The silence inside the small, dimly lit room felt suffocating. The rain outside had dulled to a quiet patter, but inside, the tension was as thick as the walls that surrounded them. Sarah sat on the cold floor, her arms wrapped protectively around Helena, who was still trembling from the events of the night. Their world had been upended, and it felt like they were falling deeper into an abyss of fear and confusion with every passing moment.
Marianne paced at the far side of the room, her gaze darting toward the door every few seconds. She was tense, her body wound tight like a coiled spring, ready to act at a moment's notice. The earlier attack had shaken even her, though she would never admit it. The hunters had been relentless, and though they were safe now, Sarah could see the gears turning in Marianne's mind. She was calculating, strategizing, preparing for the next inevitable threat.
Sarah's thoughts were a jumble of confusion and fear. She wanted to ask questions, but her throat felt dry, her mind too scattered to form coherent words. How had they survived? What had saved them? And most importantly—why?
Marianne's voice broke the silence, sharp and businesslike. "You both need to rest. We'll be moving again soon."
"Rest?" Sarah's voice came out hoarse, incredulous. "How can we rest when—" She stopped herself, glancing at Helena. The last thing she wanted was to panic her sister more than she already was.
Marianne stopped pacing and fixed her cold eyes on Sarah. "Because you don't have a choice. If you don't rest, you'll burn out. And when the time comes to move again, you'll be too weak to survive."
The brutal honesty of her words stung. Marianne was right. Their bodies were on the edge of collapse. But the fear pulsing through Sarah's veins made it impossible to relax. "They almost killed us," she said, her voice shaking. "Whoever they are, they're not going to stop."
"No," Marianne agreed, her expression hardening. "They won't."
Sarah felt the weight of those words like a punch to the gut. She stared at the floor, trying to process the reality of what they were up against. "Then why aren't we getting help?" she asked, her voice low but filled with frustration. "Why is it just you? If we're so important to… to the Lord, why aren't there more people protecting us?"
Marianne's eyes narrowed slightly, as though she had been waiting for this question. She folded her arms across her chest, her lips pressed into a thin line. "It's not that simple," she said, her tone measured.
Sarah frowned, her mind racing. Not that simple? "What does that mean? If we're in so much danger, why hasn't he sent his entire army to get us out of this?"
Marianne hesitated for the briefest moment, her eyes flickering with something Sarah couldn't quite place. It wasn't fear, but it was close. "There are… limitations," Marianne said carefully, choosing her words with precision. "The Lord's reach is vast, but it's not without its constraints. If he sends too many of his forces, it will draw attention."
"Attention?" Sarah asked, confused. "What kind of attention?"
Marianne let out a slow breath, her eyes locked on Sarah's. "There are other forces at play, Sarah. You and Helena aren't just being hunted by one group. There are multiple interests involved, and some of them have power that rivals even the Lord's."
Sarah's stomach twisted. "So he's hiding us," she realized aloud. "Even from his own people."
Marianne nodded. "If the Lord were to deploy his full army, it would trigger a response from his enemies. They'd see it as a declaration of war, and that's not something he can afford right now."
The room felt even colder as Sarah absorbed that information. "So we're just… bait? We're being kept low so no one notices?"
"Not bait," Marianne corrected. "But yes, the Lord is keeping his involvement in this as quiet as possible. The second he sends in more of his forces, it exposes you—and him. The people hunting you would know exactly where to strike, and they'd come with everything they have."
Sarah's head was spinning. It was too much to take in. "But why? Why us? What do we have to do with any of this?"
Marianne's face softened, though there was no sympathy in her eyes. "I don't have all the answers," she admitted. "But I do know that you and Helena are connected to something bigger. The Lord wouldn't go to such lengths to protect you if it wasn't important."
"Important?" Helena's voice, small and trembling, finally broke through the conversation. She had been silent for so long, but now her fear was surfacing, raw and vulnerable. "What could we possibly be important for? We're just… we're just two people. We've never done anything. We don't even know who these people are…"
Her voice cracked, and Sarah immediately pulled her closer, trying to comfort her, even though she felt just as lost.
Marianne watched them for a moment, her eyes unreadable. "The reasons don't matter right now. What matters is survival."
"But what if we don't want this?" Sarah snapped, the frustration and fear boiling over. "We didn't ask for this. We didn't ask to be hunted, or protected, or—any of this!"
Marianne's expression didn't change. "It doesn't matter what you want. This is the reality you're in now. You can either accept it and survive, or fight it and die."
The harshness of her words left Sarah speechless. She wanted to argue, to fight back against this twisted reality they had been thrust into. But deep down, she knew Marianne was right. They didn't have a choice. Not anymore.
There was a long, painful silence in the room. The weight of their situation pressed down on them like a suffocating blanket, making it hard to breathe. Helena's quiet sobs filled the space, each one cutting into Sarah like a blade.
"We can't stay here forever," Sarah said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. "What's the plan?"
Marianne's jaw tightened. "I have a contact nearby. Someone who can help. But we can't move until I know it's safe."
Sarah nodded, though the dread in her stomach only grew. More running. More hiding. And no real answers. It felt like they were trapped in a nightmare with no way out.
Marianne's gaze flicked toward the door again, her body tense. "Rest while you can," she said, her voice softer now. "It's going to get worse before it gets better."
The ominous tone in her voice sent a shiver down Sarah's spine. Worse. How could it possibly get worse?
Helena buried her face in Sarah's shoulder, her tears soaking through Sarah's shirt. "I'm scared," Helena whispered, her voice breaking. "I don't want to die, Sarah."
Sarah's heart ached as she held her sister tighter, fighting back her own tears. She had to be strong—for both of them. But the fear gnawed at her, relentless and unforgiving. How could she protect Helena when she didn't even know what they were up against?
"I won't let anything happen to you," Sarah whispered, though she wasn't sure if she believed her own words. "We'll get through this. Somehow."
Helena nodded, but the terror in her eyes hadn't lessened. They both knew the truth. Their world had changed, and there was no going back. Whatever this was—whatever nightmare they had been pulled into—it wasn't going to end anytime soon.
And the worst part was, they were completely in the dark.
Meanwhile – The Lord's Hidden Fortress
Far beneath the surface of the world, in the cold, steel heart of his command center, the Lord stood before a vast array of screens, his hands clasped behind his back. His sharp eyes scanned the feeds, watching every movement, every detail. He knew where Sarah and Helena were. He knew they were safe—for now.
But the situation was delicate. Too delicate.
His empire spanned continents. He commanded armies that could crush nations, agents that could infiltrate the highest levels of government, technology that could monitor every corner of the globe. And yet, despite his vast power, he had to tread carefully.
Sarah and Helena weren't just his sisters. They were the key to something much larger. Something that, if exposed too soon, would unravel everything he had built. The people hunting them were no ordinary enemies. They were part of a shadowy world as old and dangerous as his own. If they sensed his full involvement, they would strike, and the consequences would be catastrophic.
He couldn't risk that. Not yet.
The Lord's eyes flickered with the faintest hint of emotion—a brief flash of something that disappeared as quickly as it had come. He turned to the shadows behind him, where a figure stood, silent and watchful.
"Keep them safe," the Lord said, his voice as cold and sharp as the steel walls around him. "For now, we wait."
And as always, his command was followed without question.