The oppressive silence in the chamber lingered like a heavy fog, broken only by the faint hum of the airship's essence-powered systems. Vince stood at the center of the vast room, the subtle pulse of dim light casting long shadows that seemed to twist and writhe around him. His fists clenched at his sides as he fought to keep his composure, knowing that even a moment of hesitation could be his undoing.
The voice came again, smooth yet serrated, like velvet concealing razor blades.
"Well then, Vince. Let's hear it," the benefactor said, the faintest hint of amusement in his tone. "Tell me, what delightful tale have you brought me today? I do so love a good story."
Vince licked his dry lips, careful to keep his eyes straight ahead, though there was no visible form to lock his gaze on. "The ruins were compromised. Someone else got there before us. An old man—"
"An old man?" the benefactor interrupted, a chuckle bubbling up like a brook, yet with an edge that sent a shiver down Vince's spine. "Was he knitting a sweater? Maybe shuffling about with a cane? Or perhaps he politely asked you to hand over my prize while offering you some tea?"
"I don't know who he was," Vince said quickly, his voice tightening. "But he wasn't ordinary. He wiped out Lyra and Flumen like they were nothing."
"Ah, yes," the benefactor said wistfully, as if reminiscing about old friends. "Dear Lyra and Flumen. Such fiery spirits. And now... extinguished. What a shame. I was quite fond of them." He sighed, a sound so exaggerated it was almost mocking. "Tell me more about this old man of yours."
Vince hesitated, the weight of the benefactor's attention bearing down on him like a stormcloud. "He didn't seem human. He moved faster than I could track, and his power—" Vince faltered. "It wasn't like anything I've ever seen."
A low, sinister laugh echoed through the chamber. "Oh, Vince. You paint such a vivid picture. An old man with godlike power swoops in and takes everything from you. How tragic." The benefactor's tone shifted, a feigned pout that barely masked the venom beneath. "And what, pray tell, did he take?"
Vince swallowed hard. "The bead. The black bead we were sent to retrieve. It was on an altar in the ruins. Before we could secure it, he... he took it."
For a moment, the chamber was silent, the shadows seemingly holding their breath. Then, the benefactor's voice returned, softer now, almost gentle.
"The bead," he murmured, as if tasting the words. "You mean to tell me you allowed some decrepit stranger to stroll in and snatch my bead right out from under you?"
Vince felt the temperature in the room plummet, a chill seeping into his bones. He gritted his teeth, refusing to let his fear show. "I didn't have a choice. He was too strong. If I'd fought him, I'd be dead, and you wouldn't even know what happened."
"Hmm," the benefactor mused, his tone light and airy. "Dead, you say? And here I thought you'd prefer that over disappointing me."
The words hung in the air like a guillotine, their weight far heavier than their delivery.
"I'll find him," Vince said hurriedly. "I'll get the bead back."
"Oh, I have no doubt you'll try," the benefactor said with a sing-song lilt. "But tell me, Vince—what makes you think you're still... useful to me?"
The question struck like a dagger, and Vince's heart pounded in his chest. He opened his mouth to respond, but the benefactor cut him off, his voice now low and dripping with malice.
"You've lost my bead. You've lost your companions. You've lost my trust. So what, dear Vince, do you have left to offer me?"
"I can still get it back," Vince said through gritted teeth, his frustration boiling over. "Give me time, and I'll make this right."
The benefactor chuckled again, the sound twisting into a deep, unsettling rumble. "Time," he repeated, savoring the word. "You mortals are always so obsessed with it. Tick-tock, tick-tock. As if it's yours to bargain with."
The light in the room pulsed, brighter now, casting flickering shadows that seemed to leer at Vince from the edges of his vision.
"But," the benefactor said, his tone shifting once more to something almost playful, "you do amuse me, Vince. And I do so hate to lose my favorite toys."
Relief flickered through Vince, though he didn't dare let it show.
"Here's what we'll do," the benefactor continued. "I'll let you scurry off like the little rodent you are. Chase your bead. Chase your old man. And if you succeed..." He trailed off, his smile practically audible. "Well, let's just say I'll make it worth your while."
"And if I fail?" Vince asked, his voice barely a whisper.
"Oh, Vince," the benefactor said with mock sweetness. "You won't fail. Because if you do..."
The shadows surged forward, encircling Vince in a suffocating cocoon of darkness. The benefactor's voice came from everywhere and nowhere, a whisper that burrowed into his mind.
"I'll make you wish you had."
The darkness receded as quickly as it had come, leaving Vince gasping for air. The pulsing light dimmed once more, and the benefactor's laughter echoed faintly as the chamber doors slid open behind him.
"Now run along, Vince," the benefactor said lightly. "Tick-tock."
Vince didn't hesitate. He turned and left, his steps quick and purposeful, though his mind was a storm of fear and anger. As the doors closed behind him, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was leaving with far more than he'd bargained for—and far less than he needed.
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As Vince's footsteps faded into the distance, the benefactor leaned back in his seat, the shadows around him coiling and twisting like living things. A soft chuckle escaped his lips, a sound that carried equal parts amusement and menace.
"An old man, Vince?" he murmured, his voice lilting as if tasting the intrigue. "And one who wields power to rival gods. How delightfully unexpected."
He reached out a pale hand, his fingers trailing through the air as though tracing invisible threads. The essence-powered systems of the airship pulsed faintly in response, the rhythmic hum of their operation rising and falling like a heartbeat.
"The bead," he mused, tilting his head as though listening to something only he could hear. "The old man... What game are you playing, I wonder?"
The shadows around him grew restless, shifting in undulating patterns that mirrored his thoughts. He smiled, a slow, predatory grin that hinted at both exhilaration and anticipation.
"I do so enjoy a good chase," he whispered, his tone almost reverent. "And it's been far too long since I've had prey worth pursuing."
As he spoke, the essence systems flickered, casting brief, erratic bursts of light across the room. For the first time, the benefactor's face was illuminated—a startling blend of elegance and majesty. His skin was pale, almost luminescent, with sharp, symmetrical features that seemed carved from marble. His eyes were hidden behind a black blindfold adorned with intricate silver patterns, but his silver hair, flowing like liquid moonlight, framed his face with an ethereal glow.
The light flickered again, and the room seemed to shudder, the air charged with an unspoken tension. The benefactor's smile deepened, a subtle tilt of his head giving him an almost playful demeanor that was betrayed by the ominous atmosphere he exuded.
"Tick-tock, Vince," he murmured, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Don't keep me waiting."
The shadows swallowed him once more, leaving only the faint hum of the airship's systems and the lingering chill of his presence.
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The night was quiet as Vince approached the truck, its faintly glowing essence engine casting a soft, otherworldly light across the barren wasteland. He could see Eris in the distance, his figure silhouetted against the glow as he moved through awkward, halting motions.
The boy was practicing.
Vince stopped a few paces away, watching as Eris attempted to channel his essence. Small flickers of light danced around him, but they were weak, erratic, and quickly fizzled out. The boy's frustration was palpable, his breaths coming in ragged gasps as he struggled to maintain control.
"Still at it, huh?" Vince said, his voice cutting through the silence.
Eris spun around, startled, but his expression quickly shifted to one of determination. "I'm not stopping until I figure this out."
Vince raised an eyebrow, his gaze sweeping over the boy's trembling form. "You're going to burn yourself out before we even get to Nyxoria."
"I don't care," Eris shot back, his voice defiant. "You said I was weak. I'm not going to prove you right."
Vince's expression remained unreadable as he stepped closer, his boots crunching softly against the ground. "You're not going to prove anything if you collapse before we even get there. Get in the truck. We're moving out."
Eris hesitated, his hands clenching at his sides. But the fatigue was evident in his posture, and after a moment, he relented, climbing into the truck without another word.
Scene: Onward to Nyxoria
The truck's engine purred as it came to life, the essence-powered systems glowing faintly as they surged with energy. Vince took his place behind the controls, the subtle hum of the vehicle filling the cabin as they set off into the wasteland.
Eris sat quietly for a while, his gaze fixed on the passing landscape. The silence between them was heavy, broken only by the steady thrum of the engine.
"Are we really going to Nyxoria?" Eris asked finally, his voice hesitant.
"Yeah," Vince said without looking at him.
Eris leaned back in his seat, his eyes narrowing slightly. "You still haven't told me anything about it."
"And I'm not going to," Vince replied curtly.
"But—"
"Save your breath," Vince interrupted, his tone sharp. "You'll see it soon enough."
Eris frowned, but he didn't push further. Instead, he turned his attention back to the faint glow of his Crest barely visible. He closed his eyes, trying once again to guide his essence, but the energy slipped through his grasp like water through his fingers.
Vince glanced at him briefly, his expression unreadable. The boy's efforts were admirable, but his aptitude—or lack thereof—was painfully clear. He sighed, his fingers tightening around the controls as he made a mental note to test the boy's resonance properly once they reached the kingdom.
For now, though, he focused on the road ahead, the glow of Nyxoria's distant lights barely visible on the horizon.