The flickering torchlight in the lodge cast long, dancing shadows against the walls, mirroring the turbulence in Nephis's heart. She looked at Cassie, whose face was ghostly pale, her sightless eyes wide as if still perceiving the lingering echoes of a nightmare.
Nephis leaned forward, her voice low and urgent. "What exactly did you see, Cassie? Tell me everything."
Cassie took a ragged breath, her hands clutching the fabric of her tunic. For a moment, she was no longer in the Dark City; she was pulled back into the swirling vortex of the future. Visions were a heavy burden, a gift that felt more like a curse, and this one had left a mark of ice upon her soul.
"It started like the others," Cassie whispered, her voice trembling. "The vision formed suddenly. I thought it might be about the Forgotten Shore—about the exit, or the monsters lurking in the Crimson Spire. But the world I saw was drowning in fire."
She paused, shivering. "The sky was crimson, and the ground was nothing but debris and ash. The buildings were shattered, reduced to skeletons of stone. From the ruins, two women emerged. One was Fors Wall."
Nephis narrowed her eyes.
"She was standing over someone," Cassie continued, her breath hitching. "She held a blade, and she stabbed it directly into the heart of a woman. A beautiful woman. Nephis... I recognized her. Anyone who has seen the old holos would recognize her."
Cassie's voice dropped to a terrified whimper. "It was the Smile of Heaven. Your mother."
Nephis froze. The air in the room seemed to solidify, turning into lead. Her mother was a Hollow, a shell of a human being kept in a vegetative state back in the real world. To hear of her death in a vision of the future—and at the hands of an ally—was a physical blow.
"Fors looked down at her," Cassie said, "and her voice was like grinding stone. She said, 'Die, you bitch.' Then, the vision shattered."
"My mother is a Hollow," Nephis countered, her voice strained with a mixture of grief and disbelief. "She cannot move".
"She moved in the vision," Cassie insisted, her grip tightening on Nephis's arm. "She was alive, and Fors ended her. But that wasn't the end. The vision shifted. It moved to my home."
Cassie's eyes filled with fresh tears. "Everything was destroyed. My family home... the gardens... all of it was ruins. In the center of it, I saw a metal spear driven into the floor. My mother's head was piked on it. It was... deformed. Mutated. Like a nightmare creature."
She choked back a sob. "Standing before her was Alista Tudor. He was drenched in blood. The rest of my mother's body lay at his feet, a mass of mutated flesh. Alista wasn't looking at her, though. He was staring at the ceiling, looking at something I couldn't see. He looked like a god of slaughter."
The room grew silent as the weight of the prophecy settled over them.
"Then," Cassie whispered, "a woman appeared. She wore a deep hood, her face obscured. Alista didn't seem surprised. He looked at her and said, 'For a dead person, you roam a lot, Trissy Cheek.'"
Nephis's brow furrowed. "Trissy Cheek? I never heard of it."
"The woman responded coldly," Cassie recounted. "'That is because men like you still exist.' Alista didn't even flinch. He just looked at her and said, 'Lady, there are no men like me...' and then he smiled. 'There is only me.'"
The vision ended there, leaving Cassie gasping for air in the present. Nephis sat back, her mind racing. Alista Tudor and Fors Wall. Two people who had walked beside them, now cast as the architects of their greatest tragedies.
"So both of them Kills our mothers" Nephis asked, her voice hollow.
"Yes," Cassie replied, her face etched with a profound sadness. "That is why they cannot be allowed to remain. We have to kill them both, Nephis. My intuition... it screams at me. Fors is the more immediate threat, perhaps even more dangerous than Alista, but both are harbingers of ruin."
Nephis stood up, her grey eyes burning with a cold, white flame. The path forward was narrowing. If the future demanded blood to prevent these horrors, she would not hesitate to spill it.
"We know what the future holds now," Nephis said firmly. "We will find the keys to escape this place, and when the time comes, we will have our chance. If it is our will to survive, who dares to stop us?"
The following morning, the sun rose over the Dark City, casting a sickly yellow light over the ruins. Alista Tudor walked through the outer settlements, his hands buried in his pockets.
To a casual observer, the people here looked happy—or at least, as happy as one could be in a death trap. They were organizing, building, and hoping. But Alista knew better. He saw the cracks in the foundation. A war was coming, a clash of ideologies and steel, and the casualties would be astronomical.
'Everything is moving toward the breaking point,' Alista thought. 'And then there's my red-haired twin. My "other" who made a mess of things in Bastion, specifically in that Mirror World. I have to settle the matters here in the Forgotten Shore first... then I'll deal with him.'
As he crossed the plaza, he spotted the Changing Star's cohort. He noticed immediately that Sunny was missing. A small, knowing smirk tugged at his lips.
'Expected. He's gone off on his own path. From here on, it's a race of beliefs and survival.'
Suddenly, he felt eyes on him. Nephis and Cassie had both turned their heads in unison, staring directly at him. Their expressions were grim, lacking even the polite mask they usually wore. Even Cassie, who usually offered a soft smile, looked at him with a chilling intensity.
Alista raised a hand and waved casually, but the two women didn't respond. They simply watched him until he passed.
'Okay...' Alista thought, his smile faltering. 'What the hell was that about?'
Shaking off the unease, he made his way to Artemis's quarters. When he entered, he found the room in a state of meticulous order—a stark contrast to the chaos of the city outside. On the floor, Gwen and Fors were still deep in sleep, their breathing rhythmic and heavy.
Artemis, however, was wide awake. She wore simple athletic gear, her skin glistening with sweat as she finished a grueling set of exercises. She looked up as Alista entered, her sharp features focused.
"You're early," she noted, wiping her brow with a towel.
Alista smiled, leaning against the doorframe. "Well, I came to check on these two. Are they making themselves at home?"
Artemis glanced at the sleeping pair. "They are. In fact, we stayed up late playing a game. Truth or Dare."
Alista let out a short laugh. "Really? Now I'm curious. What kind of dare did a Princess of the Valor Clan have to perform?"
Artemis's expression turned icy. "I have no intention of telling you that."
Alista chuckled and turned his gaze toward Fors, who was snoring softly. Before he could make a joke, Artemis's voice cut through the air, regaining his full attention.
"Alista, I have an offer for you."
Alista raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "An offer? From you? This should be interesting."
"Join the Valor Clan," she said directly.
Alista blinked, genuinely stunned. "Join a Great Clan? Why the sudden recruitment drive? I thought you Legacies looked down on people like me."
Artemis stood tall, her gaze unwavering. "You've seen that I haven't tried to kill you. Despite everything, I'm conflicted. My family says there is no twin for you, no biological record of a brother. Yet, there is someone out there who looks exactly like you, acting with your face."
She stepped closer. "You need to be inside the clan to investigate this. Joining a Legacy is beneficial for your growth, and your presence would allow us to solve the mystery of your double. It's a pragmatic arrangement."
Alista went quiet, considering her words. The politics of the Great Clans were a viper's nest, but Artemis was right about one thing: the "other" was a problem he couldn't ignore.
"Before I give you an answer," Alista said, "tell me exactly what my 'copy' did to cause such a stir."
Artemis sighed, a shadow of genuine concern crossing her face. "I'll keep it brief. He freed an 'Other'—a creature that is a spiritual reflection of the people in the Bastion. It sounds simple, but these reflections are incredibly dangerous. They mimic us, but they possess none of our humanity. He let one loose and vanished."
Alista frowned. "Whose reflection was it?"
"That is a secret," Artemis replied, her frown deepening. "Even I don't know the identity of the person it mimicked. But my Uncle Anvil is deadly serious about it. Finding your double has become a first-priority mission for the clan."
Alista looked at the floor, his mind spinning. Investigating the copy was necessary, but the thought of bowing to a Great Clan rubbed him the wrong way.
"I'll help with the investigation," Alista said finally, his voice firm. "But as for joining Valor... I'm not convinced yet. I value my freedom too much to sell it for a title."
Artemis nodded slowly, a flicker of respect—and perhaps a bit of expectation—appearing in her eyes. 'As I thought,' she mused. 'He isn't the type to bow.'
"That's fair," she said aloud. "Then we proceed as allies for now. Let's see where this path leads."
As Alista turned to leave, he couldn't help but feel that the webs of the future were tightening around all of them, woven by hands much older and more dangerous than their own.
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