Caww… caww…
The caws of ravens sliced through the foggy night, sharp, mocking, echoing across the abandoned shipyard. Rusted cranes loomed like skeletal titans over stacks of battered containers, their shadows stretching across puddles of crimson and shattered crates. The air was thick with iron and smoke, choking, suffocating, yet intoxicating.
Corvane's boots splashed in blood with every step. Black hair clung to his forehead, plastered with sweat and gore. The deep scar running across his left eye twisted his face into something terrifying, yet beneath it, sharp cheekbones and a strong jaw peeked through — undeniably handsome, cruelly so.
A dagger jutted from his stomach, burning with every heartbeat, but he welcomed it. Pain was proof. Proof that he was still alive, still victorious.
'Not bad… could've been worse,' he thought, letting a crooked, bloodied smile tug at his lips. 'Never thought dying could feel this… satisfying.'
Around him, his allies struggled to stay upright. Charles coughed, blood streaking his pale face, rifle shaking in his hands, but his blue eyes remained sharp and alert, scanning shadows for unseen threats. Selene leaned against a crate, blonde hair matted with sweat and grime, pressing a torn uniform against a deep cut on her arm. She shivered, exhausted, but still moved with the practiced fluidity of someone who had survived far too many nights like this.
The battlefield was a nightmare. Bodies of enemies littered the ground — some pinned beneath overturned barrels, others sprawled face-down in pools of their own blood, limbs twisted at grotesque angles. Shattered crates and broken weapons littered the deck, mingling with the crimson. The air smelled of gunpowder, rust, and death.
A flicker of movement caught Corvane's eye. From the shadow of a dented container, a boy emerged, pistol trembling in his hands, eyes wide with grief and fury.
Corvane's black eyes narrowed. In one fluid motion, he snatched the pistol from the boy.
"Don't worry… I'll finish this myself," he rasped, voice low and lethal.
The boy froze, lips quivering.
"Freeze," Corvane whispered, levelling the pistol at his chest. "Move, and this little toy of yours won't save you."
Charles lifted his rifle, finger on the trigger. Corvane's gaze met his, and he slowly raised a bloodied hand. Not yet, he thought. Let him feel fear… let him understand the weight of what he's done.
The boy's knees shook violently, hands trembling uncontrollably as Corvane pressed his boot into the chest of one of the enemies he had just killed. Feel it. Every second of this, he thought. This is what it costs to stand against me.
"You think pointing that little thing at me changes anything?" Corvane murmured, voice calm and cruel.
"Your father's gone. Every one of his men is gone. And you… trembling like this? Really?"
Selene coughed weakly but managed a small, hoarse laugh.
"You really can't help being dramatic, can you?"
Corvane's grin widened, teeth streaked with blood.
"Not in the slightest. And don't think you're off the hook either, Selene. You'll survive this… but you'll never forget tonight."
His allies groaned, each breath ragged, every movement a struggle. They were alive, yes, but barely. Charles shifted on one knee, blue eyes scanning the shadows with exhaustion etched into every line. Selene clutched her wound tighter, biting back a cry.
Corvane's own breaths came in shallow, harsh gasps. Blood dripped from his mouth, smeared down his jaw, staining the black leather of his vest. Each heartbeat pulsed through the dagger in his gut like fire. And yet… he felt euphoric. The city, the revenge, the destruction he had wrought — all of it was here before him.
'Finally… all of it,' he thought. 'The debts… the corpses… laughter in the midst of chaos. This is… satisfaction.'
He raised the pistol to his temple. For a moment, silence fell. Then, wild laughter erupted from his chest.
"HAHAHAHAAHAA!!!!"
BANG!
The shot shattered the night, ricocheting off steel and blood-soaked crates. Corvane's body jerked violently, then collapsed, the grin frozen on his scarred, yet undeniably handsome, face.
Selene stumbled forward, tears streaking through grime and blood, cradling his head in her lap.
"Corvane… you idiot…" she whispered, voice raw. "Why… why did it have to end like this?"
Charles lowered his rifle, finally letting himself breathe, exhaustion heavy in every movement. The boy cowered behind the container, pistol forgotten, finally aware of his own helplessness.
Corvane's last inner thought was almost peaceful:
'Finally… peace. Debts… all paid. And I laughed while doing it.'
Caww… caww…
The ravens called once more as the shipyard fell silent, drenched in blood and fog — a grim testament to a man who had ruled through violence, cunning, and relentless obsession. Even as his body cooled under the moonlight, the story was far from over.