The people of Abandar port, eager to finish their last tasks and close their shops, were too engrossed in their activities to notice the arrival of the seven teenagers disembarking from their ship. The vessel anchored just off the quay's edge, and the group, seemingly walking on the water, made their way to the shore. Of course, even if the locals had not been preoccupied, they still wouldn't have seen anything out of the ordinary.

"Nice work, Tizpa," Suzanne commended a boy with a black headband who had been quietly murmuring as they crossed the water. Once everyone had set foot on solid ground, Tizpa stopped his muttering and stood proudly, placing his gloved hands on his hips. The effort of enabling this short voyage over the water had caused his bare arms to glisten with sweat under the moonlight.”

"If my efforts were truly praiseworthy, why not call me Dianush, boss?" he quipped.

Suzanne didn't waste time responding to his comment. Instead, she turned her attention to another boy, enveloped in a faint aura of swiftly moving air.

"What about you?" Are you sure you did it correctly? Can no one see us?”

Before he could respond to Suzanne, Shahab stepped forward, his gaze scanning the surroundings.

"If Tufan hadn't executed his task accurately, these locals would likely have reacted to our arrival, wouldn't they? Walking on water is unusual even in Ashuban.”

He then turned to Suzanne.

"Let's not allow this mission to be saturated with questions of the obvious. A leader must exhibit fearlessness to make courageous decisions in challenging situations. If you plan to start like this..."

Suzanne, her patience with Shahab wearing thin, raised her hand to silence him.

"I could counter that you seem intent on scrutinizing my every move during this mission, possibly because you're accustomed to trailing behind. I will lead until the end of this mission, whether or not it suits your preferences. When we encounter situations, you can demonstrate your abilities through actions instead of venting your inner frustrations."

Before the flames among Shahab’s hair spread dangerously on his head, Parisa intervened.

"That's enough of that. Now, where should we start? Did you bring the map?”

Suzanne exchanged another look with Shahab to convey her resolve, then turned her attention to Parisa. She retrieved an old pocket book from her gaparo.

“Yeah. Gerdavar, is everything secure?”

Tufan Gerdavar moved in front of Shahab, who was grumbling softly, and stood beside Suzanne.

"Yes, Azarpeik."

Suzanne, unsure of Gerdavar's intentions with the name, glanced at the opened paper displaying a map. She whispered a quiet "good" to herself and continued.

"We're currently at Abandar port. According to Parham Parupi's map, the Sepid-cheshman forest is situated to the east, which we spotted from a distance on our approach. If we head south..."

Shahab grumbled under his breath, but his voice was still audible:

“Parham Parupi drew this map two hundred years ago! I don't understand why they didn't provide us with a more recent one."

Parisa looked at Shahab with surprise.

“Parham Parupi was a renowned kazhamuz! His map is bound to still be reliable!”

"But it's not complete!"

"Let it go, Parisa. Maybe Shahab thinks that in these two hundred years, Sepid-cheshman has disappeared completely, or Dara Shah Valley has transformed into a plain! As I was saying... to the south, we have Dara Shah Valley, which we should avoid entirely. So, we need to traverse the eastern passage between Sepid-cheshman and Dara Shah Valley to reach the Zino River, if it's still in the same place. Apparently, it has numerous branches that flow underground and resurface elsewhere.”

Robina of Makin, the third girl in the group, with her somewhat boyish crimson-colored shirt, trousers, sandals, and even her crimson-brown or red eyes and hair, took a step forward with a curious question:

"Other than the rough terrain, is there any other reason we should avoid entering the valley?"

“Yeah. I know that it is dangerous there. The description of Parupi's adventures in the valley was in the forbidden section of the Ashuban library. But at the same time, I know that it does not help our mission to go there. Of course…”

Suzanne cast a suspicious glance at Robina and remarked, "You must know more than me about what's happening in the valley. I bet you've even read the forbidden parts."

Robina held her gaze for a moment but couldn't contain her smile any longer. She nodded in agreement, "Yes, I did."

"May I asssk what exactly is our mission?"

Suzanne, who had given a faint smile to Robina, closed her eyelids for a few moments and pretended not to mumble upon hearing this voice. She turned her attention to Arjang Mar-chap, locking eyes with both his normal and snake eyes.

"You don't know why you're here?"

Mar-chap ran his hand, which had no more than four fingers, through his short, scaly-colored hair and replied, "To be honessst, no. I just heard that Tufan and Dianush are going on a mission, so I jussst insssisssted on the kazhamuzes to let me come as well.”

As a sign of understanding, Rubina nodded and pointed:

"Now the matter has become clear. I've studied the history of such missions. Groups of three people were always sent on these missions, at least individuals who have achieved the sixth rank or higher during their training. While you were consistently seventh."

Mar-chap shrugged indifferently. Robina continued, "But this time, they've sent the top seven apprentices on a single mission! They must believe it's much more dangerous here than in the past!”

Tufan chimed in, "Or they might think that the current top apprentices are less skilled than those of days gone by."

Shahab retorted, "Don't speak nonsense!"

Parisa gave Suzanne's shoulder an encouraging pat and said, "Well, it wouldn't hurt to provide a brief explanation so we're all on the same page."

"Okay. We have two primary objectives. First, the free divs and divches here in the south are different from the ones in Ashuban. For the kazhamuzes' ongoing research, we need to capture as many diverse divs and divches as we can find and bring them back home with us."

Shahab, hand on his chest, adopted a demanding and impolite tone as he said, "So, the second reason is the primary one."

"The second reason is to engage in a form of competitive yet friendly challenge. No one told me this mission is intended as a team-building exercise, but we can give it a try if you'd like."

"Yeah, right!"

Suzanne, who was finding it harder to ignore Shahab's insolence, gritted her teeth and continued:

"Anyway, there may be situations where we have to work as a group. But aside from that, we have about a month to accumulate points here. Points are earned by gathering information from Parsin, taking notes, and the quantity and quality of the divs that each of us captures individually or together. The final scores will be determined by the kazhamuzes when we return. As the leader, I will keep records of everyone's activities and whether they caused any issues for others."

Suzanne gave Shahab a knowing look, prompting him to look away. "According to Parham Parupi's guidebook, you can find most types of divs and divches in the Raburamona Desert. So, logically, that's our primary destination. Along the way, we'll likely pass through many villages not marked on the map and encounter various landscapes, people, and creatures that we can document in our reports."

Mar-chap waved his hands in the air dismissively. "That'sss a wassste of time! I'm sure capturing one div earns more pointsss than reading a thousand booksss."

Robina frowned as she looked at him. "That's not true! The kazhamuzes will undoubtedly value any information we can provide, and it's important for our mission's success."

Mar-chap glanced from Robina to Gerdavar and Tizpa, who all wore expressions that suggested they didn't want to get involved in an argument. He shrugged once again and stayed silent.

"Now, if there are no more questions, I suggest we stay in Abandar for a day. Since Parupi's guidebook doesn't mention any reports of divs or divches in Abandar, it's likely safe here. We can disperse to gather more information from this place. Let's reconvene tomorrow at sunset next to the southern guard tower."

Suzanne concluded her statement by gesturing to the south. When they turned their heads, they spotted a square stone tower in the distance, even at that distance they could see the guard on it shivering due to the cold weather. Shahab approached Suzanne, stopping a step away from her, and asked, "Why waste time?" I say we head to the desert right now."

Suzanne did not back off. She looked him straight in the eyes and said:

“Then I don’t suggest it. I command it!”

For a brief moment, they exchanged silent words through their gazes, expressing feelings that words could not convey. Then, Shahab let out a huff of air and, taking the path leading east of the port towards the fish market, he motioned with his hand. Arjang and Dianush immediately fell in line behind him. Tufan observed them for a moment as they walked away, contemplating his situation. After a few moments of hesitation, he turned to one of the girls and said, "See you tomorrow!" before rushing to catch up with the boys. Robina mumbled to herself, "Since when do they take orders from Shahab Azarbar?"

Suzanne responded with a grin. "Ever since those little flames appeared on his big, empty head."

Parisa watched Shahab and the boys as they disappeared from view. "You gave them a good ribbing, Suzanne. I enjoyed that!"

Then, with Shahab no longer in sight, she turned to Suzanne and added, "But I wish you'd find a way to be kinder to him. Shahab isn't as bad as you make him out to be!"

Suzanne rolled her eyes and repeated, "Not that bad? Yeah, not bad at all. He's just a little arrogant, a bit gruff, a tad snobbish, and he enjoys some extra nitwit features. Other than that, yeah, he's not a bad guy at all!"

Parisa laughed at Suzanne's sarcastic remarks and continued, "No, I'm serious! You've only competed with him in exams and major competitions. You've never been in training courses with him. I've shared courses with him for seven years. Shahab isn't really what he seems!"

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Suzanne waved her hand dismissively to indicate she wasn't interested in pursuing that conversation. Then, she turned to Robina. "Do you have any suggestions for a report topic? You must have memorized the map of Abandar. Is there a place where we can gather information that would be of interest to the Kazhamuzes?"

Robina had a ready answer at the tip of her tongue. "How about the blacksmiths' neighborhood? We could record their weapons development!"

Suzanne snapped her fingers. "That's a good idea!" She was about to search for the blacksmiths' neighborhood on the map when Robina offered a warning. "Parupi's map in this book is too general. The scale is large. But I've seen a smaller map in 'Guide to Northern Ports of Parsin,' written by Parupi when he was younger. Follow me!"

Suzanne and Parisa exchanged glances and shared a laugh as they watched Robina set off with a triumphant expression. When Parisa finally stopped laughing, she said kindly, "I'm glad you won't be as tough throughout the mission as you first appeared."

Suzanne pushed away an image of her mother, who had suddenly popped into her mind, wearing a wise expression. She replied to her friend with a smile. "I promise not to be too difficult, as long as you also keep an eye on your beloved Shahab."

The girls bantered and laughed as, thanks to Tufan's help, they walked towards the blacksmiths' neighborhood, passing by people who couldn't see them or hear their words.

*

"Why, there's no one here!"

"Hush!"

"Don't hush me! They can't hear our voices!"

"I let us be a little more comfortable, but I didn't say that we should put caution aside!"

The girls stood next to the mud wall of the first blacksmith workshop in the row of blacksmith shops. Sometimes they chattered, and sometimes they spoke to each other in not-so-low voices. It appeared that blacksmiths, at least in Abandar, were among the first to close their shops and head home. No blacksmith shops were open along the street, where the ground was still muddy from the recent rain that came from the direction of Sepid-cheshman to the west, with puddles here and there.

"Very strange. They turn off their lights and leave, but their shops are so accessible! How secure do they think it is here?"

Robina reached into her collar and pulled out a narrow cylindrical stick, about the length and diameter of an index finger. A piece of paper was tied around its body. Robina pulled the edge of the paper, which stretched out easily, making it ready for writing. She brought the stick close to her lips and whispered, "Divak! Write it down: It seems that the port of Abandar is very safe..."

Parisa, who was standing next to her, poked her and pointed to the end of the row of blacksmiths. "Don't be hasty. It's becoming clear why they can confidently leave their shops and go."

Robina looked up to see two men holding their torches aloft, patrolling from the end of the row towards where they were hiding. "They have guards!"

"Alright, I understood that on my own! Scratch that, Divak!"

When Rubina spoke this sentence to the small scroll, the paper shook, and when it was wrapped around the wood again, the writings on it were erased. Suzanne said, "We will wait for them to leave, and then we will check the shops."

A minute or two later, they felt the first drops of rain on their faces. They separated from each other and each decided to explore one of the sides of the incomplete rectangle formed by the row of blacksmiths. Suzanne had chosen the width of the rectangle at the end of the row. She ran towards it carefully, avoiding the pits in the muddy ground, and at the same time, she checked to see if her footprints would remain in the mud. Fortunately, the effect of Tufan's powers was still well-established, and there was no trace of Suzanne. She thought to herself, "If I want to be fair, I should include this in my report about him."

In the width of that rectangle, there were two blacksmith shops. One was wide, occupying almost four-fifths of the entire width, but it wasn't very deep. The other was perhaps not more than four paces wide but quite deep. Suzanne started with the shallow shop. Its thatched roof was obviously recently renovated, and the floor was wooden. It was clear that the shop's owner had good taste. Neat rows of repaired metal utensils, sharpened and polished knives, and weapons were arranged, each in its place, next to shelves filled with various materials of glass. When Suzanne opened the lids of several of those jars, she could smell a different scent each time. She guessed that the powders inside these jars were used during the metal melting process. She poured a handful of the contents of each glass into the leather bag she took from her pocket. Each time she whispered, "Be careful not to mix them up, Diva."

At the west end of the shop, various items that had not yet been repaired lay on the floor next to the furnace, which still emitted a faint warmth. On the cast iron anvil, with numerous marks indicating years of continuous use, a long, narrow, silver-colored pair of tongs rested. Suzanne unconsciously thought of her older brother and found herself fiddling with the ring on her index finger - the ring that was his keepsake. Meanwhile, she recalled the last time she had heard his voice, echoing from the Azarpeikan Hall:

"I don't want to be like you! I will become a blacksmith, and I will prove that one can bring honor to the family this way!"

Then, she remembered the sound of the large doors of the hall closing behind him. Suzanne hadn't been present in the hall that day when Afarnoud had his final argument with their parents, but she knew one thing: if she followed her brother, that day and the days after, she would have been labeled the same as him – an outcast. This way, she had neither seen nor heard from Afarnoud for four whole years. Her parents and other siblings acted as if he had never existed. It was highly unlikely for him to do such a thing! He was supposed to be...

The sound of lightning, illuminating the entire sky, brought Suzanne back to her senses. She tore her gaze away from the anvil and tongs, exiting the shop. Aside from the powders, she hadn't discovered anything noteworthy. The weapons consisted of the usual short swords and one or two curved daggers, which, while undoubtedly expensive, had nothing remarkable about them aside from their ornaments.

As she reached the entrance of the second store, she couldn't help but mutter "Oh, my!" with wide eyes. Describing the qualitative difference between this store and the previous one was practically impossible. The roof had collapsed here and there, as big as a palm, and the heavy rain had turned its muddy floor even muddier. Every corner of the shop had tongs, hammers, and nails strewn about, invoking images of a cave teeming with bats and vermin that extended into its dark, invisible depths. The cold wind blowing from the shop's gloomy heart towards the entrance, apart from indicating that there must be far larger holes in the back wall, carried a scent akin to a mound of unwashed clothes and stagnant, fetid water.

Suzanne, deeming the frown on her face insufficient to react to this situation, entered the store gingerly, as if she might awaken a slumbering monster with each step. Simultaneously, she contemplated the level of torment the owner of the previous shop must endure on behalf of the owner of this wretched establishment. She imagined the proprietor of the first store as a tidy, bald, and portly man with a thick mustache and beard, who would discreetly wipe his perspiring brow and armpits with two fragrant handkerchiefs after each hammer strike to prevent body odor. In contrast, the owner of this establishment was, in her mind, an emaciated, haggard elderly man with dark circles around his eyes, suffering from a nervous tic that caused his left eyelid to twitch incessantly. With every strike on the anvil, his moans would harmonize with the sound of his cracking back, which made a thousand pops a day. Most likely, he had a habit of clearing his parched throat, caused by sitting next to the furnace constantly, by collecting saliva in his mouth and periodically spitting it out.

To shield her hair from the rain and the increasingly intense cold, Suzanne pulled her hood over her head. At the same time, she felt something stirring in the depths of the darkness. She stopped in her tracks. What could it be? Parham Parupi's reports had portrayed Abandar as a safe and secure city. Could she have been mistaken? Or perhaps it was just a cat, a rat, or some other creature? There was no harm in ensuring her safety. She muttered quietly, "Diva, be ready!" The sudden warmth that enveloped her palms in that frigid air, where her breath was visible as steam, also warmed her heart. She cautiously proceeded to explore the depths of the shop once more.

"Anyone there?" She wasn't certain whether her approach would adhere to Tarikan's approved methodology, but now that she had embarked on this course, she had to persist. "Show yourself, or your fate will be your own doing!"

In the dim light, she could barely discern her surroundings, but she sensed that she was approaching the back of the store. Squinting her eyes, she spotted a trembling figure on the ground. Suzanne quickly pointed her index finger at the object. "Reveal yourself! I will not issue another warning!" Without affording it the opportunity to respond, she muttered, "Diva, Green Incursion!" A fiery green sphere shot forth from her index finger and engulfed the object. In an instant, the entire woolly form was ablaze, but less than a second later, the flames were extinguished. The creature remained in its quivering state, emitting no sound, and the steam rising from it mingled with the odors already present in the disheveled shop.

Suzanne's brow furrowed, and she intended to try again: "Diva, Red Fire..." However, an abrupt flash of lightning outside bathed the shop in an evanescent glow. That brief moment of revelation was enough to cause Suzanne's eyes to widen. It wasn't the woolly creature that froze her – it might have been the size of a large guard dog, as elderly as the imagined shop owner, and perhaps its thick ears had failed to detect any commotion or had been instantly silenced by her attack . Instead, in the span of that fraction of a second, a beam of light pierced the darkness, casting a looming black shadow over her from behind. She heard heavy breathing behind her and felt that jaws had parted, the sound of slimy gums echoing as a bone-rattling bass voice rumbled. Alongside it came the pungent scent of decay and foulness. "So, you've finally sensed my presence?"

Suzanne's mind raced, operating faster than ever, even in comparison to the most challenging moments of Ashuban practical exams. As she listened to the enigmatic voice behind her, she thought that she might not know precisely what lay in front of her, but for the moment, she did not perceive a significant threat from it. However, behind her, without a doubt, based on the countless signs she had studied, examined, and encountered closely throughout her years of training, there was a div.

The predicament at hand stemmed from a stark absence of any reference to a divche in Abandar in Parham Parupi's reports, let alone a div whose presence was betrayed by the imposing shadow that currently loomed over Suzanne. Moreover, this div was evidently of a significant caliber, as he had approached within a mere step of the top apprentice of Ashuban without arousing her awareness. Suzanne reflected, "But the situation remains in my favor. He hasn't made his move to confront me head-on. The fact that he attempted to approach me covertly from behind suggests a level of uncertainty." She processed all of this within the fraction of a second.

Promptly, Suzanne vaulted herself backwards, bending over and propelling her body off the ground as she estimated the div's position based on his cast shadow. Her precise timing was impeccable. As she released the pressure on her soles and took the leap, the result was two slimy and robust arms clashing together where her head had been seconds ago. Exactly as she had foreseen, Suzanne slid between the two muscular legs, landing on the ground before her back met the floor. She countered with a shout, her palms directed towards the enemy. "Diva, Flaming Hell!" The red flame, black at its burning core, erupted from her hands with such intensity that its force propelled Suzanne several steps further than she had originally intended.

In the meantime, the div in front of her, visibly startled, had no opportunity to turn around. A powerful strike to the bruised surface of his back flung him against the wall like stones scattered by children as they kick them along a road. A split second later, an audible cacophony, mistaken for the sound of an impending storm and thunder outside, marked the collapse of the thatched roof and stone wall onto the div's head and the trembling, woolly creature.

Seizing the moment, Suzanne quickly got to her feet. She found herself standing in the store's larger half, beneath the still-intact roof. Before her lay a mound of stones and debris, upon which the rain was beating heavily, lending their surfaces a glistening sheen. What should be her next course of action? Should she allow her enemy an opportunity to speak or strike immediately? She reflected, "I shouldn't kill him. Not yet. I must discern the situation here." However, as she observed the rocks gradually lifting and then cascading down until the enemy emerged from beneath, she had to admit to herself, "I can't subdue him alone. The others must have heard the commotion. With their assistance, I can contain him.”

"You're rather potent—for a child".

The shivering woolly creature was nowhere to be seen, seemingly still buried under the debris. However, the div, displaying no inclination to assist the creature, stood stoically in the rain, his chest puffed out and his body rigid, eyes fixed on Suzanne. She narrowed her gaze and surveyed him swiftly, a mirror image of the rapid attack she had initiated. He sported a pair of black boots secured with buckles, each large enough to envelop a blue foot with a diameter equal to Suzanne's waist. A wide, viscous handkerchief wound around his waist, draping to the midpoint of his thighs, beginning at the top of his protruding thighs. His upper torso was reminiscent of a massive, hairless gorilla's chest, culminating in a short neck supporting a gigantic head characterized by an extraordinarily contorted visage. Thin lips, even bluer than his skin, left an almost inaudible whisper escaping from the slit between them, barely discernible over the deafening rain. His facial features were distinctive - he possessed two minuscule apertures for a nose, enormous ears that seemed to bear the marks of a predator's bite, and, beneath a furrowed brow, a left eye shaped like a bull's-eye. If he had a right eye, his eyelids appeared to have been sealed together with fine black thread.

"Are you finished with your observation, Azarpeik girl?" he inquired with a hint of condescension. Upon hearing her family name mentioned, Suzanne locked her gaze onto that yellow aperture.

"You're not the only one possessing observational skills," he continued. "There are few of my rank who aren't acquainted with your family's emblem."

Maintaining her vigilance, Suzanne responded dispassionately, "I see. In that case, you must be no ordinary div."

The div's voice lashed out, brimming with both sarcasm and condescension.

"No, I'm not! Oh, you really want to know what kind of div I am, don't you? Are you searching for an image of me within that little brain of yours, amidst all the lessons your haughty professors have imparted? Well... allow me to enlighten you. Race: Blue div. Surface: Bronze. A bronze-level blue div! Does that jog your memory?"

Suzanne was instantly propelled backward and found herself firmly grounded once more. She was back in her quarters at the Azarpeikan Palace, and kazhamuz Tarikan stood at her doorway, proffering a hefty tome.

"This is from the second volume of Divs: A Self-Study. Just remember to return it by the end of the month!" he reminded her.

Within moments, she had thrown herself onto her sumptuous bed and, rather than perusing the uninspiring chapters at the book's outset, had turned straight to the final section: "Blue divs, perceived as the most potent and intelligent among those discussed so far, are categorized into three tiers. The lowest tier comprises blue stone divs, considered a rigorous but suitable challenge for a trio of trainees with a minimum of five years of experience. For an illustration of their destructive capabilities, consult the appendix. The second tier consists of cast iron blue divs, requiring a group of at least five trainees with a minimum of five years of experience to confront. For an illustration of their destructive powers, consult the appendix. The most perilous among blue divs is the bronze level. As you know, the labels 'stone,' 'cast iron,' and 'bronze' do not have a specific nomenclature basis; this appellation was bestowed upon them long ago, based on available information. What's essential to understand is that there's a pronounced leap in terms of intelligence and aptitude within the same tier. Bronze-level blue divs, the closest cohort to black divs, must never be underestimated. They should never be pursued by apprentices, regardless of their number, without the presence of a kazhamuz. The latter third of the appendix in this book comprehensively expounds upon the abilities of this div."

"I believe you've finally recollected me within your memories. Let me see..."

Suzanne scowled as deeply as she could, extending her palms towards the approaching div. He was strolling towards her with unruffled composure, continuing to speak, his voice saturated with nonchalance.

"Right now, you're pondering what someone of my stature is doing in a locale like this."

Suzanne bellowed in her mind without altering her gaze or moving her lips, "Diva, stand ready!" Yet, with no semblance of hesitation, the div continued to advance. Finally, Suzanne shouted, "Diva, unleash the Flaming Hell!" Her palms briefly tingled with warmth, then expelled heat, but nothing more. She fixed her gaze on the div who was drawing alarmingly close, disregarding the bead of perspiration coursing down the side of her face, and cried out once more, "Diva, emit the Blaze of the Sun!" For a brief moment, a faint beam radiated from her palms, alighting upon the div's chest, delineating the sharp contours and prominences of his physique—only to vanish prematurely. Suzanne, taken back this time, was unable to utter a third command. Before she could modify her hand placement for another attempt, the div's limb darted forth like a fly's proboscis, clamping tightly around her right forearm. Despite her noble gaparo, offering the utmost protection, the grip of the div's hand induced searing pain in her forearm, shooting up her arm and into her shoulder.

"Ah, you refrained from crying out! Turns out you're a genuine Azarpeik! I admire courageous individuals, regardless of their lineage. So, allow me to bestow upon you the final kindness of your life..."

The div stooped over Suzanne's visage, and despite having sealed her breath within her chest, she was overwhelmed with the sensation that at any instant she might either retch or, even worse, lose consciousness from the loathsome scent of his damp body and fetid breath.

"Do you understand why you couldn't summon another attack? It's because that power isn't your own, and the div you've captured, the one you term 'Diva,' whose duration of confinement remains undetermined, has resurfaced! We will reclaim our captives from you!"

The pressure of his hand around Suzanne's forearm surged momentarily, and she could swear that in that instant, the entirety of the people she had ever encountered in her life flitted before her eyes. The more the div whispered in a voice that exuded the magnitude of a mound of lifeless bodies, the more a distinct odor of squalor wafted forth.

"Your friends in Ashuban who capture divs will soon experience the repercussions. They stand no chance against us. Consider yourself fortunate for not being there to witness their anguish and laments."

The div, at this point, relinquished the force he exerted on Suzanne's right forearm and, instead, seized her other forearm. Suzanne was immobile. Throughout all her years, her div, Diva, had always dutifully followed her commands. What had transpired to disrupt that obedience? She wasn't certain whether she was more tormented by the overwhelming sense of helplessness and despair that she had never encountered before, or by the inescapable proximity of death, not knowing exactly how it would claim her life. Summoning the last vestiges of her willpower to confront the Nothingness that loomed, she pried her eyes open, which had instinctively shut in anticipation of imminent death. However, she found herself still ensnared in the div's clutches. The div, upright once more, closed his eyes and began to softly hum the enigmatic melody he had earlier chanted. Suzanne, mesmerized in astonishment, had but little time to ponder, for an unfamiliar pain coursed through her body, from crown to toe. Subsequently, the div released his grip, and Suzanne crumpled to the ground, wracked by agony that encompassed her from head to foot. As she convulsed upon the muddy terrain, her last endeavors to suppress a scream and maintain an honorable death proved fruitless. Her vision waned steadily as the searing pain and obscurity enveloped her.

From the midst of the agony and the enveloping darkness, she was oblivious to the events that ensued. Had a bolt of lightning arced through the sky? Or did a white flame suddenly pass over her head? As her eyelids gradually closed, she beheld the div's massive form descend, initially to his knees, and then to the earth, a gaping hole perforating his chest. Her final auditory impression was the sound of muffled screams emanating from a distance, swallowed by the tumultuous tempest's uproar.