Cyrus strode through the Hall of Justice, the weight of destiny heavy upon his shoulders. With each step, the cacophony of voices grew louder, a discordant symphony of fear and uncertainty. On either side, people huddled in groups, their whispered conversations a constant drone of anxiety.
Some sat curled into tight balls, heads buried in their knees as if they could shut out the world. Others clung to loved ones, seeking comfort in familiar embraces. Still others simply stared into space, shock etched across their features.
"Are we going to die?" a trembling voice asked.
"Is this the end of the world?" another whimpered.
A Bite father held his son close, his voice steady despite the fear in his eyes. "No, son. It's just another day that will eventually pass."
The air was thick with tension, a palpable miasma of stress and dread. As Cyrus passed, he was met with blank stares or averted gazes, his presence barely registering in their preoccupied minds. Each face he saw was a canvas of worry, everyone consumed by thoughts of survival in the face of impending doom.
Ignoring the sidelong glances and murmurs that followed in his wake, Cyrus pressed deeper into the Hall. In a small, secluded chamber, he found a modest platform erected for their desperate ritual. With infinite gentleness, he laid Neno's lifeless body down, a final act of respect for his fallen friend. Then, with a steadying breath, he handed the mystical disk to the Prophet.
The old man's voice was barely above a whisper, tinged with equal parts hope and trepidation. "I have no guarantee it's going to work, but without trying, we will never know." Cyrus nodded, steeling himself as he lay down on the platform. His heart thundered in his chest, hope—that most fragile of emotions—the only thing sustaining him in this dark hour.
With reverence, Cyrus produced the primordial canine. Instantly, the chamber was suffused with an otherworldly aura, the very air seeming to shimmer and dance. Cyrus felt a strange tingling across his skin, as if unseen forces were caressing him. The Prophet raised the disk, channeling the power of the primordial canine into the ancient artifact.
The Hall of Justice shuddered violently, the tremors eliciting cries of alarm from those gathered in the main chamber. Cyrus felt his body lifted into the air, suspended by invisible hands. Then came the pain—excruciating, all-consuming agony that tore through every fiber of his being. The sound of cracking bones filled the air, punctuated by Cyrus's agonized screams.
The torment was beyond anything he had ever experienced. In those moments of unendurable suffering, death seemed a welcome escape. The Prophet took an involuntary step back, buffeted by the tempest swirling around them.
Through the haze of pain, the Prophet's voice penetrated Cyrus's consciousness: "Liam had always been blind to what he did, oblivious to the consequences. You, on your part, had always been too afraid of those exact same consequences. Two extremes that have led to today's disaster."
Cyrus's body continued to contort and break, each new wave of pain like a bolt of lightning searing through him. The Prophet's words grew more urgent, more powerful: "You are more than that, Cyrus. It's time, it's finally time to let go of your fear—let go of that fear of failure and embrace the beauty of the unknown, the beauty that exists in uncertainty, in not knowing what might happen. Rise, Cyrus!"
With a thunderous crash that sent shockwaves through the entire Hall, Cyrus slammed back onto the platform. A primal roar tore from his throat, echoing to the heavens. Two gleaming canines, sharp and powerful, now protruded from his mouth—the mark of a true Bite. Strands of his hair began to shimmer, transforming to a radiant gold as if touched by a divine hand.
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The Prophet smiled weakly, his strength finally giving out. As he collapsed, Cyrus caught him, cradling the frail body. "Now it's up to you," the old man whispered, his eyes fluttering closed for the last time.
Cyrus gently traced his palm over the Prophet's face, his voice thick with emotion. "May your soul rest in peace." With great care, he laid the Prophet's body beside Neno's, a final act of respect for two heroes who had given everything for their cause.
Stepping out into the main hall, Cyrus felt the weight of countless eyes upon him. Some gazes were filled with surprise, others with indifference—likely believing that even this transformation would change nothing in the face of their dire circumstances.
Scanning the crowd, Cyrus searched for one particular face. He found her huddled on the ground, her hair cascading around her like a protective curtain as she hid her face in her knees. Crouching beside her, he spoke softly. "What do you want?" she asked, her voice heavy with sorrow.
"I know I have wronged you, and I don't expect you to pardon me," Cyrus began, his tone gentle yet resolute. "The karmic monsters are razing the city and will soon be here."
She lifted her head, shock evident in her eyes as she took in his transformed appearance. Cyrus extended his hand, and after a moment's hesitation, she took it. Together, they walked to the center of the gathered Bites, Cyrus's gaze sweeping over the assembled crowd.
"City Zero is under siege," he announced, his voice ringing out clear and strong. "The karmic monsters are everywhere. The Bureau is not moving. We are left to ourselves. But if we rally together—"
His words were cut off by a chorus of protests and fearful objections.
"What for? To fight the karmic monsters? If we wait here, the lion statue will protect us. It's the ancestral treasure of the Bite—it will last long enough for the other cities to send help!"
"Yes, he's right! Why should we go out there? We're safe here!"
Cyrus clapped his hands, releasing a wave of energy that swept through the hall, silencing the crowd. All eyes turned to him, a mixture of shock and awe on their faces.
"You're safe here, yes, but for how long?" Cyrus demanded, his voice rising with passion and urgency. "Has anyone here ever seen a karmic monster? Has anyone ever fought one? You sit here in the comfort of your villa while mere humans like those in the mines face them every single hour, every single fucking minute. Do you know what it feels like to lose someone you love to those beasts? No, you don't!"
His words, filled with anger and pain, echoed through the hall. The crowd stood silent, stunned by the raw emotion in his voice.
"Think about the little Bites, think about the children, think about your future," Cyrus continued, his tone softening but no less intense. "What will happen to you once you leave City Zero? Will you become slaves? Miners? Or worse? The Bureau is equipped and prepared to handle karmic monsters, but they won't do anything as long as Lionore is in control. If we can eliminate him, the Bureau will have no more ties, and together we could eliminate the karmic monsters and save the city."
His proposal was met with a fresh wave of protests, the Bites' deep-seated hatred for the Bureau bubbling to the surface.
"You mean we have to protect them?"
"Have you forgotten what the Bureau has done?"
Cyrus knew he was asking for something difficult, perhaps even impossible. But it was their only way out. The Bureau was their best hope against the karmic monsters, but first, the chains holding them back had to be broken. Lionore had to be removed from power.
"I haven't forgotten," Cyrus said, his voice cutting through the din. "How could I? They took my best friend, the best librarian I knew, the Prophet. How could I forget? We're not protecting the Bureau. We're not protecting Bites or City Zero! We're protecting our future!"
He paused, letting his words sink in before continuing with renewed fervor. "Do you all want to see the smiles on the faces of your loved ones tomorrow morning? Do you want to tell tales of heroes and legends to your future generations? Do you want to mark the beginning of a new era? Then follow me, and let's march on those damn monsters!"
A heavy silence fell over the Hall of Justice. For what felt like an eternity, no one moved. Cyrus felt his fist clench, his heart pounding in his chest as he waited. Time seemed to slow to a crawl, each second stretching into an agonizing eternity.
Just as he was about to give up hope, a single voice broke through the silence. "I will follow you." Leora stepped forward, taking her place by his side.
In that moment, as others began to stir and move towards him, Cyrus felt a spark of hope ignite in his chest. Perhaps, against all odds, they still had a chance to save not just the city, but the very soul of their people. With Leora by his side and the growing support of the Bites behind him, Cyrus stood tall, ready to face the challenges that lay ahead and forge a new destiny for them all.