The tension in the mayor's office was suffocating, like the calm before a storm. The heroes stood around the table, their heads hung low, the weight of their failure hanging heavily in the air. Mayor Eldric Voss, usually a calm, collected figure, was seething with anger now, his voice a crackling thunder as he tore into them.
"You," the mayor growled, his eyes flashing with fury, "are just kids. You were never ready for this. I told you, this town—these people—weren't some adventure you could walk into with no plan. But you all went ahead anyway, and now look where we are."
Diana, her jaw tightening, stepped forward, her fists clenching at her sides as her voice rose in defiance. "We are 18, Eldric. Old enough to fight, old enough to protect. We didn't come here to play pretend."
Kael, ever the strategist, kept his posture rigid. His voice was laced with frustration, a mixture of exhaustion and the need to explain. "We didn't fail. We tried. The succubus caught us off guard. No one expected it to be this dangerous."
The mayor scoffed, his face flushed with anger. "You think that makes it any better? You think that excuses the fact that Rein is gone, because of your incompetence? He's been taken. And you—" His finger jabbed toward each of them, making his point. "You were too blinded by your own pride to stop it. You've lost him, and now the town is as good as lost, too."
Diana's mouth opened to argue, but the mayor silenced her with a harsh tone.
"Don't you dare deny it," he hissed. "You think you're ready to be heroes? To save this town? You don't even understand the cost of what you're getting into. You've failed. You failed him." His gaze lingered on Rein's empty seat, the hollow reminder of their failure.
The silence in the room grew thick and oppressive, a suffocating weight that threatened to crush the heroes under its pressure. They stood frozen, unable to speak in the face of the mayor's bitter condemnation. The only sounds were the ticking of the clock on the wall and the faint rustling of papers on the desk.
Kael opened his mouth to speak again, but the mayor's next words cut him off sharply.
"You're not ready for this," Eldric muttered, his voice softer now, almost mournful. "You're just children, with no understanding of the cost of being a hero. You've lost Rein because of that."
The words hit like a slap across the face. Kael clenched his fists harder, but Diana, ever the stubborn one, couldn't hold her tongue.
"We're not children," she spat, her words dripping with defiance. "We're adults, Eldric. Old enough to make our own decisions and live with the consequences. We didn't come here to fail."
The mayor's gaze softened, but only slightly. He shook his head, his features pinched in frustration. "And yet, here we are. You've lost him, and now you must deal with that. Do you even understand what's at stake? What Rein was trying to do? It wasn't just about this town. He—" The mayor's voice cracked as he spoke, a fleeting moment of vulnerability that surprised them all. "He was a child, too. A child who never had a chance to be a child."
The room fell silent again, the air thick with the weight of the mayor's words. The pain in his eyes was clear now, as if he was grieving something far deeper than just the loss of Rein. The young heroes stood at the precipice of something much larger than their inexperience could grasp. They were facing the consequences of their actions, but none of them had ever truly understood the depth of the responsibility they had taken on.
Diana's face softened for a moment, but the fire in her eyes didn't die. She wasn't going to back down. Not now. "We will find him," she said firmly. "We didn't fail, and we won't give up on him. Rein's our responsibility, and we will bring him back."
Kael nodded in agreement, his tone sharp and resolute. "We won't let him be taken away without a fight. We'll make it right."
The mayor's expression twisted, and his voice grew cold again. "You've already made things worse. And what happens when you go after him? Will you be prepared to face what lies ahead? Are you prepared to lose more? To face the consequences of your failure?"
The words rang in their ears, louder than anything else. But there was something more, something lurking beneath the surface of their struggle. It was not just about Rein anymore. It was about proving themselves, about showing they weren't the children the mayor thought them to be.
As they struggled to find their voices, a soft rustle from the far corner of the room caught their attention. It was barely noticeable, a sound so slight it almost seemed like the wind, but it was enough. Diana's head whipped around, her eyes scanning the shadows in the dimly lit room.
There, just beyond the doorway, stood a figure—almost imperceptible in the dim light. Emilia. Her dark figure blended into the shadows, her presence undetected by the others.
She had been there all along, standing just out of view, silently listening. Her body was still, poised with a quiet intensity as her sharp eyes observed the exchange. And in those eyes—there was no pity. There was no sympathy for the young heroes.
Her anger was palpable, a quiet fury simmering beneath her calm exterior. She could hear the mayor's words, the accusations, the blame. It stung, but what stung more was the foolishness of it all. They had no idea. They had no idea what it meant to fail. What it meant to lose.
The dark thoughts swirling in her mind turned sharper, more dangerous, as she let the anger fuel her. She had already seen the consequences of such failure before, years ago, when she had watched Rein—her Rein—be taken away. She had failed him once. Now, she had to make sure it didn't happen again. But standing in the shadows, watching these young heroes so full of misguided confidence, it made her blood boil.
Her hands clenched into fists, nails digging into the stone wall beside her as she took a slow, deliberate breath, her chest rising and falling in a controlled manner.
"Just kids," she muttered under her breath, her voice a barely audible whisper. "You know nothing of loss. Nothing of real pain."
As the mayor's voice cut through the thick silence again, Emilia's lips curled into a silent snarl.
"Don't you dare underestimate me," she thought, her voice a storm brewing within her. "You will not bring him back. I'll do it myself."
The words rang with finality, as she turned, her figure vanishing into the night, her presence unknown to the others.
The heroes remained oblivious, their emotions still raw, and their resolve still unbroken. But Emilia was already gone, slipping into the shadows, where she would wait. Waiting for the right moment to act. To take control. To protect Rein.