After hours of agony, Cain finally felt the pain subside. Weak and trembling, he lay motionless on the cold ground. Inside his soul, something had changed—a second, smaller totem now floated beside his own. The totem was dark green, pulsing faintly with an eerie light.
Dante's voice broke the silence, sounding unusually weary. "It's done. That rotten thing is now your second totem. You should be grateful."
Cain coughed, barely able to speak. "Thanks... but next time, maybe warn me about the cost?"
A quiet chuckle followed. "Nothing worth having comes without a price. You should rejoice. You've absorbed a fragment of an ancient existence. Even this tiny sliver will grant you immense potential."
Cain frowned, his voice hoarse. "You know something about that finger, don't you?"
Dante paused for a moment. "Its presence feels... familiar. But beyond that, I remember nothing. Its origins are ancient, perhaps older than memory itself."
Cain let it drop. Resting briefly, he forced himself to his feet, his legs shaking beneath him. Step by step, he trudged through the maze of tunnels, finally emerging into open air.
The afternoon sun was low on the horizon, its faint warmth doing little to ease the chill that clung to him. He couldn't stay here—not in this cursed place.
By sheer luck, Cain stumbled upon several abandoned land flyers near the cult's hideout. The machines were old—Gaian technology that had long been discarded—but Cain wasn't picky. After fiddling with one of the hoverbikes, he managed to get it running. With a rough hum, the machine sputtered to life, and Cain sped off, choosing a direction at random.
Nightfall came quickly, shadows swallowing the barren road as Cain finally found an old highway. Relief washed over him as he spotted other vehicles—signs of civilization. But before long, the hoverbike sputtered and died beneath him, leaving Cain stranded.
Cursing under his breath, he waved at passing vehicles. After several failed attempts, a flashy hover-bus screeched to a stop. The doors slid open, and Cain was met with blaring music and a group of young partygoers, dressed to impress.
The driver, an older man with a grin, shouted, "Need a ride, buddy?"
Cain nodded. "Yeah. Can you take me to the nearest city?"
"Hop in!"
The bus doors hissed closed as Cain climbed aboard. Immediately, all eyes were on him—his tattered clothes, streaked with dirt and dried blood, made him stand out like a ghost at a party.
"Whoa," one of the young men snickered. "We didn't just pick up a serial killer, did we?"
"Relax, man," another said, tossing Cain a bundle of clothes. "Here, buddy. You look like you could use these."
Grateful, Cain changed into the fresh clothes, slumping into the farthest seat while the others resumed their party. As the bus rumbled on, Cain closed his eyes and focused inward.
In his mind's eye, Cain observed his two totems. His own totem—still incomplete—bore three faint marks. Two were darkened, leaving only one glowing faintly. Surrounding it was a thin circular line, turning ever so slowly.
"Two marks darkened…" Cain muttered to himself. "It's like I've burned through two chances. But what does that line mean?"
Then he turned to the second totem—the small, dark green one. Unlike his own, it seemed whole yet incomplete, like a fragment of something greater. It gave off a quiet, unsettling aura.
He asked Dante, but Dante answered the same.
Cain sighed, realizing he'd get no answers. For now, survival came first.
An hour later, the hover-bus arrived at its destination. Cain stepped off, greeted by the blinding lights and endless noise of a bustling city—a sprawling entertainment hub filled with clubs, casinos, and neon signs flashing in every direction.
Saying his farewells, Cain quickly found a public communication terminal and punched in a familiar number. After a moment, the screen lit up, revealing the face of a stunned young man—Michael.
"Cain!?" Michael stammered, his jaw dropping. "How—what the hell happened to you!?"
"Long story," Cain said, his tone steady. "I'll explain later. I need your help."
"Anything! Just tell me what you need!"
Cain sent his coordinates through the system. "I'm at this location. Can you come pick me up?"
Michael frowned. "I'm in another city, but I'll get to you—might take a day or two. Are you okay on EC(Eternal Credits)?"
Cain hesitated. "Don't worry, I'll manage—"
"Stop it. I'm sending you something now." Michael transferred 100 EC, and a small silver card materialized in the terminal.
"Cain, that's enough to get you through two days. Buy a comm device and stay safe. Call me when you get it."
Cain held the card, feeling its weight. "Thanks, Michael. I owe you for this."
"You owe me nothing. Just don't disappear again!"
With a sigh, Cain ended the call. The 100 EC felt heavy in his hand. It was more money than he'd seen in years—more than enough for food, shelter, and whatever else he needed.
Using a single EC, Cain bought a basic communication device—a sleek gadget small enough to wear as a ring. After sending Michael his new number, Cain wandered aimlessly through the city. The stark contrast was almost too much to process.
Yesterday, he was a prisoner in Black Mountain. Today, he walked freely among crowds of laughing, carefree people. The neon lights and luxury were overwhelming.
But his moment of peace didn't last long.
"Hey, you there!"
Cain turned to see two patrolling officers—both clad in futuristic armor, their helmets glowing faintly. One of them, a stern-looking female officer, stepped forward.
"Identification, please."
Cain froze. "I… I don't have it with me."
"No ID?" The female officer didn't waste any time. Without another word, she pulled out a sleek scanning device and pointed it at Cain.
This must be their identification scanner, Cain thought, his pulse quickening. He considered running, but it was already too late. The machine emitted a soft beep, and within a second, the results flashed on the screen.
"No record found in the system. That's… strange." A slight confusion crossing the female officer face.
Cain exhaled, relief washing over him.
"Come with us to the station," the officer said. "We'll register your identity, and you'll be free to go."
Reluctantly, Cain nodded. He climbed into their hover car, the vehicle humming softly as it lifted off the ground.
As the city lights blurred past the windows, Cain's mind raced. Something didn't add up. Why wasn't his prison record in the system?