A breath.
A heartbeat.
Then--
"Found him."
A few sharp exhales ran along the air -- a few residents stepping back from the scene. There was no hiding Bast any more.
The guard nearest to the crates shifted sharply, visor angling down to a faint slither of movement Bast had caused. Damp stone had pulsed with the rhythm of his heartbeat running wild. Every exhale felt prickly against his throat.
'No...no, no. Not now.'
They knew. This time for certain.
Silver's head turned to the other guards; their hands growing cautious to their sides.
"Approach slowly," he murmured to his other subordinates. The group followed his orders, stepping closer to the one guard who was within a few metres of the crates and shadowy curtain.
"We know you're hiding in there," Silver called out, his voice sharp.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Each step punched the air out of Bast's lungs as he saw them closing in.
'What do I do? What do I do?'
Suddenly, new lines of text flooded his vision as sweat crowded his forehead -- his vision slightly dimming, as a faint warmth pulsed through his palm.
[User in severe distress detected.]
[Choice or Chance required.]
[Flip to decide]
Bast's breath hitched. "What does flipping even do?" he whispered, barely aware he'd spoken -- the stress taking form.
For a moment, nothing had changed... then the letters shifted -- rearranging themselves like dripping rain.
[Outcome depends on risk.]
[Minimal risk = minimal result.]
[Greater risk = greater reward.]
His pulse slammed through the back of his head.
"What... what risk?" he breathed.
At this point, the whispers were so loud... a few could hear his muffled words. 'He's finished...'
As the world seemed to move slower, the relic answered again, almost patient:
[Your intent determines the stake.]
[Flip, and the Coin will answer.]
A cold shiver ran up his spine, raising the hairs on his neck. The steps outside grew louder -- wet boots sinking into mud, splashing closer; their movements heavily monitored by Silver as-well as the surrounding watchers.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
The crate he hid behind seemed to creak and groan with each footfall.
Bast swallowed hard -- his fingers pressing the coin tight under his thumb.
"What happens if I choose wrong?" he whispered.
The relic responded instantly.
[There is no wrong.]
[Only cost.]
His stomach dropped at the words.
Thud. Thud.
The guard's shadows swallowed the last few silvers of space between them. One more step. One more breath. And Bast would be seen.
His thumb twitched over the coin -- hesitating with the choice. It wasn't long, it was just enough.
No.
Thud.
They were going to see him! Everyone watching around stood still, their hearts in their throats. The old man with the pipe shook his head slightly -- it was over.
Dink!
The sound was soft, impossibly so -- but it cut through the alley louder than anything... There it was again, that same sound.
Bast's breath hitched... he hadn't flipped it.
He watched in shock as the coin... it had spun on its own. Right out of his palm. It hit the ground, spinning so fast, the rain had struggled to coat it -- a blur of bronze floating.
It hit the ground with a metallic snap, prompting a slight jolt in some of the guards.
A new text slammed into his vision:
[Indecision detected.]
[User Input: Absent]
[Chance has taken control.]
[Risk Assessment: Unknown.]
'I--Indecision?' Bast stared, his eyes widening. The words didn't stop there... it continued down, prompting more thoughts within Bast's shelled amber eyes.
[Intent Interpreted: Escape immediate danger]
"What was that?" Silver's head snapped.
Everyone watched perplexed, whilst Bast knelt behind the crates still.
The guards stiffened -- a result because of hearing Silver's voice harden. The man took one slow step forward as his lips parted.
"Stop!" Silver barked, the shout landing with a slam. The air cracked. A ripple had torn through the alley, faint but real... it was like the air had been plucked like a string.
"Relic resonance...." Silver muttered, his chest hardening, as his gaze went cold.
At the same time, Bast stared at the ever changing words above -- the coin laying on the floor; its appearance looking innocent.
[Outcome: Intervention Granted]
Something changed as everyone stood still. 'Why'd he tell us to stop?' Some of the guards questioned. They didn't feel exactly what their superior knew, but they felt... off. A few street rats watched through sparks of fire -- their expressions ghastly. There was consensus thought in the air, amongst everyone.... 'What's going on?'.
Then--
CRACK!
It was sudden. Even the rain seemed to hesitate for a breath. For a heartbeat, the whole alley held still. A crate beside a close guard to Bast split. Not by force. Not by impact. It was by... 'luck'. A single rusted nail, loosened by months of rain and decay, finally gave at the exact moment they had lined up.
The crate toppled -- harder than it should have.
Wood snapped. Splinters burst. The guards barely had time before they were swallowed by the collapse.
"W--What!"
"Move out the way!"
The guards yelled, but it was too late. The piles of crates had sunk into their chests; catapulting them back to the floor -- their superior watching it all, a few metres away. A shock ran through the air.... but that wasn't all.
A sharp gust of wind tore through the alley... not the normal kind.
Then--
Fwwpp!
Every flame alive in a metal bin died at once. Not dimmed. Not flickered. Died. They all died at the exact same time -- the whole area was shrouded in darkness, at the same time a pile of crates toppled over a few of the guards.
"What happened?" "D-Dar--"
"Mom--"
"Wha--"
A multitude of previously quiet voices spoke up all at once. The Warrens had been pulled into darkness. The old man with the pipe almost choked on a pull of smoke. The burly man of before straightened as his eyes strained in the dark. Silver's gaze snapped back to the corner Bast was presumed to be hidden -- his posture sharpening.
He drew a cold breath as the corner of his eyes went dark. 'Relic use....' The thought came as dark as his surroundings.
Bast stared, breath shallow. It was dark, but he could see and hear the groans of the guards scattered across the wet ground.
He hadn't touched them. He hadn't even stood up.
"What...?" he whispered. 'What happened?'
A warm sensation filled his hand. It was the coin.
When had he picked it back up?
"It's too dark!" "I can't see all that well."
The mumbles and voices filled Bast's ears. He didn't know what to think...
But something told him... he wouldn't get another chance to run, if not now.
'I have to go...' he thought, his muscles twitching right before motion.
Before he even could, a new line of text slid across his vision, slow as bleeding ink.
[Outcome delivered.]
[Payment pending.]
His pulse froze.
Another line appeared beneath it:
[Advice: flee.]
'Huh...'
[Remaining in close proximity during collection may be hazardous]
"H-Hazardous to who?" he whispered.
The coin didn't answer.
Behind the crates, one of the guards groaned and tried to push himself up, slipping in the mud. Another spat blood. A faint silhouette seemed to be approaching quickly -- closing the distance with precision.
Was it Silver?
Bast tightened his grip. Payment pending. He didn't know what it meant. But everything told him the same thing--
Run.