observed the scene with growing interest, recognizing the telltale signs of a carefully orchestrated coup. "Looks like not everyone is happy to see her up there," he mused silently.
All attention returned to the Queen as she rose from her seat with a weary sigh. The challenger readied himself, his canines flashing in anticipation of battle. But the Queen merely smiled and snapped her fingers. In a blur of motion, her bodyguards sprang into action, pinning the elder to the ground with a thunderous impact that shook the very foundations of the hall.
"That is disloyal," the elder gasped, struggling against his captors. "You're too afraid to face me on your own."
The Queen approached with measured steps, each movement a statement of power and control. She crouched beside the prone elder, her hand flashing out in a movement too swift for most to follow. A collective gasp rippled through the crowd as the elder's throat was torn out, his lifeblood staining the polished floor.
Cyrus swallowed hard, his eyes fixed on the Queen's bloodied hand. Another Bite approached, bowing low as he offered her a towel. She cleaned her hands with deliberate slowness before tossing the soiled cloth back in the servant's face.
As she returned to her seat, a phalanx of Bites materialized around her, their auras pulsing with barely contained bloodlust. The Queen's voice, when she finally spoke, was chilling in its calm. "I don't need to prove anything to any of you. If you feel you're strong enough, I'm here. Take the seat."
Her challenge hung in the air, a dare that none seemed willing to accept. As Cyrus surveyed the room, he saw fear and respect warring on the faces of the assembled Bites. The Queen had reaffirmed her dominance in the most brutal way possible, leaving no doubt as to who truly held power in their world.