I watched the figures vanish into the shadows below, their presence still pressing against me like a tangible weight. Every nerve screamed for me to retreat, to disappear before I got entangled further in whatever this was. But I stayed. I had to. I couldn't leave without understanding more.
The taller figure's words echoed in my mind: The Blade—secure it, protect it at all costs. The urgency in his voice was unsettling, his tone drenched in a gravity that hinted at something far beyond mere survival. Whatever the Blade was, it wasn't just a weapon. It was something more, something pivotal, and they knew it. That made it dangerous.
I shifted slightly, keeping my movements silent, my breathing steady. The vent beneath me felt confining, but it offered the perfect vantage point. Their conversation replayed in my head, and with each repetition, the web grew more tangled. The Blade. The War. The Weapons. Everything was connected, but I didn't have the full picture yet.
Sage had asked me why I was doing this, why I was out here risking everything. At the time, I didn't have a clear answer for her. Maybe I still didn't. But now, it felt different. It wasn't just about survival—it was about understanding. About uncovering the truth behind the chaos, behind the fall of everything. If the Blade was at the center of it, then I needed to find it, to know why it mattered so much.
The vent creaked slightly ahead of me, and I froze, holding my breath. Someone was coming. The light below flickered briefly, casting shifting shadows that danced across the walls. My pulse quickened, but I stayed perfectly still, melting into the darkness.
Footsteps echoed below—slow, deliberate—and then a voice, just low enough that I had to strain to hear it. The taller one. His tone carried the same commanding weight as before.
"Check the perimeter," he ordered. "If anyone's here, I want them neutralized. No exceptions."
The boots grew louder, closer, until they stopped directly beneath me. I felt the tension coil in my chest like a spring ready to snap. My muscles locked, and I waited. If they found me now, I wouldn't stand a chance. Not against them. Not yet.
After what felt like an eternity, the footsteps moved on. I exhaled slowly, the faint sound swallowed by the hum of machinery around me. My window was closing. If I didn't act soon, I'd lose any opportunity to learn more.
I inched forward through the vent, careful to avoid even the smallest noise. The air felt thick, almost oppressive, as if the room itself knew the weight of the secrets it held. The farther I crawled, the more the space opened up beneath me, revealing a cavernous room filled with glowing screens and advanced technology that felt centuries ahead of anything I'd seen before.
The two figures from before stood near a central console, their postures tense. I could hear snippets of their conversation now, though the words were still fragmented.
"Do you think he knows?" the smaller one asked, her voice sharp with urgency.
"No," the taller one replied, his tone as cold as steel. "But we can't risk it. The Blade must stay in our control. No one else can have it."
The mention of "he" grabbed my attention. Who were they talking about? And why was the Blade so vital that it couldn't fall into anyone else's hands?
I studied them as I crept closer, letting my eyes adjust to the dim light. The taller one was built like a fortress, his physique a perfect blend of strength and efficiency. His armor was sleek, dark, and fitted, with faintly glowing lines that pulsed rhythmically, like veins feeding life into him. It wasn't just armor—it was part of him, a symbiotic extension of his being. The smaller one was more compact but no less dangerous. Her movements were quick and deliberate, her eyes constantly scanning the room as if she expected an attack at any moment.
The Blade. It wasn't just a weapon. It was something else entirely. Something that made even these two, with their immense presence and power, uneasy.
I had to know more. But the timing wasn't right. I needed to wait, to watch. Rushing in now would only get me killed.
Patience. That was the game now. I didn't enjoy it, but it was necessary. As much as I hated to admit it, I wasn't ready to face them directly. Not yet.
But the questions burned in my mind. What was the Blade? How powerful was it? Why did they fear losing it so much? Was it a key to something greater, or was it the very thing holding this fractured world together?
The answers were here, somewhere in this labyrinth of technology and shadows. And I would find them. No matter what it took.
I continued crawling through the vents, the metallic surface beneath me groaning faintly with each shift of my weight. Every movement required precision—one slip, one sound out of place, and I'd be discovered. The hum of machinery echoed around me, mixing with the distant murmur of voices and the faint rhythm of footsteps.
The deeper I went, the more I realized this place was a fortress. Walls of metal reinforced with intricate designs stretched endlessly, illuminated by a soft, pulsing blue light. Each vent led to another shadowed corner, another glimpse into the sprawling complexity of the city's interior.
Finally, I found myself peering into a room that stood out from the rest. It wasn't like the sterile corridors or the technological control centers I had seen before. This space felt… different. Personal, in a way. The walls were lined with strange artifacts—ornate blades, shards of glowing crystal, and mechanical components I couldn't begin to understand. A central table dominated the room, scattered with maps, data pads, and what looked like schematics of the building itself.
I scanned the area carefully, my instincts sharp. There were no visible guards, no cameras, nothing to suggest this room was being actively monitored. Yet it felt important. Too important to be left unguarded.
I paused, letting my eyes adjust to the dim light. From my vantage point, I could see faint markings etched into the walls, symbols that looked both ancient and impossibly complex. They pulsed faintly with the same light as the crystals on the table, as if they were alive, breathing in sync with the room.
I leaned forward slightly, analyzing every detail, every possible clue. Was this connected to the Blade? Or was it something else entirely? The artifacts, the symbols, the energy radiating from the objects—it all screamed of significance.
Then, I heard it: the unmistakable sound of boots on metal. Slow, deliberate steps, each one reverberating through the silence like a drumbeat.
My heart stopped for a moment as the door to the room hissed open, revealing the taller figure.
He entered with a presence that made the air feel heavier. Up close, his aura was suffocating, pressing against my senses like a tidal wave. His movements were precise, deliberate, as if every step had been planned in advance. He walked to the table, his back to me, studying the objects laid out before him.
For a moment, I thought I'd been spotted. My muscles tensed, and I held my breath, staying as still as possible. But he didn't turn toward the vent. Instead, he reached out and picked up one of the artifacts—a small, glowing shard of crystal.
He turned it over in his hands, his fingers brushing the surface like it was something sacred.
"The Blade's resonance," he muttered, his voice low but audible. "It's growing stronger. We don't have much time."
I narrowed my eyes, straining to hear more. He set the shard down and tapped a few commands into one of the data pads on the table. A holographic projection flared to life, displaying a map of the city. Markers and symbols dotted the layout, each one glowing with the same pulsing light as the artifacts.
His gaze lingered on one particular point—a marker near the city's outskirts. He stared at it for a long moment, his expression unreadable.
"Everything depends on this," he said quietly, almost to himself. "If the Blade falls into the wrong hands…"
He didn't finish the thought, but the weight of his words hung in the air.
I stayed perfectly still, my mind racing. The Blade's resonance was growing stronger. What did that mean? And what was at that marker on the map?
The figure turned away from the table and began pacing the room, his steps slow but filled with purpose. I couldn't make out his face beneath the shadow of his armor, but his presence was enough to keep me rooted in place.
"Mercier won't stop," he said, his tone colder now. "If he finds it before we do… there won't be a world left to save."
Mercier. The name hit me like a punch to the gut. That name wasn't unfamiliar—it was a name tied to chaos, destruction, and ambition. If Mercier was involved, then the stakes were higher than I'd imagined.
I clenched my fists, forcing myself to stay calm. This wasn't the time to act. I needed more information—about the Blade, about Mercier, about everything.
The taller figure stopped pacing and turned back to the table, his hand hovering over the artifacts. He muttered something under his breath—too low for me to catch—before straightening and heading toward the door.
The room fell silent again as the door hissed shut behind him, leaving me alone with the strange energy that seemed to radiate from every corner of the space.
I exhaled slowly, my mind spinning with questions. Whatever this Blade was, it wasn't just a tool or a weapon. It was something far more significant—something that could tip the balance of power in this fractured world.
And now, I knew exactly where I needed to go next. That marker on the map—the outskirts of the city. If the Blade's resonance was growing stronger, then that's where I would find the answers.
Sliding back into the vent, I began my descent, my mind set on the path ahead.
I dropped down from the vent with the grace of a shadow, my boots landing soundlessly on the cold metal floor. The room felt even heavier now, the artifacts and strange symbols pressing against my senses. Everything about this place screamed danger, but I couldn't resist analyzing it further.
The symbols on the walls seemed to pulse faster as I moved, responding to my presence in a way that made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. The artifacts on the table glimmered faintly, their surfaces reflecting fragments of light that didn't seem to come from any visible source. Each object seemed imbued with an energy that was both alien and eerily familiar.
I approached the central table cautiously, my eyes darting between the maps and glowing shards. This room wasn't just a storage space—it was a hub, a command center of sorts. Every piece of information here was vital, and I couldn't afford to leave without learning something crucial.
Just as I reached out to examine one of the data pads, a sound cut through the silence like a blade—heavy, deliberate footsteps echoing from the corridor beyond. My muscles tensed, and I turned, already expecting what was to come.
The door hissed open, and the taller figure strode in, his aura crashing into me like a tidal wave. He didn't hesitate, didn't speak. His eyes locked onto me with an intensity that burned, and I knew he'd been expecting this moment just as much as I had.
Without warning, he lunged forward, his fist shooting out with devastating speed. The air around his punch seemed to warp, the sheer force of it threatening to tear the very fabric of the room.
I moved on instinct, twisting my body to the side just in time. His fist missed my face by a hair's breadth, the shockwave from the strike ripping through the air and slamming into the wall behind me, shattering a row of artifacts into glowing fragments.
"Predictable," I muttered, my voice calm despite the surge of adrenaline coursing through me.
Before he could recover, I gripped the hilt of my blade and dashed forward, the movement so quick it was almost imperceptible. The edge of my blade gleamed with lethal precision as I struck, the sound of metal slicing through flesh reverberating through the room.
The taller figure staggered, his arm severed cleanly at the elbow. Sparks flew from the wound, mingling with a strange, dark liquid that didn't look entirely human.
He didn't cry out. Instead, he straightened, his remaining hand reaching for the stump of his arm as if testing its durability. The faintest smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, as if losing an arm was nothing more than an inconvenience.
"So," he said, his voice low and calm, "you're more than just a curious pest."
I didn't respond. My blade gleamed with a faint, unnatural glow as I held it at the ready, watching his every move. He was assessing me, calculating his next move, and I wasn't about to let him take the upper hand.
The symbols on the walls pulsed faster, reacting to the tension in the air. The artifacts on the table began to tremble, their energy resonating with the atmosphere. It was as if the room itself was alive, feeding off the conflict between us.
The taller figure took a step forward, his presence as overwhelming as ever despite his injury. "You don't know what you're dealing with," he said, his tone sharp and commanding. "Walk away now, and I'll consider letting you live."
I tightened my grip on the blade, my mind racing through the possibilities. He wasn't bluffing—he was powerful, dangerous, and clearly holding back. But I couldn't back down now. Not when I was this close to uncovering the truth.
"I've heard enough," I said coldly, my voice steady. "The Blade, Mercier, this entire war—it all ties back to you, doesn't it?"
His smirk widened, but there was no amusement in his eyes. "You're bold," he said. "I'll give you that. But boldness without understanding is nothing more than foolishness."
He raised his remaining hand, and the air around him began to crackle with energy. The room trembled, the symbols on the walls flaring to life as the artifacts on the table erupted with light.
I braced myself, the weight of his power pressing down on me like a physical force. This wasn't going to be an easy fight—but I wasn't about to let him stand in my way.