Sil moved with careful precision, slipping quietly around the corner into the large open room, his presence still masked by invisibility. He quickly approached Bliss, who was bound tightly against the glowing etched stone. He examined her restraints swiftly, his eyes narrowing in determined concentration.
Bliss lifted her head weakly, confusion and fear flickering across her face as she squinted uncertainly into the empty space before her. "What… who—?" she whispered hoarsely.
Softly, tenderly, Sil grazed her cheek with the gentle caress of his thumb. "Hey," he murmured reassuringly, voice barely audible. Recognition dawned sharply in Bliss's eyes, mingling relief and panic.
"Sil?" Her voice trembled with anxiety. Without hesitation, Sil leaned in and pressed a brief, firm kiss to her lips, an unspoken promise hanging between them. Bliss swallowed hard, her voice cracking urgently. "No, you can't be here—you have to leave, now! They could return at any moment!"
***
Vorden and Raten stood tensely at the window, their attention riveted on the scene unfolding below, though their perspective limited them to merely observing Bliss's reactions. They watched helplessly as her head jerked upward in startled disbelief, eyes widening in terror and desperation. Her lips moved in hurried whispers, words too faint for them to discern, but the frantic shaking of her head spoke clearly enough. Tears spilled silently down her anguished face, her expression pleading urgently toward an unseen figure.
Vorden's chest tightened painfully, a heavy sense of foreboding settling over him. He glanced sharply at Raten, anxiety clear in his eyes. "I don't like this," he murmured uneasily.
Raten rolled his eyes lightly, offering a casual shrug. "I mean, I'm no fan of hers either," he whispered back nonchalantly, a smirk playing at his lips, "but hey, if that's the territory Sil's decided to plant his flag, who are we to interfere?"
Vorden shot him a withering glare, frustration sharpening his voice to a harsh whisper. "No, you idiot, that's not what I meant. I don't like this situation. Everything feels… too easy. Something's off."
Raten chuckled softly, the humor barely contained. "You're just paranoid. You always want there to be a problem. Honestly, I'm just relieved Sil isn't still a virgin."
Vorden let out an exasperated sigh, shaking his head with resignation, defeated by Raten's persistent flippancy.
***
At that instant, a faint sound echoed ominously down the hallway, the telltale shuffle of approaching footsteps. Sil immediately stiffened, pulling back sharply. "Fuck, I've got to hide," he whispered urgently. "I'm here, Bliss. I'm going to get you out. Just hang on."
He retreated cautiously into the shadowed corner, forcing his breathing to remain slow and silent as Oriun strode arrogantly back into the room, reactivating the harsh overhead lights. Oriun approached a control panel, his fingers rapidly inputting commands. He glanced casually at Bliss, disdainful contempt etched deeply into his features.
"What are you staring at, you wretched creature?" Oriun snarled, eyes narrowing suspiciously as he traced her line of sight toward seemingly empty space. His footsteps echoed deliberately across the room as he moved slowly toward Sil's concealed position. Sil carefully edged away, every muscle taut, heart hammering in his chest.
Suddenly, Vespera burst into the room with an air of urgency, interrupting Oriun's investigation. "Oriun, I have urgent news," she declared crisply, her voice tight and purposeful.
Oriun halted immediately, turning to face her with sudden intensity as she leaned in close, whispering something inaudible. Oriun recoiled sharply, fury twisting his features into a mask of uncontrolled rage. "How could this happen?" he bellowed, slamming his fists onto the countertop, causing equipment to rattle ominously.
Vespera stepped back quickly, bowing deeply in fearful deference. "We are looking into it as we speak," she murmured hastily, straightening slowly. Oriun's gaze snapped once more to Bliss, his suspicion reignited.
"This changes nothing," he declared harshly, stalking forward toward Bliss. "We haven't broken her yet, not fully. There's far too much defiance, too much hope left in those eyes. Vespera, prepare the machine again. Increase its intensity—I want to see her utterly shattered."
Oriun turned swiftly, a cruel chuckle escaping his lips as he exited the room. Sil moved immediately, silently following Oriun, hoping to uncover a means to disable Bliss's restraints, or perhaps even exploit a moment of vulnerability during a transition.
He shadowed Oriun cautiously down winding corridors, but Oriun moved swiftly and confidently, vanishing from sight around a sharp bend. Sil quickened his pace, urgency spurring him onward, only to find himself abruptly standing alone in a dimly lit passageway. A shiver crawled ominously up his spine as realization dawned—he had lost track of Oriun.
He pivoted quickly, attempting to retrace his steps, only to find himself disoriented at a junction of identical corridors. The oppressive silence pressed heavily upon him, amplifying his anxiety. Sil's instincts screamed in warning, every nerve alert as he strained his senses desperately, seeking any hint of Oriun's whereabouts.
Then, with startling clarity, a faint rustle sounded from ahead, barely audible yet undeniably present. Sil froze, heart thundering in his chest, every fiber of his being attuned to the threat now lurking nearby. Goosebumps prickled along his skin as adrenaline surged through his veins.
Sil steadied himself, preparing silently, mentally bracing for an imminent assault. The darkness around him seemed alive, pulsing with unseen menace, each second stretching into agonizing anticipation.He cursed himself inwardly for running off and leaving his brothers at risk. Just as that thought settled in his mind, the first strike fell.
Like a ghost, or a shadow— he did not see the attacker, just felt the powerful blow to his back. Strong enough to completely knock the wind out of him. He spun from instinct alone, still trying to regain his breath. He barely spun in time to catch the combatant moving in with another strike.
Sil was prepared this time, and was able to throw his arm out to block. As his arm shot out, muscular forearm ready to take the brunt of the incoming strike, it occured to him— he was still invisible.
Bewilderment momentarily left him off guard. He nearly took a strike directly to the face, moving just a moment too late and so the hit grazed the side of his head. He took the opportunity to grab the attackers arm and attempted to pull them over onto their back.
They were incredibly heavy and things didn't quite go to plan. Basically he just accomplished throwing them off balance so that they crashed into him. They jumped up, and scrambled to their feet. Both of them resumed a fighting stance.
He could not make out any facial features, the light was very low in that part of the maze of cooridoors, making it nearly impossible. Even if the light were on his side, they covered their face with a hood.
Whoever this was, they were fast and they were skilled—highly trained, movements betraying disciplined finesse and brutal efficiency. Sil's mind raced with tactical analysis, adrenaline sharpening his focus to a blade's edge. The attacker surged again, hands striking like serpents in precise, the targeted blows of a martial style that Sil identified immediately, recognizing the fluid center-line strikes and tight, disciplined footwork.
Each strike, each counter was executed with split-second precision. They moved in a violent dance, exchanging blows, the sharp snap of impacts echoing subtly in the dark hall. With a feining jab, Sil lured the figure's hand low, or so he thought, without warning they moved, quickly snapping him into an arm lock, twisting, forcing him to his knees with a harsh cry of pain.
Panting slightly, Sil grimaced as they tightened their grip, leaning close, voice cold, edged with authority. "Who are you, and why are you here?"
Suddenly another hooded figure emerged from the shadows. The figure raised their hooded face slowly, lips curving in a chilling smile beneath luminous, predatory eyes. A soft chuckle slithered from the shadows beneath the hood, rich with mockery and menace. "Oh, Godslayer. I've been waiting for you."
His blood ran cold as recognition—and dread—tightened around him like a vice.