Arcane: Sea of ​​blood

The walls, covered in rust and graffiti, seemed to hold the stories of those who once worked here. The dim light of the lamps hanging from the ceiling cast long shadows that danced on the walls as if alive. Abel felt slightly apathetic, still recovering from the lingering effects of the shimmer.

Silco, standing opposite him, was calm. His dark gaze, as always, was full of calculation. He spoke of cooperation, of mutual benefit, but Abel understood that there was more behind every word. Silco was not the type to reveal all his cards at once.

Abel nodded, but his mind was already racing. He understood that Silco still didn't fully trust him, which was logical, given that Silco hadn't yet revealed the existence of the creator of the Flicker, Sanjed. Abel could sense Sanjed's weak, anxious breathing in the next room, thanks to his heightened senses. For now, Abel decided not to bring it up. He knew the time for that would come.

"What's the first assignment?" Abel asked, his voice calm.

Silco smiled and narrowed his eyes.

"You'll go to the Upper City. There, in the workshop of one of the Academy's students, are tools that might be useful to me. Your task is to retrieve them. But remember: no one should see you. If you're discovered, kill the witnesses and burn the workshop. For that, I'll give you something."

He handed Abel a small glass container filled with a thick alchemical liquid. It glowed faintly with a yellow light, adding a dancing firelight to the atmosphere.

"This will ignite upon breaking," Silco explained. "Be careful."

Abel took the container, feeling its weight in his hand. He assumed this mission wouldn't be easy. The Upper City was a place where every step could be your last, especially now, as he was still recovering from the aftermath of the massacre. But he also knew this was a chance to deepen their cooperation. After all, both sides needed to benefit.

The night in the Upper City was bright and noisy. The light from the lanterns illuminated the streets, casting a festive glow on the passersby. The air was filled with the scent of freshly baked bread and expensive perfumes. Abel, still wearing his tattered protective suit and a new mask with a filter, moved across the rooftops, trying to remain unnoticed. His eyes, glowing in the dark, scanned every shadow, every corner. He knew that one wrong move could ruin everything. He couldn't afford to take the careless approach of the kids from the series he'd seen—those days when they went on missions seemed like a peaceful dream compared to what Abel was facing now.

The workshop he was looking for was in one of the buildings near the Academy. Abel quietly descended from the roof and, using his claws, scaled the wall to enter through an open window.

The room was filled with tables cluttered with tools, blueprints, and strange mechanisms. Motivational posters hung on the walls, covering homemade bookshelves stuffed with fiction. A creative person's room, Abel thought.

Following Silco's description, Abel began gathering what he needed, occasionally pausing to figure out how the peculiar mechanism he was supposed to take should look. Suddenly, he heard voices. Abel froze, listening. He realized people were heading toward the room. Without wasting time, he pushed off the wall with a swift motion, digging his claws into the ceiling, causing some plaster to crumble.

Two people entered the room: the workshop owner and a peacekeeper. Oblivious to their surroundings, they were absorbed in each other. Holding hands, they chatted about recent inventions, a concert they'd enjoyed, and how wonderful the city of progress was.

"Did you see how they performed on stage?" the student laughed. "It was incredible!"

"Yes," the peacekeeper agreed. "But what I liked most was how your creation made their concert so beautiful."

Abel, hidden on the ceiling, his claws gripping the concrete, watched them. His heart beat slightly faster, but he remained calm. He assumed these lovebirds wouldn't notice him even if he stood right in front of them.

But then the student froze, his gaze falling on the table.

"Hey, where are my tools?" he muttered, starting to rummage through the clutter. "They should be here!"

His voice grew tense, his movements hurried, as if something truly important was missing. At that moment, Abel knew he couldn't delay any longer. His empty scarlet eyes glowed indifferently in the dark, and as he removed his mask, the room began to fill with a poisonous mist. White vapor escaped his mouth with every breath, enveloping everything around them.

"What is this?" the peacekeeper exclaimed, her voice growing hoarse. "What's happening?"

They began to cough, their eyes watering, their limbs growing numb. The student and the peacekeeper rushed toward the exit, but Abel was already upon them. He dropped from the ceiling, his claws gleaming in the dim light. With one swift motion, he slit the student's throat, then the peacekeeper's. Their bodies collapsed to the floor, their blood mingling with the toxic mist.

Two lifeless bodies fell to the ground, and a dull thud echoed through the silent laboratory. Abel stood over them, his breathing heavy. He felt no trembling in his hands, no rush of adrenaline—it seemed this act had become so routine that it now left only emptiness in its wake. But then something strange caught his attention. As the peacekeeper's body fell, something shattered beneath it. The faint sound of breaking glass, barely audible, made Abel kneel down.

Turning over the peacekeeper's corpse, his gaze fell on the shards of a glass rose. It was magnificent, even broken. Each petal was crafted with such precision that it seemed almost alive. Abel froze. His heart, which had been barely beating moments ago, now pounded with renewed force. He recognized that rose. It was exactly like the ones his friend Eric used to make at the orphanage.

His red eyes, usually cold and emotionless, widened. His pulse quickened, and a wave of emotions he had long thought impossible surged through him. With trembling hands, he turned over the student's body. The face, hidden beneath a festive mask, gradually came into view. With every centimeter, every feature, Abel felt a lump rising in his throat.

When the face was fully revealed, Abel froze. Before him lay Eric. The same Eric he had spent his childhood with. The one who had shown him that the world could be beautiful, who had inspired him, who had been one of the few to give him a reason to live. And now he lay there, lifeless, his gaze fixed on the ceiling, filled with reluctance.

Abel dropped to his knees, his bloodstained hands trembling. He stared at his friend's face, memories flooding his mind. They had laughed together, shared dreams, made plans for the future. Eric had always believed the world could be changed, that even in the darkest corners, light could be found. And now that light was gone.

Abel covered his face with his hands, his fingers digging into his skin. Slowly, a pain grew within him, so intense that he could no longer tell whether it was his body or his soul that hurt. When he felt he was about to explode, a silent scream tore from his chest, filled with pain, hatred, and despair. Hatred for the world that had taken everything from him. Hatred for the people around him. Hatred for himself, for failing to protect the one who had been dear to him, for failing to protect what Eric and Lina had nurtured in him. And denial. Denial that this was reality. Denial of who he had become, who he was, and who he had wanted to be.

The scream faded, leaving silence in its wake. Abel lowered his hands, his gaze unfocused, his body no longer trembling. He sat on the floor, surrounded by blood and shards of the glass rose, his thoughts drifting far away. Memories of the orphanage, of the days spent with Eric, of their dreams of the future, of the beautiful world Eric had wanted to create. And now it had all turned to dust.

Blood still dripped from his hands, his unfocused gaze fixed on Eric's lifeless face. Time seemed to stand still. He didn't know how many minutes, or perhaps hours, had passed. His consciousness was drowning in a sea of memories and pain. But then the sound of footsteps snapped him out of his trance. They were approaching the laboratory, heavy and hurried.

Abel jerked his head up, his instincts kicking in instantly. He knew time was running out. He pulled out the alchemical vial Silco had given him and smashed it between the bodies. The golden liquid spread across the surface and immediately burst into bright flames. The fire began to spread rapidly, consuming everything in its path.

Abel glanced at the peacekeeper's body. He couldn't leave without being sure. Reluctantly, as if afraid of what he might see, he tore off the peacekeeper's mask. His gaze swept over the face, and he exhaled heavily. It wasn't Lina. Not her.

With a mix of relief and bitterness, Abel fastened the mask to the straps of his protective suit. He quickly scaled the wall to the ceiling, his claws gripping the concrete. His movements were precise and silent, like a shadow. Just as he reached the top, the laboratory door burst open.

A man rushed into the room. He looked bewildered, his eyes wide with horror at the sight of the fire and the bodies on the floor. Probably a friend or assistant of Eric's. He took a step forward, intending to pull the bodies from the flames, but suddenly his legs gave way. He clutched his throat, coughing, and realized the air in the room was poisoned. His lungs burned, and his body grew heavier with each passing second.

Realizing he too might die, the man cast one last glance at the bodies, then, with great effort, turned and ran out of the room. This gave Abel his chance. He dropped from the ceiling and, as if forgetting about the window he'd entered through, walked out the door, his movements mechanical, like a robot's.

As he moved through the corridors of the workshop, Abel heard noise outside. Finding the nearest balcony, he saw peacekeepers already rushing toward the building. Their armored figures pushed through the crowd of onlookers drawn by the fire. Two peacekeepers were bent over the man who had just run out of the building. He was unconscious, his face pale, his breathing ragged. They tried to revive him, but the poison had already done its work.

Abel knew the streets would soon be swarming with people, and the bridge would be heavily guarded. He needed to disappear, and quickly. With that thought, he leaped onto the nearest roof, about five meters away. Slipping away like a cloud in the night sky, he took one last look at the flames dancing in the night before hurrying off.

Moving across the rooftops, his red eyes scanned the area. Beneath the city, he felt a faint pulse. It was the network of roots left by his ability, "Blood is Pricier Than Life." They stretched in all directions, like underground rivers. Not wanting to cross the bridge teeming with peacekeepers, Abel focused, trying to understand where they led.

Finally, he found an inconspicuous sewer grate in a narrow alley. Though unfamiliar, it evoked memories. With a heavy sigh, and after making sure this route would lead him to the Undercity, he opened the grate and, without hesitation, plunged into the darkness.