Weeks later, after evading capture and planning her next move, she had heard whispers of a grand slave auction taking place—a notorious event where the rich and powerful bought and sold human lives. Her stomach turned at the thought, she had to infiltrate it, and so, Lyra found herself in disguise, wearing the garb of a slaver. Her destination: the grand auction, where slaves were sold to the highest bidder in a grotesque display of wealth and power.
The auction was held in a massive, underground amphitheater, filled with nobles, mages, and other high-ranking buyers. Lyra, her face hidden beneath a hooded cloak, made her way to the stage. She had learned that this very auction house was connected to the lab that had birthed her—a place that trafficked not just in slaves but in crafted women, it seemed they had managed to create more after her, all the more reason to destroy this place.
The grand hall was dimly lit, the air thick with the stench of sweat and greed. At the center of the stage, the auctioneer—a tall man draped in ornate robes—stood with a satisfied grin as buyers settled into their seats. The crowd was restless, murmurs filling the room as they anticipated the next prize to be paraded in front of them.
Lyra, hidden beneath a long, tattered cloak, stood just off stage. Her pulse was steady, her mind sharp. This was her moment, the stage where she would make her move. The auctioneer's voice boomed over the hall.
"And now, the final item of the evening!" His voice was slick, oily. "A rare, exquisite beauty. You've never seen anything like her before! Bidding starts soon."
Lyra stepped onto the stage, her face hidden beneath the hood. The crowd fell silent, intrigued. The auctioneer looked her over, his greedy eyes shining as he turned to her, his voice lowering so only she could hear.
"Play along, girl. Put on a show, and you'll fetch a high price."
Lyra didn't respond immediately, but the coldness in her silence caught his attention. She slowly lifted her head, letting the hood fall back to reveal her face. Her blue eyes, fierce and calculating, locked onto his. The auctioneer frowned, sensing something off.
"You've been made for this moment," he whispered, leaning closer, his breath hot and sickening. "Don't forget your place."
Lyra's lips curled into a chilling smile, one that sent a shiver through the auctioneer despite his years of dealing with the most dangerous of creatures. "My place?" she said, her voice soft but sharp, each word slicing through the thick air. "You think I've been made into something you control?"
The auctioneer blinked, taken aback by the calm venom in her tone. "What are you playing at?" His voice wavered now, unsure.
Lyra stepped closer, her voice steady, each word laced with intent. "You stand there, parading lives like possessions, believing power comes from money and chains." She tilted her head, eyes narrowing. "But power, real power, is something you can't buy or sell. You control nothing but the illusion you've built for yourself."
The auctioneer's face darkened. "Careful, girl. This isn't some philosophical debate. You're property. I sell you, you obey. That's how this works."
Lyra let out a soft, almost pitying chuckle. "Property?" Her voice dropped, deadly calm. "You believe the chains you forge in gold and iron are unbreakable. But they're not. They're only as strong as the illusion that holds them togheter."
The auctioneer, now visibly unsettled, took a step back. "What are you—"
Lyra's eyes glinted with cold fire. "You think yourself a master, auctioneer, but you're a slave to your own greed. You are bound by the same chains you think hold others." She leaned in, her voice dropping to a near whisper. "The difference between you and me… is that I'm going to break mine." Her voice turned louder. "Now, about that show you said to put on…"
He barely had time to react before Lyra's hand shot out, grabbing him by the throat. The crowd gasped, confused murmurs spreading through the room. The auctioneer's eyes widened in shock, his hands clawing at hers as he tried to speak, to call for help, but her grip tightened like a vice.
"Good enough?," she continued, her voice soft and lethal, "and now, your life is going to flash before your eyes."
With a flick of her wrist, she sent a pulse of magic surging into him. The auctioneer's eyes bulged as his body seized, a spark of light flashing through him. He choked, his breath gurgling, his body shaking uncontrollably. Lyra stepped back, releasing him, watching as he collapsed to the floor in a heap, his once smug face now contorted in agony.
The room went silent, every eye locked on her.
Lyra straightened, her voice echoing through the stunned hall. "Don't worry, you'll be joining him very soon, and a word of advice for some of you, next time, maybe just keep it in your pants".