Between two great continents lied a layered cell quadrant with multiple floors at the base of the ocean — only the most dangerous and dark are put in this facility.

The concrete around them surrounded by vast blues, but depth which made the exterior an almost black abyss— perhaps one could see blue, if it were outside— with the lights on… but the darkness was nothing short of home to Erebus. His eyes dragged themself awake, and in the dim light he could see the room as it was. A tiny cot bed and a bunk— a top and a bottom.

Erebus stepped up at the lower bunk, his ears had picked up on a loud fuss approaching, almost through water it sounded to him as it body caved over and he realized he was not in control of his balance, a situation his mind hadn’t suddenly registered or perhaps had ignored was occurring began to escalate around him. Then his cell chamber opened and a few men in the uniform approached him with batons, cackling with lightning mana.

This was the first beating. Which Erebus succumbed to— he would have fought back but his elbows were littered with needle holes, and a anesthesic intoxicant kept his movements grey and hush.

He was fighting against the loss of what he had perceived to be his own motor function. Viciously, his aggressors seemed content to teach him that life here worked with a hierarchy in place, very well.

Erebus mumbled noises one would first assume were grunts of pain, but it would lead into laughter, through his own blood soaked teeth laughing up hemoglobin, he watched as a boot crushed his temple and his lights went out, all black again.

Just another day in this place, at this disadvantage. He’d kill them all for this, if he could ever get out.

Erebus is left there— and the scene fades as another emerges, the door is slammed shut behind the invaders. The time of day is early, but late morning, 1100 hours, at the bottom of the sea.



On the outside, work was at play that nudged for the end of the Don. Movements of loyalties had shifted, and there were creatures inhuman who saw no true merit to a rogue chambered in the same walls as they. The fact was a question to them— some had even been jailed here by his hands or accounts leading twas. Unlucky, was one, cornered by their enemy in great numbers.

The wicked had started their march, and in that time. A few lackey criminals would approach a heavily-guarded cell, and inside Helmutt, from beyond the veil of thick smoke on his shrine, invited the lackeys inside.

“You come after all— so it is as they say, Erebus is here?”

The one who would come to be known as Helmutt would address. The men nodded, and then one gestures to the door with the nod of his neck and an expression of worry. A large man on cue— pushes through the clearing, several feet taller than a werewolf, he cradles his large muscular body to fit into the room; ducking his neck and shoulders slightly.

Information:

“You speak at Ozart. A bandit enter Hellsea and Ozart collect money to kill man. Guard say to me that you may aide man, that you are apart of tiny human’s agency. You work for bandit man no more? or Ozart need kill?” Ozart would mince no threat, as his barred and crooked teeth smirked from between his words, his underbite spitting his words out with a dumbed accent, from years of battle or perhaps a deformation in his jaw.

“I only worked with the Akudama when it benefitted me, but that organization is falling apart, and its best champion is bested by a Holy Knight.” He said with a chortle to his pitch. “I would quicker die than let myself be extorted by a maggot.”

Ozart laughed “You joke good. But Ozart see phony lie, Helmutt fear little man.”

Helmutt’s forehead pulsed at the vein as a stare down commences between two opposing and yet coinciding enigmas. “... If you pride yourself so valuable. Heh heh. Then work with me and let’s make this human break?”

The trustee laughed along with his henchman, “Ozart know not what you can offer… — Fearing one.”

Helmut raised his smoking hookah— a pause, and a wretched smile crossed his lips. “Oh I can do lots, but you must test the skills needed first. I don’t throw my investments on contraband like this around for no reason.”

Ozart scratched his barren chin. “Helmutt is chemist? Helmutt make drugs for Akudama? So Drug Control sound good for Ozart. Helmutt still die perhaps, heh heh heh. You funny little guy. I fight and break bandit before you do anything and then Ozart come back and beat you too, take over all.”

The Giant stood up straight— his monstrous frame being several feet and his height a menacing nine feet tall, he bent the cell door closed when he pushed it in and slammed it sealed, a final disrespect for his fellow criminal as it was.

Information:

“Yapping fool. I hope you defeat that monster.” Helmutt said, his attention drifting down to the regents at his feet. He grinned smugly, foreshadowing his own intentions with a devilish chuckle.

In the meantime, Erebus would find himself woken by a splash of water. He was slung a plate of slop from under his cell door and realized he wasn’t in any room he had seen previous, the guards dropping his body there in the pod with several, perhaps fifty strange individuals, his door was cracked open, allowing for some degree of air so he could endure and rot for all his years.

Some voices on different floors echoed up with the stairs of the cell’s walkway outside his door— under one sector, this appeared to be a concourse of just one open floor of the prison. This was the architecture of a super max facility as grand as a city or town itself.

The room was so vast and large that it felt like he were almost outside somewhere, peaking his head outside of the door to see rain or snow, but the proof that the sky above had a ceiling about 250 feet up discourages fresh air, he was in a captive environment. Bubble encased walkways made of interlocking metal-bands made the flooring, and glass by the foot in diameter separated them from the water outside. It was through the metal bands under their feet, one could hear the assault or approach of danger.

That depiction of water was also around them— and could be seen, it gave the inhabitants the solitude of knowing they were alone forever. They were in fact, at the deepest pits of this realm, in the trenches of some mariana.

Erebus kept observing his surroundings and noticed how the guards in the distant side of his pod transported carts around on the other side of large glass wall, areas that the prisoners couldn’t reach, he’d finally figured. Ere quickly assessed the place for the reputation it pervaded. Thick water, and creatures like sharks or sting-rays occasionally floated by, illuminated only by the light from inside.

Peaking around the bend— Erebus caught an interesting, momentary capture; a potential opportunity. A short, stubby man entered the floor he was walking towards, approaching from a different cell chamber and gradually going from doorway to doorway  with a clipboard and quill. He wore a hat that had the indication he was a correctional officer. Erebus waited to see what information he could learn with this character.

—————————-

In another area of this prison pod, approximately 500 feet away and the other side of the grand space, was a wizard with a hood wrapped around his head. He wore dark brown, burnt clothing. He had only just appeared in a blink, followed by chaotic wisps of purple energy of the void which danced like embers on his cape’s tail. He stretched his arms out, and burst out laughing— provoked by a great success. “Woah ho ho ho! It worked, and now to get right with the deal... do my part.”~ said the strange agent of chaos, happy to be here— of all the places. “Such a big room though, oh dear.. This could be a minute…” The dark wizard, known to few in this world, began his own march now, as he traversed the prison in search of the Dark One. Lo had on a brown carry bag, his purse resembled something like that of an old leather duffel with a chain laced around his chest. His face cheekbones were high, and his teeth, were unusually small and jagged. While his chin jutted out and his eyes had no pupils, replaced by yellow orbs.

As the heavy iron door creaked open, Yel hesitated at the threshold, feeling the oppressive weight of his new surroundings. The dank, musty air of the underwater prison clawed at his senses, making him shudder involuntarily. "Welcome to Hellsea Bastille, boy," a gruff voice greeted him from the shadows. The guard's heavy footsteps echoed through the corridor, each step sending ripples through the water that surrounded the prison. Yel's heart pounded in his chest as he stumbled forward, relying on the guard's guidance. "I didn't do it," he murmured, barely able to find his voice amidst the swirling fear. "Everyone says that," the guard grunted, his hand firm on Yel's shoulder. "Your protestations don't change a thing in this place." The guard led Yel through a labyrinthine of narrow hallways, the walls slick with seaweed and algae, the dim glow of magical runes casting eerie shadows across their path. "What will... happen to me here?" Yel asked, his voice trembling. He couldn't shake the feeling of impending doom that hung in the air like a shroud. The guard let out a low, humorless chuckle that set Yel's teeth on edge. "You'll soon find out, lad," he said, his eyes unreadable behind the visor of his helmet. They finally reached a heavy metal door, and with a loud clang, it swung open to reveal Yel's new prison cell. The small space was devoid of any comfort, the walls made of damp, corroded stone, the only furniture a lumpy cot and a rusted chamber pot. "[color=#cc0066]Here you are, boy," the guard grunted, shoving Yel roughly into the cell. "Get used to the view. It'll be your only one for a long while."

Yel stumbled backward, his hand scrabbling against the rough wall as he fought to stay upright. "Please," he pleaded, his voice rising in desperation. "I don't belong here." "Ain't for me to decide," the guard said with a shrug, slamming the door shut and leaving Yel in the suffocating darkness. Alone in the cold, damp cell, Yel sank onto the cot with a heavy heart. His blind eyes stared sightlessly at the blackness, a cold dread settling in the pit of his stomach. The hours passed in a daze, each more oppressive and suffocating than the last. Yel's fear gnawed at him, a constant companion in the looming shadows. Suddenly, a low, guttural moan echoed through the corridor outside. Yel tensed, his heart pounding in his ears. What unspeakable horrors inhabited this forsaken place? The moan turned into a shuddering scream, the sound tearing through the murky depths like a banshee cry. Yel's blood turned to ice, his breath coming in panicked gasps. "What in the name of the Abyss..." Yel muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, his mind racing with unimaginable dread. Just then, a deep, resonant laughter reverberated through the walls, sending a chill down Yel's spine. It was a sound devoid of warmth, a sound that belonged in nightmares. Yel's heart hammered in his chest as he strained to hear more, the cacophony of sounds filling the air with stifling tension. Another prisoner's voice echoed through the darkness, this one a low, steady hum that seemed to vibrate the very stones of the prison.

The eerie sound sent shivers down Yel's spine. As the night deepened, the sounds of suffering and madness continued to ripple through the prison, each one a reminder of the perilous world Yel now inhabited. "I can't do this," Yel whispered to himself, his voice barely audible over the haunting symphony of wails and cries that filled the air. Yel pushed himself off the cot, his movements uncertain, and made his way to the cell door, his fingers groping blindly for any sign of escape. "Help!" he called out, his voice cracking with desperation. "Someone, please help me! I shouldn't be here!" His cries echoed through the desolate corridors, but no answer came, the silence pressing in on him with unbearable weight.

Months have passed like the many leaves of an tree coming into autumn, it had been quite sometime since he had put Erebus behind bars and yet he was still troubled by their presence. Their strength, abilities were all something he could handsomely fight against but rather it is the motives that drove Erebus that concerned Kon that and their shared history together. They were something he had been mulling over for such a long time but perhaps those issues would come to a head with reports of the many trials ahead of them beginning soon enough. Knowing the criminal for perhaps the longest of all the Rune Knights and being the key to apprehending them, he was one of the first people called upon and despite his station it would not be something he could refused. While he was the general of the organization and could certainly send an envoy he still felt a personal responsibility in finally resolving the matter. That didn’t mean he would relish the location for which he had been summoned, the Hellsea Bastille, a venerable fortress in the sea said to contain some of the greatest villains through the world. A dangerous place to be for someone without the ability to swim, a skill which he had lost since gaining his metal frame. Of course he could still just walk on the sea floor but there is always a bigger fish in those black seas.

While his hand did linger on the Skeleton key within his jacket open, he fell short of activating the relic realizing the unfortunate truth that he would have to make the under the water trek having never been there in the first place. Something which would be done in two parts, first a lengthy flight on his chaotic hespa, an elemental being of great untapped bridled potential which he had begun to establish a tenuous bond with having fought together against terrible foes including the very enemy which they had imprisoned together. His emotions towards the animal had always been mixed to say the least with them never having directly harmed him and yet he was a constant reminder of the tragic incident that led to his entombment within his metal frame. Their relationship had become increasingly combative with their recent travels to the foreign and exotic country of Sin, a region that seemed to share many thematic traits to the more familiar Joya, a neighbour country to Fiore and Bosco.

His summons to that country arised prior to his call as a witness against Erebus. It was a strange invitation and had been requested from both the ruling class of Sin and the Magic Council hoping to use Kon as a representative and reestablish a repor between the two groups. More then once he had made a fool of himself speaking joyan to the local sinese much to their amusement and his own chagrin. Culture barriers seemed to be even greater between his native Boscoi and the Sinese compared to the Joyan neighbours. Formality and a strict honour system for seniority both in position and age seemed to be the most highly regarded with him being both respected and criticized in the same breathe after failing to follow correct social decorum.

Gifts were traded between himself and his hosts, his own consisting of his Jean D’arc sword that resided within his arm. Reforged once more into the golden blade prior to leaving Fiore, it was received with much appreciation from the hosts who chose to present the weapon upon a stand rather that use it. The gift in return was fair more modest that of an ancient tea set, something of a slight upon him if his robotic nature was considered. A hefty series of ceramic, Kon had accepted it with great hesitation swiftly placing it within his own quarters back in Fiore through his aforementioned Skeleton Key after the conclusion of their initial ceremony, still left bound and unwrapped beneath his desk. Something which he would ultimately either use only ceremonially or trade off as a future gift for another. Despite being reminded of his fortunate position in life, his adventures within the Sinese territory did not come without excitement having been accosted not once, not twice but three times by various bandits and lowlifes during his many tours. Even coming to the aid of a mysterious woman dressed in attire he could only describe as ornamental and from another time. Unaccustom to the culture and peoples he made little comment to their peculiar appearance resembling that of a spirit rather then a person almost transparent and nigh invisible to his Millenium Eye something he had only encountered a handful of times. “Perhaps magical beings were more accepted in this foreign land?” He thought to himself during this brief encounter, a thought that only lasted a moment when the spirit wrenched out from their chest a mighty blade of their own offering the fine weapon to Kon kneeling before him clutching the steel in their two hands. Resentment still firmly resonating within the man against his hosts, despite his better judgement he lingered over the weapon with his gilded gauntlet hopefully protecting him from any potential curses that might fail upon him.

Running his fingers over the handle from crossguard to pommel, he knew there was something suspect and yet in his own sense of self worth he could not contain himself and instead of casting aside the offering, wrapped his fingers around the handle raising it from the hands of the unusual spirit lady who only smiled and began to cackle with a fearsome nature only seen amongst the criminally insane. Before he could attempt to resist what ever forces were to play, the midas began to react independent of Kon instead appearing to be absorbed by the katana itself. Feeling as though the weight of the weapon had almost doubled, Kon found himself only capable of dragging it against the ground with his dominant hand. Grasping it with two hands, this burden was almost immediately expunged with the weigh disappearing entirely. From a golden crafted weapon of war, the Midas Gauntlet had become nothing but slag upon the ground and yet he could still feel the traces of its power within the blade. His own material concerns were swiftly overcome however with the spirit before him instead now incorporating herself from the weapon into his own being spiraling around the two while the laughter began to originate within his own mind and before long became his own.

Whoever or whatever it was had now began to possess him and yet he could easily restrain them within his psyche. Disappointed with the loss of yet another relic weapon, Kon only managed to find some solace in the sword he now possessed, slashing in front of him checking the balance of the blade, he was amused almost cackling the same as the spirit had done as a powerful wave extended out splitting a tree in two. Recognizing the impractiality of holding a giant sword everywhere he went and needing to travel on Hespa, he pondered how best to carry around such a weapon. As if to answer the unasked question a voice within his own mind, unrecognizable from his own spoke out. “Place it inside of yourself, fool…” Lacking any form of scabbard or any sling, Kon merely did as was proposed, repeating what the spirit had done but in reverse, a naive thing to do and yet he knew he wouldn’t be harmed with the sword seemingly turning into a purple nothingness as he plunged it into his chest. Just what would be the cost of what he had inadvertently agreed to, had he now bond his own soul to the spirit that was now lingering within his body?, Only time would tell.

Time was something which was not a luxury from him at this point, already he was running late to reach the Bastille at an acceptable time. “Use my powers and you shall be anywhere you need…” Once more a voice echoed within his own thoughts lulling him into a false sense of security attempting to act as a friend. While he was certainly a fool for even trusting the spirit by taking the sword until he had consulted with an expert in possession he wouldn’t listen to the sweet words of a beautiful spirit. And so through the skeleton key, Kon cut his travel distance in half before trying to mount his silisa to travel the remainder pausing almost absent minded for the briefest of moments marvelling at the intricate detail of the companion ball clutched in his hands over the sharp cliffs to the open seas and the Bastille. Shaking his head, he was more confused and annoyed with himself then ever before to be fixated on something so insignificant. Was this the doing of whatever had taken residence in his mind?, He had certainly hoped not. It was only coming to the cliffs that he realised what he was going to ask of his companion travel out into the open seas and potentially into the great depths. Perhaps he’d accept the task taking him vaguely to Bastile and return to Era but he had his doubts. Releasing the entraped Hespa, Kon hopped onto the beast saddle still strapped tight. With great hesitation, the silisa took flight and began the journey over the endless waves. Hour after hour, the land behind them disappeared beyond the horizon as the sun began to descend.

Reaching perhaps half the distance, they came to a quick and abrupt halt as hespa without warning performed a barrel rolling through him off into the water with the saddle having burnt to cinders over the lengthy trip. Plunged into the cold, dark depths, he would have undoubtedly drowned were he still human. Recognizing the futility of resisting the waves around him, he merely allow himself to sunk like a rock while he spotted Hespa in the distance. Perhaps they had finally gotten sick of his demands and being left inside the companion ball all the time. A lengthy descent that left him with many minutes of idle thought a sea life bent and twisted away from him. In the great distance bigger fish began to gain confidence to nip at the metal man. An act quickly rebuked with a swift kick from his boot and the growing lights of the bastille below. Landing on the highest platform, Kon could feel the distinction suction upon the ground as it began to sink while his only exit was closed as two doors merged together from above. Water drained in mere moments as the sea life around him flopped and gasped upon the metal floor. Once the sirens and lights had come to an end, Kon was finally greeted still drenched in sea water. Fearsome attendants, he stood his ground and merely said to the men. “Take me to him.”

——————

Erebus Incarcerated Kingpin The door creaked open as the figure of Erebus pressed himself against the metal frame at his room and peered over the rail, he watched suddenly as the stocky man pressed on a radio attached at his chest, he appeared to be getting some orders, the words were just a little too far for Erebus to discern, however— the man turned and looked up at Erebus. Gary— the C.O. on the floor would intercom back to the monitor room, a station dwelling behind a large glass wall, a safe zone which protected the staff from damage. “So he’s arrived, then we aren’t sedating the prisoner. The drugs‘ll just make him fall flat on his face… You can’t interrogate anyone that way, just… Send the task force immediately, we’ll restrain him the old fashioned way. On stat too; get here now, I’m looking at our guy— and he’s… looking right back at me.” Gary’s eyes narrowed, and his hand went to his holster— covering a handgun, armed and ready for pull out. It was nothing new to Erebus, his subconscious affixing too its own hatred. Sensing those souls which also resented his, a cycle of darkness feeding the true void. However, this was no typical force. It was Konstantin, one of the greatest mages in walking form in this existence. A creature more than the organic compound they were born from. A true cyborg, if Erebus had ever heard of one. Perhaps, if Konstantin were erased, the darkness had whispered, then no one could stop Ere from shaping the world in his image. Alas, there were these individuals, so powerful and exalted as he— that those dreams were a conflict of interest. So in short, Erebus was no surprised victim, he knew he had signed up for this. But not being finished, and brought here. That was what troubled Erebus. His horrendous struggles were not yet over. So he could not rest, and as they say, there is no rest for the wicked. Erebus was adjusting his thoughts on those sensations, those senses, as he surveyed the C.O. A few feet and off below. Almost on cue with Kon’s arrival above, Ere had awoken and the dormant— monster in Erebus, had resolved itself of the wretched brain fog— he was putting everything together, his mind was racing. The aura of this place, and the one he too fed it, gave an anxiety to Gary many had never experienced. One of the few breathing men, who could feel Ere’s eyes on them and understand the humility of being twisted and contorted by their otherworldly power. The thoughts alone drew heavy amounts of cold sweat that inched down the neck and back, whereas the slight lest unmissable shiver rolled through the man’s legs. ”… Send as many as you can. I implore you… It changes nothing.” Erebus reasoned, just a bit more arrogantly than most would like to hear, his fist crashed against the rail, bending its metal with a dent inward, as the adrenaline started its run down his spine once again— back through his decrypt, ancient, and unused husk containing chaos. In that very moment of time, the erupture of an explosion above, one floor above to be certain, could be heard, loud and rumbling the entirety of the underground unit housing them below. “In the end, against your pathetic adversity, I will still remain...” he muttered at the end of his words. “Everlasting.” ——————

Ozart Hellsea Bounty Hunter Large and beginning to pick up speed, a monster of a man led three lackeys to the open clearing of a pod— this pod appeared to be sat differently— and very quickly one would see that Ozart and his men were not on the same level as Erebus— but they certainly had a plan to get there, and Ozart motioned with two-fingers, sending them in different directions. Firstly, two of his men sheltered up on the the stairs, and secondly the third began to adjust wires and operate a device he had slung together with tape and other spare contraband. Finally, Ozart would place down a metal briefcase— it was cybertronic, and emittted a pulsing blue glow, which was out of place on the cold foggy floor. The temperatures here mirrored a freezer room, the extent of which drew forth a mist with his breath. He stood up straight, waiting out the confidant as he’d began to work with the strange contraption. Ozart catches the sound of wales and tears not far off, making him peak his head up… He remains silent as if to pinpoint the noises whereabouts.

Ozart:
1/2 until main engagement
——————

Lo Agent of Chaos Lo is walking beneath the stairwells, sticking to the shadows when he enters earshot of a young prisoner— crying tears. This notably out of place behaviour raises alarms to Lo. Who isn’t sure that anyone here should be so weak or traumatized by their enclosure. “I wouldn’t be so loud if I were you!” He jested with a chuckle. “If something was going to have its way with you… or for heaven’s sake, ingest you?! Then noise is surely the fastest way to see the deed done. Practically suicide buddy!” Lo walked closer, approaching from outside of the boy’s open cell door. “Perhaps, you have heard of an adventurer locked here recently. Named… Erebus. Say— why don’t we find him together?” Lo: @ Zertutod 1/3 Posts until main engagement

——————

The heavy iron door of the prison cell swung open with a loud creak, causing Yel to startle in surprise. His heart raced as he recognized the familiar sound of footsteps approaching. "Who's there?" Yel called out, his voice trembling with fear. The darkness seemed to swallow his words, leaving only the beating of his heart reverberating in the small cell. Suddenly, a deep chuckle echoed in the cramped space, sending chills down Yel's spine. The laugh was devoid of warmth, carrying a sinister undertone that made Yel's skin prickle. "I wouldn't be so loud if I were you!" a voice teased, the words dripping with mockery. Yel's breath caught in his throat as the voice drew closer, its owner stepping into the dim light filtering through the narrow cell door. Yel's blind eyes widened in panic as he strained to make out the figure before him. The voice belonged to someone new, someone who exuded an air of danger that made Yel's insides churn with dread. "If something was going to have its way with you… or, for heaven’s sake, ingest you?!" the stranger continued, his tone laced with amusement.

Yel's mind reeled at the implications of the words, his heart hammering in his chest. "Who are you?" Yel managed to choke out, his voice small and uncertain. He felt a cold sweat break out on his brow, his instincts screaming at him to be cautious. The stranger chuckled again, a sound that made Yel's blood run cold. "Names are of little importance in this place, boy," the man said cryptically. "But you… you can call me Lo." Yel shivered at the name, a sense of foreboding settling over him like a heavy cloak. "What do you want with me, Lo?" he asked, trying to keep the tremor out of his voice. Lo's pale lavender eyes glittered in the dim light, a predatory gleam dancing in their depths. "Oh, nothing much, just a bit of company in this forsaken place,[/color]" he replied casually as if they were discussing the weather. Yel's stomach churned at the casualness of Lo's words, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. He knew he was out of his depth with this enigmatic stranger. "Perhaps you have heard of an adventurer locked here recently. Named… Erebus. Say— why don’t we find him together?" Lo continued, his voice taking on a sly edge. Yel's heart skipped a beat at the mention of the name, his mind racing with possibilities. "Erebus?" Yel repeated, his thoughts whirling. "Yes, Erebus," Lo confirmed, his gaze piercing. Yel felt a knot tighten in his stomach at Lo's implication. What did this stranger want with Erebus, and why did he think Yel could help? "I-I don't know anything about an Erebus," Yel stammered, his mind racing for a way out of this increasingly unsettling conversation. Lo's smile was like a predator's, all teeth and cunning. "Oh, but you will, my dear boy," he purred, closing the distance between them with a few swift strides.

Yel's back pressed against the cold stone wall of the cell, his heart pounding in his ears. He could feel the weight of Lo's presence bearing down on him, suffocating and heavy. Panic gripped Yel's chest as he realized the danger of aligning himself with this mysterious stranger. But a glimmer of hope whispered in his mind, a chance to escape his dreary existence in the depths of Hellsea Bastille. "I-I can help you find Erebus," Yel protested weakly, feeling the walls closing in around him. His breath came in shallow gasps, the oppressive air of the cell thick and suffocating. Lo's grin was triumphant, a hunger gleaming in his lavender eyes. "Good choice, my boy," he murmured, a promise of unknown perils hidden beneath his silky words. With a sudden movement, Lo reached out and gripped Yel's arm with surprising strength, pulling him out of the cell and into the dimly lit corridor beyond. Yel stumbled, his heart racing as he was led into the unknown depths of the underwater prison by his enigmatic companion. The whispers of other prisoners filled the air, a cacophony of suffering and despair that clung to the walls like a curse. As they walked, Yel couldn't shake the feeling of being watched, of unseen eyes tracking their every move. The oppressive atmosphere of the prison seemed to press down on him like a physical weight, making it hard to draw breath.

"Where are we going?" Yel ventured, his voice barely above a whisper. He felt like a lamb being led to the slaughter, his instincts screaming at him to flee. Lo's grip tightened on Yel's arm, a warning in the pressure of his fingers. "To find Erebus," he replied cryptically, his tone sending a shiver down Yel's spine. Yel stumbled as Lo dragged him through the dimly lit corridor of Hellsea Bastille, the sound of their footsteps echoing off the damp stone walls. The whispers of other prisoners lingered in the air like a haunting melody, sending a chill down Yel's spine. "L-let me go, Lo," Yel pleaded, his voice quivering with fear. He tried to pull away from Lo's iron grip, but the man's hold was firm. "Now, now, no need to be so dramatic, my dear boy," Lo chuckled darkly, his tone laced with amusement. Yel could feel the sinister smile in his voice. The air grew thicker with every step they took, the oppressive atmosphere of the underwater prison weighing down on Yel like a leaden cloak. As they turned a corner, Yel heard a low moan coming from one of the nearby cells. His skin prickled with unease, the sound sending shivers down his spine. "W-what was that?" Yel whispered, his voice barely above a whimper. He felt like he was walking into a nightmare, with every step taking him further into the depths of darkness. Lo's chuckle was like a cold wind, chilling Yel to the bone. "Just the unwelcome company of our fellow inmates," he explained, his words sending a shudder through Yel. Yel's breath caught in his throat as they approached a heavy iron door, its rusted surface creaking as Lo pushed it open with a groan.

His simple request appeared to fall on deaf ears as there was little movement within the “guards” who stood around him. Instead it was only the general environment around him that began to give him answers slowly as he scanned the room around him and listened to the various hums, moans and wails that could be heared even through the meter thick walls that separated each floor. Sound was only one element that began to reveal the truth behind just what was happening within the facility, but also the smell mixed with a large portion of the sea was the distinct and unmistakeable stench of blasting gel, that and the repellant lingering scent coming off the people who were suppose to be representing the Rune Knights.

Yes, they were the guards of a facility housing the more villainous of criminals but it didn’t excuse their lack of hygene. Beneath his helmet, Kon scanned the various “guards” who began to shift around Kon many merely grunting at the general while the largest of the group snorted and then spat upon Kon’s chest directly on his breastplate deflecting the light that flickered upon his torso. Shifting his stance ever so slightly unmistakably about to enter a fight between whomever had replaced the guards, Kon looked around weighing up all of the dozen that had crawled out of the various offices and interconnected rooms.

As if recognizing her time was about to come, a voice within him began to resonate once more with a powerful laugh practically forcing itself out of his own mouth. “Yes, it’s time for my blade to touch blood once more!” A bitter taste was left in his mouth as he truly began to realize the terrible mistake he had made accepting such an deal with the spirit. And yet it compelled him to withdraw the sword from his own chest, while the guards began to pull makeshift weapons of their own. Compared to his horrifically powerful sword, they were wielding planks with nails drive into them, wrenches and even simple construction rods. Resting the pommel of his new sword upon his chest, Kon prepared himself to enter a bloodbath on which he had not even wished to start.

With muscles of his face twisted into a grin, Kon started to relish the prospective of using his new weapon upon some willing targets. Retaining his senses to allow the guards to attack him rather then become the aggressor, Kon stood his ground and merely commented once more, albeit with greater force. “Take me to him!” The force of his words did startle some of the lesser wouldbe henchmen but the primary instigator laughed and reached for Kon’s blade with their right arm from beneath a thick black cloak, strangely disproportionally twice the size of their other. A foolish endeavour as Kon refused to yield his grasp upon the weapon all the while the thug’s own augmented hand become their own demise as it slowly turned to gold. “Perhaps you’re just not aware of who the hell I am?” Kon shouted reaffirming his position amongst the crowd. “I am General Konstantin Sokolov, Wielder of the Midas Gauntlet, Defender of Ishgar.” His titles had since become mixed as it seemed that his once renowned golden fist had merely become incorporated into this glorious sword.

Having dealt the first blow without much more then withdrawing his blade, the others rushed towards with him in a fit of passion matching the demonic hordes he had fought years ago. All the while a voice deep within him began to overwhelm his thoughts, with each gesture and flick of his wrist slowly no longer becoming his own. Blood dripping from the oritenal blade, a fine purple mist began to conceal the machine man as his form began to twist and concort into an elegant woman whose beauty was only betrayed by her villainous smile. It was none other then the spirit that had baited Kon only a few hours ago. More curious about her new body, the spirit began to examine the oddities that they were made up of, practically ignoring the battered and maimed thugs around them. Understanding it was only a matter of time before Kon regained control, the spirit within him had to take the most out of this great opportunity something that would fall short as a sudden bang echoed down from below. Like the volcanic mountains of old, the destruction was immediately obvious as the metal floor beneath them shifted from black to white hot red in an instant turning into slag.

A change that left little room for error as the sturdy ground turned into a forbidden soup. Far too unfamiliar with the new body that they were now inhabiting, they could do little to halt their relationship with gravity and thus began to fall alongside their fallen adversaries. From one floor to the next, each seemed more damaged then the last but were quickly cooling thanks for the water entrenched around all the sides of the building. Brought to their knees amongst the chaos, they finally began to recognize the danger which had befallen upon them with various criminals now loose and ready to fight, hopefully their charm and grace might by them some time but for now all they could do was lock eyes with a scantily dressed figure whose flesh had been blended with metal.

Erebus Incarcerated Kingpin Erebus heard a faint noise from further away in the room, as doors pulled themselves open and a troops of men in different locations, carrying with vests adorning their chests, new and specially crafted blasters. They entered the room, reading it with urban operative training, until the found Erebus and his dangerously close radius to Gary. The doors sealed behind them, so unfortunately, Erebus didn’t get his chance to get out and through them. He was exploring his options of fun, as one of in the front-men made gestures for his squadron to move-out, or into positioning. Behind different cover, taking the stone of the room as climbs for safety— and in unique spots where snipers could assume a kill-shot. They adjusted and adapted to the situation. Erebus was quickly surrounded, his attention drifted back to Gary. ”What fun…” the rogue enlightened them. “To be in the company of fellow honorable men.” ——————

Ozart Hellsea Bounty Hunter Ozart had just gotten through the most of it, his henchmen and clansmen had successfully plugged the machine to urns detonator, and Ozart still had his special briefcase tucked between his arm. “Take Ozart advice. Tiny and meager as be, we clansman give no time for a recovery. Equalize target, yes.” He decided executively, without much argument from the others. Ozart could lead his team with authoritarian command. Each of his men began by hoisting parachutes to their back and preparing to break the barrier segregating two levels of the prison, whereas Ozart sniffed upon the air, the look of bewildered, bamboozled enemy shown on the visage of his ugly facial expressions. He could sense the power coming from the down the open prison’s facility, coming from the darkness and smoggy haze that was behind himself. He began to head that way, moving like a giant through the shadows in the general direction of feet running, and to which Lo was dragging another into. And from outside of the mists, both villains would be peering down upon one another. Interestingly enough, this slighted Ozart as he didn’t see anyone else trying to steal the bounty on Erebus. Especially not right out, and in his face, as he was easily the biggest dog in the park around the Hellsea. “What you bozos want? Ozart run this place, you got that?!” He said, grudgingly revealing sharpened cabins and a threatening command. Unsure if these two strangers were about to get in the way of the plan,  remained to be unseen. Ozart had also been informed that Konstantin, a Kingsguard might be inside the prison, further enamoring a nervous and tense situation for the criminal hunting Erebus. He had no reason to be cordial, and simply, would waste little time murdering everyone ready to apprehend his recent and decent lick. The money he was about to cash out with? Was maybe ten times his bond, and that meant, escape and total control of the black market. Ozart was enchanted by greed, and his long, reptilian tongue licked the sharp teeth as he held his jaw open and stared at the invaders.

——————

Yel's breath caught in his throat as they approached a heavy iron door, its rusted surface creaking as Lo pushed it open with a groan. Yel's heart pounded in his chest as he followed Lo into the dimly lit corridor beyond. The air smelled musty and damp, the sounds of distant wails echoing through the narrow passageways. Yel clutched at the edges of his tattered prison uniform, his heart racing with a mixture of fear and excitement. Lo led Yel through a maze of twisting corridors, the dim light flickering ominously overhead. Yel's blind eyes strained to make out the shifting shadows that seemed to lurk at the edges of his vision. Suddenly, the sound of heavy footsteps approaching made Yel freeze in his tracks. Lo's grip tightened on his arm, a warning signal that sent a chill down Yel's spine. "Quick, this way," Lo hissed, pulling Yel into a narrow alcove just as two figures in dark uniforms marched past. Yel's heart pounded in his chest as he pressed his back against the cold stone wall, trying to control his frantic breathing. Lo's lavender eyes glittered in the dim light, a hint of mischief dancing in their depths. "Looks like we have some company, my dear Yel," he murmured, a sly smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Yel's stomach churned with dread as the two figures drew closer, their footsteps loud in the narrow corridor. One of them carried a strange contraption that gleamed dully in the dim light, sending a shiver down Yel's spine. As the figures passed by their hiding place, Yel could see the Rune Knight insignia emblazoned on their uniforms. His heart sank at the realization that they were in the presence of the prison guards. "Keep quiet," Lo whispered, his voice barely audible over the sound of the guards' footsteps. Yel nodded, his pulse racing as he tried to still the trembling of his limbs. The guards moved on, their footsteps fading into the distance. Yel let out a shaky breath, his heart still hammering in his chest. Lo's grip on his arm loosened slightly, a silent signal that it was safe to move. Yel peered out from their hiding place, his blind eyes straining to make out the shapes moving in the darkness. "Are they gone?" he whispered, his voice barely above a murmur. Lo nodded, his expression unreadable in the dim light. "For now," he replied cryptically, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. Yel felt a sense of unease settling over him like a shroud. "What do we do now?" Yel asked, his voice filled with apprehension. He knew they were treading on dangerous ground, with every step bringing them closer to danger. "We wait," Lo said simply, his gaze fixed on something unseen in the distance.

Yel's heart raced at the thought of lurking in the shadows, waiting for who knows what to happen. Minutes passed like hours, the oppressive silence of the prison corridor weighing heavily on Yel's shoulders. He could hear the distant sounds of muffled voices and clanging metal, a reminder of the harsh reality of their surroundings. Suddenly, the sound of heavy footsteps approaching made Yel's heart leap into his throat. Lo's grip tightened on his arm, a silent command to stay still. Yel held his breath, his muscles tensing as the figures came closer. He could hear the harsh cadence of their voices, the clink of metal against metal. As the figures rounded the corner, Yel's blind eyes widened in shock. They were not the familiar guards of Hellsea Bastille, but strangers clad in dark leather vests and armed with gleaming blasters. Lo's grip on Yel's arm tightened, a silent warning to stay hidden. Yel's heart raced as the strangers drew nearer, their footsteps echoing off the damp stone walls. Just as the strangers passed by their hiding place, Lo's plan sprang into action. With a swift movement, he pushed Yel out from behind the corner, exposing him to the strangers' line of sight. "Get on the ground, now!" one of the strangers barked, leveling his blaster at Yel's trembling form. Yel's heart raced as he obeyed, sinking to his knees on the cold stone floor. Yel could practically feel the cold metal of the blaster pressing against his temple, sending a shiver down his spine.

Lo reached into his old leather duffel bag with practiced ease, his fingers closing around a small vial of orange liquid. With a swift motion, he hurled the vial at the strangers, his eyes glinting with mischief. Yel gasped as the vial shattered at the strangers' feet, a cloud of orange mist engulfing them in a swirling haze. The strangers staggered, their blasters clattering to the ground as they struggled to maintain their balance. Lo seized the opportunity, grabbing Yel's arm and pulling him to his feet. "Don't breathe," he hissed, his voice urgent. Yel nodded, his heart pounding in his ears as he fought the instinct to inhale. The orange mist swirled around them, thick and suffocating. Yel's chest burned with the effort of holding his breath, his head swimming with dizziness. With a final burst of strength, Lo pulled Yel away from the disoriented strangers, their shouts fading into the distance. Yel stumbled, his blind eyes clouded with tears. As they fled down the dimly lit corridor, Yel could hear the sounds of confusion and panic behind them. The orange mist lingered in the air like a noxious cloud, making it hard to breathe. "What was that?" Yel gasped, his voice barely above a wheeze. Lo's grip on his arm was firm, guiding him through the twisting passageways with a sense of urgency. "A little trick I picked up in my travels," Lo replied cryptically, his eyes scanning their surroundings for any sign of pursuit. Yel could hear the distant sounds of alarms echoing through the prison, a cacophony of chaos rising in the wake of their escape. They rounded a corner, their footsteps echoing off the damp stone walls. Yel's heart raced as they plunged deeper into the bowels of Hellsea Bastille, the oppressive atmosphere weighing heavy on his chest. "We need to keep moving," Lo said, his voice tense.

Yel nodded, his pulse racing as they navigated the twisting corridors with a sense of urgency. As they turned a corner, Yel's blind eyes widened in shock. Two figures clad in dark uniforms stood before them, their expressions masked by the dim light of the corridor. Lo's grip on Yel's arm tightened, a silent warning to stay back. Yel's heart raced as he took in the sight of the strangers, their eyes glittering with a predatory gleam. "Well, well, what do we have here?" one of the strangers sneered, stepping forward with a menacing swagger. Yel felt a cold sweat break out on his brow, his instincts screaming at him to flee.

The Moirai — Stringers of Fate wrote:You have done this before— time and again.

The deeper you dwell in darkness — The further light shall abandon you

Lose your soul, or seek your sanctuary.

The days keep passing, the stroll between one door to the cold slab of wall, the scent of rotten paint, and the smell of death tolls the bells for the heel they know as Erebus.

“I fuckin’ hate this place,” his words pierced the air. The shade of the man commented— awake again — this time for days, and Erebus gripped his black cloth lifting it over his neck. Rubbing it over his face. He wiped cold sweat, it was of an anxious concentration. There were shackles on his ankles again, they held his feet to the floor, bloodied ankles while the freezing ache of confinement made his skin crawl.

“Tactile hallucinations, be damned.” He gritted his teeth, concern was gone for his mental capacity— he could dwell here no longer, he tugged twice at the floor. Ready to see if his strength has returned enough to free him again, if the stone ground would come up with him again at last. When jerking against those steel chains, one of two things would happen. The metal would crack against such weak stone concrete, inspiring hope in the fallen one, but guards occasionally peered through the glass door, a robust and wide opening to check on the most infamous human to have lived in the last decade and see Erebus.

This was a super max facility, not somewhere you would easily find yourself, and isolated at all times? That alone was an issue when dealing with a covert dark enigma. Yet he was the sole entity conjured for the lockdown.  

Same place he would die no doubt?

“I am not going to roll over, I will take everything from this place.”

He said those words as if the company himself, to stay in one mind frame for the coming storm— the escape he had promised himself in those memories— or dreams. Needing little to no men elsewhere, while in fact, he was held to ransom away from anyone who knew of his legends and would try to aide in his cause.

Allowing the chain to splinter and break ever so much. There would be almost a regular occurrence that passed— day by day, Erebus would find a method to take apart and ditch this dank, oceanic laden container. These days that stacked provoked different rooms and new hells, an ever changing location to prevent one from accessing the right directive and escape.

Finally, the other cracked the concrete gave way for him, his body snakes to both legs. Back pressed firmly against the freezing stonewall. Pushing forward, one would notice that Erebus retained his strength, gliding over the floor like a phantom to the window. The guard, a burlesque, correctional officer lifted a black device to his lips.

Speaking into it, Erebus’ eyes drifted to the missing door handle and where it was. There was a force, as if a magnetic energy wanted to rip the door open— but rather than do anything like that. It wouldn’t budge if one placed their hands against it. This container was a special one, only Erebus inhuman strength, when not tranquilized, lifted the veil and allowed departure from one stage to the next

C-r-a-c-k…!

Erebus wasn’t hearing that blunder, he was ill. More than ill, he was an impatient and mad obsessed foe. When he carried himself however, he bled to the bones in his humble vessel, he was quiet and calculated. He was called to Earthland to drive some story and was growing ill of his time locked beneath the halls.

The water outside would crush all of his bones, so he sort of had to play this rat race— a game of chance in an endless maze meant to disarm his psyche, rather than that— he wished to let it go.

He broke the door— perplexing the thoughts earlier, but this was admittedly something few on the power spectrum could do— and Erebus was one of few who was a physically-equipped monster, slinking it forward— his arm from under a black robe, Erebus turned his knuckles on impact, allowing glass to shatter and pierce his own arm while it gave through to the elbow, he grabbed the guards nasal-passage, and pulled to man wickedly at the nose to the door, slamming him once, twice, and then finally knocking him out at the third.

“… In my new hour of escape, I have decided I won’t be killing, may you wake when ready. I will see you again.” He said, his fingers clenched the man where he lay, and he looked around the bloke’s body for anything he could use, any skeptical trinket or item. He recovered nothing, and placed his back against a wall as he broke different glass shrapnel’s off the door, one hand at a time.

“This must be… my eighth attempt, or have I been brainwashed, each and every time I get to the last door.” He voiced curiously, finally opening a bigger hole in the wall. A better chance of getting out, than the last sure to please his damaged heart.

“That man, I have heard his name here whispered before… Zerutod it was.” Erebus wondered if a lone escape would continue to be impossible. Perhaps in order to defeat those who would continue to keep him locked up, he should need to find the characters he had heard from word of mouth.

Erebus silently slid behind two guards as they walked by, his footsteps always light and silent. He pondered his path, and approached a temple- style room. Raging in the center, was a large ogre of a creature.

“You.” He said, having flashbacks of the bomb which ignited from a higher floor months ago. “… You took the prison from me, before those experiments,” Standing erect, and tilting his head back the voice thundered.

“This Ozart special place. Place for tearing and breaking.” He turned around. “You never leave this prison small man— not while Ozart get paid more rich.”

Erebus had nothing on him. He had been here before, and his memory was foggy, likely due to the injected serums placed in his body each time. Washing and keeping him beneath the grasp of those he would normally undo.

“I cannot defeat you.” Erebus finally answered.

“Ozart know.” The monster gang leader laughed. “You human. You weak.” Behind the beast one could see he had battered and defeated Helmutt. The weasel Erebus once commanded. “You use Helmutt, I see.”

Erebus pondered their alliance, clearly— Ozart was fierce not because of his own magic, but his numbers— his fellowship. Helmutt was a dark sorcerer, a no good crook. However, such a powerful sorcerer he could use magic even in anti-magical chambers.

“”I see— then it becomes clear to me, I am not ready to see you through Ozart. Instead, allow me passage. There are things I need, and I am no Hero. My bounty is gone, and in your stead, there is clearly something else for me here.”

Ozart laughed. “Seem puny man’s spirit gone. Pathetic.” The scoundrel roared and bellowed, other’s like Ozart carried with them knives, and bats, and other objects. They were already on the ready, Erebus wasn’t ready for this room. He held his arms up.

“Allow me passage. Unless you fear that I will storm this Bastille. Are you about what you say? Or does the slight of my name; make you tremble.” He spoke, his tone flat, and resilient of offense.

In the same mannerism from which Erebus raised his hand, Helmutt opened his eyes. He had wanted to takeover the Syndicate himself, and enlisted Ozart to defeat Erebus, but months in this crypt proved that he had made a horrid decision. Perhaps there wasn’t hope in Ozart, perhaps… Erebus was a light that was disguised in darkness. A force that could unify what was left of an old world.

“Erebus— I cast banish!” Helmutt yelled, waving his honey green fingers. In the same moment, Ozart spun around.

The scene blurred instantly and Erebus found himself wrapped in a whisky red vortex. Upon a twelve foot drop, Erebus landed on a concrete holding once again.

His vision faded in slowly, as if under the effects of a drugged state, the whispers and sounds of drums and hypnotism flooded his mind— dissolving as Erebus realized he was back to square one. He could see the large hole in the ceiling, from months back.

“Where he’d awaited Konstantin to finish the job, so long ago.” Though, Erebus could not recall exactly; what had transpired, he had appeared in the arena, facing a Demon from the Northlands. Before that— he remembered the surgery on his back, and in between that. He was recalling memories of ghosts. Wisdom flooding back to his mind.

Very well— this shall be the retelling.

“I see… still a pawn of these dark Gods.” Erebus wondered why Helmutt aided his escape— suspecting no foul play. He pressed forward then and there, a different take on the same game. Ascending to the next chapter of his Quest through the Hellsea.

Yel's heart thundered in his chest as he and Lo sprinted down the dimly lit corridor, the echoes of their footsteps swallowed by the oppressive silence of Hellsea Bastille. The air was thick with the lingering scent of the orange mist, a noxious reminder of their narrow escape. Yel's breath came in ragged gasps, each inhale a struggle against the panic clawing at his throat. “Faster, Yel!” Lo urged, his voice sharp and commanding. “We can’t afford to slow down now!”
Yel stumbled slightly, his clumsy feet betraying him as he fought to keep pace. “I’m trying!” he wheezed, his pulse racing as he felt the weight of unseen eyes on them. The shadows seemed to stretch and twist, mocking his every step. “What if they catch us?”
Lo shot him a sidelong glance, his lavender eyes glinting with a mix of excitement and irritation. “Then we’ll make them regret it. Just keep moving!”
They rounded a corner, and Yel’s breath hitched as they skidded to a halt before a heavy iron door, its surface pocked and rusted. The door loomed ominously, a barrier to whatever lay beyond. Yel could feel the cold metal radiating a sense of foreboding. “What if it’s locked?” he asked, his voice trembling.
Lo smirked, a glint of madness dancing in his eyes. “Leave that to me.” He stepped forward, producing a small device from his pocket—a sleek, black contraption that hummed softly in his hand. “Just a little persuasion,” he muttered, kneeling before the door’s lock.
Yel watched, his heart racing as Lo’s fingers danced over the device. The door emitted a low, ominous *click*, and Yel felt a rush of relief mixed with dread. “[color=#00ffcc]You did it!” he exclaimed, but the joy was short-lived as the sound of heavy footsteps echoed down the corridor behind them.
“[color=#9999ff]Get ready!” Lo hissed, shoving the door open with a forceful shove. It creaked loudly, the sound reverberating through the air like a warning bell. Yel hesitated, glancing back at the approaching figures, their dark silhouettes growing clearer in the dim light.
“Go!” Lo urged, his voice a whip-crack of urgency. Yel stumbled through the doorway, the cold air of the new level hitting him like a wave. He could hear the footsteps growing louder, the voices of the strangers taunting them from the shadows.
“Did you hear that? They’re close!” one of the strangers shouted, his voice dripping with arrogance. “Let’s see how long they can run!”
Yel’s stomach twisted at the thought of being caught again. “What do we do now?” he gasped, his hands trembling as he pressed against the wall, trying to steady himself.
Lo’s eyes sparkled with a manic energy. “We make our stand here. This level is ours now.” He stepped further into the room, revealing a dimly lit chamber filled with strange machinery and flickering screens. The walls were lined with glass containers, each one housing a different, grotesque specimen. Yel’s stomach churned at the sight.
“Is this… a lab?” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the pounding of his heart.
“More like a playground,” Lo replied, a wild grin spreading across his face. “And we’re the children.” He moved to one of the containers, peering inside with a gleeful curiosity. “Look at this one! A perfect specimen for my experiments.”
Yel swallowed hard, his anxiety spiking. “Lo, we don’t have time for this! They’re coming!”
“[color=#9999ff]Exactly!” Lo snapped, turning to face him, his expression suddenly serious. “We need to prepare. If they find us, we’ll be outnumbered. We need an advantage.”
Yel’s mind raced as he scanned the room, searching for anything that could help them. “[color=#00ffcc]What about those?” He pointed to a row of vials lined up on a nearby table, each one filled with a different colored liquid. “What are they?”
Lo’s eyes gleamed with interest. “Ah, these little concoctions! Each one has its own unique properties. Some enhance strength, others induce fear, and a few… well, let’s just say they can make a person very, very compliant.” He chuckled darkly, the sound sending a shiver down Yel’s spine.
“Can we use them?” Yel asked, his voice trembling with uncertainty.
“Of course! But we need to be strategic.” Lo moved swiftly, grabbing a few vials and tossing them into a small satchel. “We’ll use them to turn the tide in our favor. Now, let’s find a way to barricade this door.”
Yel nodded, his heart racing as he helped Lo push a heavy table against the door. The sound of their efforts echoed in the chamber, a stark contrast to the silence that had enveloped them moments before. “Do you think it’ll hold?” he asked, glancing nervously at the door.
“It’ll have to,” Lo replied, his voice steady. “We don’t have a choice.” He stepped back, surveying their makeshift barricade with a critical eye. “Now, we wait.”
Yel’s stomach twisted with anxiety as they settled into a tense silence, the only sound the distant echoes of footsteps and muffled voices. He could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on him, the uncertainty gnawing at his insides. “What if they find a way in?” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath.
Lo’s expression hardened, his eyes narrowing. “Then we fight. I won’t let them take us without a struggle.” He paced the room, his fingers twitching with restless energy. “We’ll show them what we’re made of.”
Yel swallowed hard, the fear coiling tighter in his chest. “I’m not like you, Lo. I can’t fight. I’m just… I’m just Yel.” His voice cracked, the weight of his self-doubt crashing over him like a wave.
He could hear the footsteps growing closer, the voices of the strangers echoing through the corridor. “They’re coming,” he whispered, his pulse quickening.
“Let them come,” Lo replied, a fierce determination in his eyes. “We’ll show them what we’re made of.”
The door rattled as the strangers slammed against it, the sound reverberating through the chamber like a death knell. Yel’s heart raced as he pressed his back against the wall, his hands trembling at his sides. “What do we do?” he gasped, panic rising in his throat.
“Get ready!” Lo shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos. He grabbed a vial from his satchel, holding it up like a weapon. “When they break through, we strike!”
Yel nodded, his heart pounding as he prepared for the inevitable confrontation. The door shuddered again, the sound of splintering wood echoing in the air. “They’re almost in!” he cried, his voice rising in panic.
“Now!” Lo shouted, his voice a battle cry. The door burst open, and the strangers surged into the room, their faces twisted with malice.
“Get them!” one of them shouted, raising a blaster.
Yel’s instincts kicked in, and he lunged forward, grabbing a vial from Lo’s hand and hurling it at the nearest stranger. The vial shattered, releasing a cloud of shimmering blue mist that enveloped the man, causing him to stagger back with a startled gasp.
“Good job!” Lo shouted, his eyes wide with surprise. “Keep going!”
Yel’s heart raced as he grabbed another vial, his hands shaking with adrenaline. He hurled it at another stranger, the mist exploding in a burst of color. The man screamed, his body convulsing as the effects took hold.
“Don’t stop!” Lo urged, his voice a fierce command. “We can win this!”
Yel felt a surge of confidence as he grabbed another vial, his fear transforming into determination. He hurled it at the last stranger, the mist swirling around him like a tempest. The man fell to the ground, his body limp as the effects of the concoction took hold.
Panting, Yel turned to Lo, his heart racing with exhilaration. “We did it!” he gasped, disbelief flooding through him.
Lo grinned, his eyes sparkling with triumph. The sounds of chaos faded behind them, replaced by the thrill of their victory. They were alive, and for the first time, Yel felt a flicker of hope igniting within him. Together, they could face whatever Hellsea Bastille threw at them next.