The air around the docks was thick with tension. The bell's mournful toll still echoed in Aiden's ears as the chosen sacrifices were corralled into two groups. The chosen—a mix of the desperate, defiant, and resigned—clutched at each other, their cries filling the air. The main group stood hidden in the shadows of the crowd, watching with a mix of anger and unease.
"Why are they splitting them up?" Aiden whispered, his voice tight as his gaze darted between the two lines forming near the pier.
"Those with enough casino coins go in one group," Kieran said grimly, his eyes locked on the enforcers herding the sacrifices. "The rest are sent to the other."
"And guess which group gets the worse fate," Rowan muttered, gripping her spear tightly.
Sylva's glow dimmed as she floated beside them. "The Core has a way of tying everything together. The coins are just another tool to spread its influence and break spirits."
The group watched as Al Capone's enforcers, dressed in their signature suits, barked orders at the terrified sacrifices. Those with the gleaming coins were loaded onto a sleek, black cart adorned with faint, crimson lights. The rest—those without enough coins to pay whatever unspoken price was demanded—were shoved roughly toward a waiting boat. The dark vessel bobbed ominously in the sea, its hull etched with glowing crimson veins.
Among those being pushed toward the boat was Amara, her arms crossed with trembling hands. Her face was pale, her wide eyes darting to the cart, then to the boat, as if trying to piece together an escape. The hope flickering in her expression was extinguished when she saw Darya step forward.
Darya's Victorian gown swayed gently in the breeze, her expression calm, almost serene. She walked gracefully toward the boat, her presence commanding silence among the crowd. But there was something in her eyes—a hardness that hadn't been there before.
"Darya," Amara whispered, stepping out of line, desperation cracking her voice. "You're not seriously going to let this happen, are you? You're the protector of this town! You swore to protect us!"
Darya stopped, her fan snapping open with a faint shimmer of light. She turned to Amara, her gaze unreadable. "I am protecting this town," she said softly, her voice steady but devoid of warmth. "This is the price we must pay to keep the darkness at bay."
Amara took a step back, shaking her head. "No. This isn't protection. This is betrayal."
The crowd murmured, tension thickening as they watched the exchange. Aiden felt his stomach twist. "We can't let this happen," he whispered, his fists clenched.
"Not yet," Kieran said firmly, placing a hand on Aiden's shoulder. "We need to know more."
Amara raised her eyes. "I won't go quietly. Not like this."
Darya sighed, the faintest trace of regret crossing her features. "You leave me no choice, Amara."
Before Amara could react, Darya flicked her fan with practiced precision. A wave of energy surged toward Amara, knocking the air from her lungs and sending her stumbling back. The enforcers seized the opportunity, closing in to restrain her.
Amara fought wildly, her desperation giving her strength. She twisted free for a moment, her eyes locking onto Darya's. "You're no protector," she spat. "You're a monster."
Darya's expression didn't waver. "If that's what it takes to save this town, then so be it."
With another flick of her fan, Darya sent a second wave of energy crashing into Amara, forcing her to the ground. The enforcers bound her hands and dragged her toward the boat, her screams echoing across the docks.
As the boat filled with sacrifices, Darya stepped aboard, her steps steady despite the cries and protests of the chosen. She moved to the bow, where a dark, suffocating presence awaited her. The Sentinel stood tall, his glowing crimson ring illuminating the shadows that writhed around him. His very presence made the air heavy, each breath a struggle.
"You've delivered fewer than agreed," the Sentinel rumbled, his voice a low quake that seemed to resonate within Darya's chest.
Darya met his gaze, her fan clutched tightly in her trembling hands. "I brought you enough," she said evenly, though her voice wavered slightly. "The town is on edge. Too many sacrifices, and they'll revolt. You'll lose your supply entirely."
The Sentinel tilted his head, the movement slow and deliberate. "Your logic is sound, Darya. But logic does not sustain the Core."
"You'll have what you need," she said, her voice firmer now. "I've included Amara. She's a hero, one of the strongest among us. Her strength will satisfy the Core."
The Sentinel's glowing eyes narrowed, and a low growl rumbled from the depths of his shadowed form. "Very well. But tread carefully, Darya. One misstep, and you will take her place."
Darya bowed her head slightly, though her fists clenched at her sides. "I understand."
The Sentinel's form dissolved into the shadows, leaving behind an oppressive silence. Darya straightened, smoothing her gown as she turned to watch the sacrifices. Her expression remained calm, but her eyes betrayed a flicker of something—guilt, perhaps, or resolve.
Back on the docks, the group huddled together in the shadows, watching the cart rumble away with its load of coin-bearing sacrifices. The boat, however, remained their focus.
"We have to follow that boat," Aiden said, his voice firm. "We can't just stand here and let them die."
"I agree," Kieran said, his tone measured. "But charging in recklessly will only get us caught—or worse."
"So what's the plan?" Rowan asked, glancing toward the boat as the last of the chosen were loaded aboard.
"We sneak on," Kieran said simply. "Wait for the right moment and figure out what's really happening on that sea."
Sylva floated closer, her light dim. "You risk much by following this path. But if you're careful, you may uncover the truth."
The group moved cautiously, slipping past the distracted enforcers as they approached the boat. As the ramp began to rise, they climbed aboard, hiding among the shadows near the cargo hold.
The boat creaked as it began its journey across the dark sea, the waves lapping against its hull. Above deck, the sacrifices sobbed quietly, their fear a tangible weight in the air.
Aiden clenched his fists, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "We'll stop this," he whispered, more to himself than anyone else. "Whatever it takes."
In the distance, the dark sea stretched endlessly, its surface swirling with faint crimson light. And somewhere beyond the horizon, the Core waited.