Dust rose from the ruins of the abandoned factory like a ghost rising from a mass grave, a thick cloud of ash and despair stretching across the sky of the besieged city. Deep below, beneath the rubble and dead memories, Tiflos stood at the edge of a crack in the shattered ceiling, his silver eyes—like twin mirrors reflecting the world's agony—capturing the hidden energy vibrations clashing through the city like waves of a raging sea. He felt every ripple carrying a suppressed scream, every thread of energy like an artery bleeding wrath. His fingers clung to the cold concrete edge as one clings to the brink of an abyss.
"It begins…" he whispered in his hoarse voice, as if the words themselves were turning into shards of fate in his mouth.
Noor approached him cautiously, her hands holding a cup of water that trembled like her heart. Her light steps on the scattered sand were like the dying city's heartbeat. "Who begins? And what begins?"
Tiflos did not open his eyes, but his fingers convulsed on the edge of the opening as if gripping the city's throat. "Cain… I feel the fog of his illusions seeping into every wave, like a spider weaving its web in the dark. Every cry from the Seventh Squad fades into the air… and Orion… he's there, in the heart of the trap, at the Organization, by Cain's side."
His voice trembled slightly, as if his brother's name carried a treacherous stab to his side. Within him, a battle raged between brother and beloved, between blood and duty. He remembered the moment he last saw Orion—those red eyes that once brimmed with innocence, now holding a strange glint, the glint of danger and suppressed rage.
"My brother thinks he's choosing his path, but he's walking the trail Cain drew for him." Tiflos said, finally opening his eyes, the distant city lights reflected in them like shooting stars burning in the night sky.
Noor placed her hand on his shoulder, feeling how it tensed under her touch. "We cannot save him by force, Tiflos. We must be smarter than Cain."
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At that moment, across the city in the towering government palace, Arcanus stood before his office window like a bronze statue, his single Golden Eye radiating a power that melted hesitation. The city beneath his feet was like a sick body convulsing in its limbs. His fingers interlaced behind his back pressed together so tightly the bones nearly ground against each other.
"Cain has dared to challenge us…" he whispered, and his voice was like the clang of swords in the silence of night.
The young advisor standing a few steps away trembled, his eyes becoming a sea of doubts. "Sir, the reports are incomplete… the attack could be a trap! The Seventh Phoenix Squad was one of our best units, it's inconceivable Cain would send them to be wiped out so easily."
Arcanus exploded as if a volcano had erupted in his chest: "There is no room for doubt in a war of existence! Cain is no longer under our control or playing games… he is declaring the end of the world! And our men… our heroes…" His voice cut through the silence like a knife, then Arcanus turned to the advisor with eyes bearing the fires of hell: "Your order is clear. Mobilize all forces. We will answer this insult with a fire akin to our hell."
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Underground, in the Resistance's secret headquarters whose walls resembled scarred skin from bitter memories, Tiflos stood before a holographic map glowing like a false witness to the coming massacre. The blue and green lights reflected on his pale face, casting shifting shadows on the bare walls. He felt the weight of every glowing point on the map, each representing souls that could vanish overnight.
"We cannot remain idle…" he said, his voice carrying the weight of mountains, "Cain is playing a dangerous game, and Orion has become a piece in it."
Elias, the old man whose wrinkles carried more than memory, shook his head bitterly. His sunken eyes shone with wisdom born of long suffering. "And the state? Do we forget how they burned our homes and killed our children? How they destroyed the entire Twilight District because its residents refused to submit?"
"I don't trust them…" Tiflos answered, his voice echoing with suffering, "But sometimes you must dance with the devil to save a soul from hell. Orion… my brother…" He paused for a moment, as if the word "brother" caught in his throat like a thorn, "Cain is turning him into a weapon, and if we don't act now, I may never be able to save him."
Noor stood in the shadows, watching Tiflos's eyes and reading in them the battle between brother and beloved, between blood and duty. She felt his pain as if it were her own. She remembered how she lost her family in the Spectrum Tribe Massacre, how the pain never fades, but turns into scars on the soul.
"If we decide to cooperate with the state, we must set our own terms," said Noor, her voice carrying unexpected steel. "We will not be mere soldiers in their army. We fight for a future we believe in, not for a power we despise."
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