Lucian's world hadn't been shattered by a sword, but by silence. A hollow, aching silence where the memory of his mother's laughter used to be.
A cold, satisfied whisper slithered through his mind, the voice of Gem, the Echo of the Abyss. "See? A small price to pay for true power, wouldn't you say?"
Lucian didn't answer. He just stared at Elara with eyes that were now utterly vacant. The violet fire had been extinguished, leaving behind an abyss of despair darker than the night itself.
"Who… who are you?" Lucian whispered, his voice hoarse, a stranger's sound even to his own ears. He wasn't asking Elara. He was asking the monster staring back at him from the pool of blood at his feet.
Elara saw the change. The man who had roared like a beast was now as fragile as cracked glass. She saw the wounds, the blood, and the darkness. But beneath it all, she saw a soul that had been torn apart.
"My name is Elara. I'm not going to hurt you. But that wound… if you don't treat it, you'll be dead in this alley before dawn," she said, her voice firm yet gentle as she pointed to his shoulder, which was still gushing blood.
Lucian let out a laugh that sounded like shattering glass—bitter, sharp, and laced with self-hatred. He had lost everything, even his sweetest memory. Death sounded like a sweet release.
"Death is a luxury I don't deserve. I have to live with this curse, with this blood on my hands," he hissed, each word a lash against his own soul. "Get out of here while you still can. I am a plague."
"She's right, you know," Gem whispered, its tone logical and devoid of emotion. "She's a weakness. Trust is a knife you'll only find buried in your back. Use her if you must, then cast her aside."
"I won't leave a man to die, I don't care what he's done or who he is," Elara retorted, as if she could hear his inner battle. She stepped closer, ignoring the warning growl that rumbled in Lucian's chest.
Suddenly, the strength bled out of him. The adrenaline from the fight and the shock of the Abyss's power faded, leaving only overwhelming pain. His vision blurred. His knees gave out, and he staggered forward.
He collapsed, his body giving way to the cold, filthy ground. But before his head could crack against the stone, a surprisingly strong pair of arms caught him. Elara had him.
"You're a fool," Lucian mumbled, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He could smell the faint scent of herbs and ozone on her, the smell of life in stark contrast to the stench of death all around them.
"Maybe," Elara grunted, struggling with his weight. "But I'd rather be a living fool with a conscience than a wise man who lets others die."
She tore a strip of cloth from her own worn dress and pressed it hard against the wound on his shoulder. Lucian groaned as the fabric met his torn flesh.
The moment her hand touched his skin, a strange sensation flared. The residual shadow energy in his body pulsed wildly, recoiling from her touch as if it were poison. But the faint healing energy from her hands didn't back down.
A soft, green glimmer of light shone from her palm, fighting back against the remnants of violet darkness. For an instant, the two forces clashed, creating an invisible shower of sparks.
Elara flinched. She felt an unnatural resistance. This was no ordinary wound; there was something alien and malevolent nesting inside this man, something that fed on her light.
"A healer… She has a spark of the Aura of Life. Interesting," Gem commented with a cold, analytical detachment. "Her energy could stabilize you for a time, but it could also expose our existence. A liability."
"Shut up," Lucian groaned, whether to the voice in his head or to Elara, he didn't know. The pain and exhaustion threatened to swallow him whole. His consciousness was starting to fray.
Right on cue, the system interface flickered before his eyes, this time with a yellow warning text.
[WARNING: USER'S PHYSICAL CONDITION IS CRITICAL. INTERNAL BLEEDING DETECTED.]
[MULTIPLE ORGAN FAILURE IMMINENT IN T-MINUS 17 MINUTES WITHOUT MEDICAL INTERVENTION.]
[RECOMMENDATION: ACCEPT AID FROM EXTERNAL ENTITY (AURA OF LIFE HEALER).]
Lucian laughed bitterly in his mind. The same system that had stolen his memories was now advising him to accept help. The irony was cruel enough to be a physical blow.
"You have to get me out of here," Lucian whispered, the words barely audible. It wasn't a request; it was an admission of defeat. "They… Valerius… they'll send more."
Elara's eyes widened at the name. Valerius. One of the ruthless great houses, the eternal rivals of Clan Aurelius. It all made sense now. This wasn't some random mugging. It was a political execution.
"I know a safe place. But you have to trust me. Can you do that?" she asked, looking straight into his dimming eyes. The question was about more than logistics; it was a test.
For a long moment, Lucian just looked at her. In the vast, empty space where his soul used to be, he saw something he hadn't seen in a long time: sincerity. Not pity. Not ambition. Just a simple, unadorned desire to help.
"Don't. It's a trap. Nothing in the lower districts is genuine. Everyone has an angle," Gem hissed, its voice dripping with suspicion.
Lucian ignored it. For the first time, he made a choice that defied the cold logic of the entity inside him. He had nothing left to lose anyway, except a life that was already worthless.
He gave a weak nod, a tiny movement that felt like it cost him the last of his strength.
It was enough for Elara. With renewed determination, she slung one of his heavy arms over her shoulders. The contrast between them was stark; she was slender, while Lucian, though lean, was built on the frame of a warrior.
"Hold on. This is going to be rough," she said, more to herself than to him. She began to drag him, step by agonizing step, out of the bloody alley and into the labyrinth of dark streets of the lower district.
Every step was a battle. Lucian's body felt like lead, and his occasional groans of pain were the only sounds that broke the night's silence. Elara ignored her screaming muscles and pushed onward.
They moved through the shadows of crumbling buildings, dodging the occasional patrol of city guards. The air was thick with the smell of rot and despair, the daily reality for those who lived at the bottom of the Dome.
Lucian, drifting on the edge of unconsciousness, watched the world spin. Grimy faces watched them from the darkness, their eyes filled with either idle curiosity or complete indifference. Here, suffering was just part of the scenery.
As they turned down a narrower passage, Lucian felt a familiar, cold prickle. Danger. The senses honed by his Abyssal power were screaming.
"Wait," he rasped, forcing them to a halt.
Elara stopped, her breath catching in her throat. "What is it? Do you see something?"
At the end of the alley stood three figures cloaked in shadows. They didn't carry themselves like common thugs. Their posture was disciplined, and there was a glint of steel from weapons hidden beneath their cloaks.
They weren't Valeriu's dogs. They were something else. Something more organized. The Enforcers—the unofficial, brutal police of the lower district, who enforced their brand of law.
One of them stepped forward, his silhouette large and menacing. "Well, well, what have we here, Elara? Found yourself another broken toy to fix?"
The man's voice was a gravelly sneer. Elara stiffened, her body becoming a protective shield in front of Lucian.
"This is none of your business, Kael. We're just passing through. Get out of our way," Elara replied, her voice cold and sharp, all traces of her earlier gentleness gone.
Kael chuckled, a low, unpleasant sound. "Everything that happens in this sector is my business. Especially when it involves a fugitive from the upper districts leaving a trail of bodies behind him."
Lucian's eyes narrowed. So, word traveled that fast. Or they'd been watching all along.
"He's with me. Anyone who wants to touch him has to go through me first," Elara said, her tone absolute. For a healer, she had a surprising battle-ready aura.
Kael snorted. "Your sweet touch won't work on us, Healer. Hand him over. Our master has questions for this fallen Aurelius heir. Maybe we can get him to 'sing' our way."
The threat hung in the air, thick and poisonous. It was a dead end. Behind them, the possibility of Valerius patrols. In front of them, the ruthless Enforcers.
Lucian felt the dregs of the Abyss's power begin to stir inside him again, responding to the threat. The pain was being replaced by a cold, simmering rage.
"Let me take over," Gem offered, its voice a tempting, demonic whisper. "I will tear them to shreds. We'll pay the price later. Just one more memory. How about the one of your father disappointing you? That would be no great loss, would it?"
The temptation was immense. To just let the monster out and erase the threat. But then he saw Elara's face, pale but determined, standing between him and the world.
He had already paid one price. He wouldn't pay another. Not tonight.
Using the last of his strength, Lucian pushed himself to stand a little straighter. He met Kael's gaze, his vacant eyes now lit with a cold spark of defiance.
"If your master wants to see me, tell him to come himself," Lucian said, his voice quiet but carrying the weight of death. "And tell him this broken heir still has enough fight left to send his dogs back to hell."
A tense silence fell over the alley. Kael and his men hadn't expected such resistance from someone who looked to be on death's door.
Kael's hand moved to the hilt of his sword. The conflict seemed inevitable.
But before anyone could move, a new voice cut through the tension. It was old, and weary, but held an undeniable authority.
"That's enough, Kael. Let them pass."
An old man stepped out from the shadows behind the Enforcers. He was thin, stooped, and leaned on a wooden cane, but his eyes were sharp and clear as if they could see right through to the soul.
Kael bowed his head immediately. "Elder. But he's…"
"I know who he is. And I know who's looking for him," the old man said, his gaze fixed on Lucian. "Tonight, he is a guest of the lower district. He is under my protection."
The declaration stunned everyone, Elara included. The Elder's protection was something even the great houses were reluctant to challenge.
Lucian stared at the old man, trying to make sense of what was happening. Why would the leader of a hidden faction in the dregs of the city protect him? Nothing was free in the Dome.
The old man offered him a thin, cryptic smile. "You have your mother's eyes, boy. Full of fire and storm."
The mention of his mother stabbed Lucian like a shard of ice, right in the fresh, hollow wound where her memory had been. He couldn't remember her eyes. He couldn't remember her fire.
The pain of that loss, sharper than any physical wound, finally made him buckle. This time, the darkness claimed him completely.
As his consciousness faded, the last thing he heard was Elara's frantic voice calling his name, and the Elder's voice, muttering to himself, a phrase that would haunt his dreams.
"The Abyss has chosen its new vessel. May the Dome survive what's to come."