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Underground Lair
The old man moved slowly through the dim chamber, hands clasped behind his back, the weight of silence pressing on every step. His face was tightly drawn, brow furrowed in permanent displeasure. Dressed in fine, ceremonial robes, he exuded the quiet authority of someone who belonged among the elite.
Two figures in black approached, the metal stretcher's wheels groaning under the weight of the body bag they carried.
"Sir," one of them said, "we've brought what you requested."
"Good," the man replied coldly. "Take it to the old fool."
Beyond the carved stone doors stood a towering statue of a goddess — her face serene, yet commanding. In front of her, incense burned in a bronze bowl, the smoke curling around the withered figure of an elderly priest. He muttered low incantations under his breath, his eyes closed in worship.
The guards dropped the body bags at the foot of the shrine, and the suited man followed.
The priest's voice sharpened, cutting through the incense haze. "What is the meaning of this?"
"I should ask you the same," the chief growled. "I told you to wait. But you went ahead, and now the people know you exist."
The priest smiled faintly. "And that troubles you?"
"You said the goddess would grant me power — not chaos. Now the streets are crawling with fear."
"Fear is power," the old man replied. "You wanted control, and she is giving you just that — by loosening your grip on their minds."
"It's too soon. They're not ready."
"They're ripe," the priest corrected. "The enemy already holds the final piece — the one you failed to recover. This is our only defense."
The chief's jaw tightened. "And the ones above?"
"The goddess will deal with them. You, on the other hand, must eliminate the threats — especially the one who holds the Spirit of the Water. Find her. Kill her. Before time runs out."
The chief nodded slowly. "We'll do our part. Don't fail on yours."
"I won't," the priest said with quiet certainty. Then, glancing at the bodies with contempt, he added, "Now dispose of these. Their stench insults the goddess."
"You heard him," the chief barked to his men. "Burn them."
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On the Road
"What did you see?" Efe's voice broke the silence, steady as he focused on the road.
Ire's head snapped toward him. How did he know? Her breath hitched as realization dawned. He knew—he knew she saw something.
"Stop the car," she demanded, her voice cracking.
He hesitated. "It's not safe right now."
"How do you know that?" she whispered, her panic rising. "I want to get out. Stop the car or I'll jump."
Efe shot her a glance but said nothing.
The door suddenly creaked open. Wind rushed in. Ire leaned forward, preparing to leap.
"Are you crazy?!" Efe shouted, slamming the brakes. The car skidded to a stop, kicking up dust along the roadside.
Before he could stop her, Ire jumped out and bolted. Her feet hit the pavement hard, the thudding echo of her heart in her ears.
"Wait!" Efe yelled after her.
But she didn't look back.
Efe cursed under his breath and took off after her, his breaths growing heavy as he struggled to keep up.
"Why are you following me?" Ire snapped, glancing over her shoulder. Confusion clouded her face as she picked up her pace, trying to widen the distance between them.
"I'm guessing… you don't know where you're going?" he panted.
"I do! Stop following me!"
"I can't. You're my responsibility."
That strange confession brought her to a halt. She turned sharply, backing away as Efe caught up, still breathing hard.
"Who are you?" she demanded. "What do you want from me?"
"Relax," Efe said gently, raising his hands in a calming gesture. "I understand what you're going through. You want answers — and I have them. But only if you can trust me."
From under his shirt, he pulled out a familiar beaded necklace — the same type as hers, but instead of a silver fish, his bore the shape of a cat.
Her eyes widened. The sight disarmed her, just enough to lower her guard.
But then—
Crack.
The sound of crushed leaves drew Efe's attention. He spun around — and froze.
A man in uniform stood behind them, gun raised and aimed at Ire.
"Ire, run!" Efe yelled, diving at her just as the bullet tore past.
They both hit the ground hard, scrambled to their feet, and sprinted toward the car. But as they rounded the bend, they skidded to a stop.
Military personnel — armed and waiting — had surrounded the vehicle.
Panic surged.
Efe grabbed Ire's hand, ready to run the other way — but cold steel pressed against their backs.
"Move if you dare," came a voice, low and menacing.
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