In a dimly lit chamber, a group of masked individuals sat around a long table. The atmosphere was thick with tension, their shadows dancing on the stone walls. A man at the head of the table, his presence commanding, slammed a map of the city onto the surface. "Is this the plan, Roberto?" one of them asked hesitantly.
"Yes," Roberto replied, his voice cold and deliberate. He waved his hand over the map, and flames sprang to life, engulfing the marked outline of Mirkdusk. The light from the burning map illuminated his hardened features. "This is the plan that will give us what we've always wanted—vengeance."
Another man, Roa, leaned forward, his voice uncertain. "Could you repeat the plan? I need to announce it to the others."
Roberto's gaze darkened. "Roa, weren't you listening? This plan is everything! It's what we've been fighting for. Vengeance. And you forgot?"
"I didn't forget," Roa replied quickly, his tone defensive.
"Fine," Roberto growled, exasperated. He pointed at the map, tracing the city's layout with his finger. "Listen carefully this time. First, some of us will infiltrate the city and camp in the center. The rest will position themselves at the gates. The Carnival of Forgotten Faces will ensure there are no guards. When night falls, the team at the gates will attack, drawing the city's defenses outward. With their attention divided, the infiltrators inside will spread chaos, forcing the people to scatter."
He clenched his fist, his voice rising with fervor. "Then, the outside team will join the chaos inside, and we will make our move. We will announce to the people of Mirkdusk: it's either they die or work for us. They'll choose survival. They'll submit. And once we control the city, we'll make them pay for everything they've done to us."
Roberto reached up, removing his mask to reveal a jagged scar running across his face. His voice dropped to a menacing whisper. "We'll make them suffer. They underestimated us, but we'll correct that mistake."
The room erupted in murmurs of agreement, their determination palpable.
Meanwhile, in the dead of night, Kazuki lay awake in the quiet of his inn room. He turned on his side with a groan. "Damn, I can't sleep," he muttered. Staring at the ceiling, he recalled the upcoming Carnival of Forgotten Faces. Two days to go. Something feels off about this city, he thought.
Unlike Aldoria and Veridonne, where the air bristled with toxicity and drunken revelry, Mirkdusk was eerily quiet. The people were friendly, almost too perfect, but at night, the streets were deserted, and even the innkeeper rarely showed his face. Kazuki's brows furrowed. No shouting. No late-night guild gatherings. It's... unnatural.
Unable to shake the unease, Kazuki sat up. "Maybe a midnight walk will help clear my mind—or at least make me tired."
He grabbed his mask and slid it into place. As he crept down the stairs, the creak of the wooden steps echoed in the silence. Just as he reached the door, a voice startled him.
"Where are you going? Shouldn't you be asleep?"
Kazuki turned sharply to see the innkeeper standing in the shadows, his face obscured by a mask. Kazuki narrowed his eyes. "None of your business. And since when did you start wearing a mask?"
The innkeeper tilted his head, his movements unnatural. "I've always worn a mask."
Kazuki stiffened. His mind raced. He wasn't wearing a mask when we first arrived. Without another word, he opened the door and stepped out into the cool night air.
As he walked through the empty streets, he stuck to the shadows, scanning his surroundings. The city was silent, almost unnervingly so. "No one's walking around," he murmured. In Aldoria and Veridonne, the streets would still have life at this hour. But here? Nothing.
Then, something caught his eye—a building with its lights still on. He frowned. "That's the only place with lights on at this hour. Maybe there's more to this city than meets the eye."
Kazuki adjusted his mask and approached cautiously, his instincts sharpening as unease prickled at his senses.