Nathen crouched low in the shadows of the bustling marketplace, his eyes fixed on a wealthy merchant boasting loudly about his recent fortunes. Beside him, Gobo, his master and mentor in the art of thievery, whispered instructions.
"Remember, Nathen," Gobo said, his voice barely audible, "confidence is key. Approach him with a sense of authority and make him believe you hold the secrets to unimaginable wealth."
Nathen nodded, taking a deep breath. With practiced ease, he adjusted his tattered cloak and emerged from the shadows, approaching the merchant with a charming smile.
"Good day, sir," Nathen began, his tone confident. "I couldn't help but overhear your conversation about investments. You strike me as a man of great insight and ambition."
The merchant, intrigued, raised an eyebrow. "And who might you be, boy?"
Nathen's smile widened. "A humble adviser with knowledge of a rare opportunity. For an investment of 150 coins, I can assure you that your wealth will multiply tenfold within a fortnight. But such opportunities are not for everyone—only those with the foresight and courage to seize them."
The merchant, greedy and easily swayed by the promise of riches, handed over the coins without hesitation. Nathen pocketed them and made a quick bow. "Thank you, sir. You will not regret this decision."
With the transaction complete, Nathen slipped back into the crowd, rejoining Gobo in the narrow alleyway. Together, they made their way to the underground sewers, where Gobo had a hidden vault filled with gold and jewelry amassed from years of successful heists.
In the dimly lit cavern, Gobo chuckled as Nathen added the new coins to their collection. "Well done, boy. You're learning quickly. Remember, it's not just about the money. It's about the art of the con—the ability to make people see what you want them to see."
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Nathen nodded, feeling a mix of pride and unease. He had mastered the art of deception, but a part of him yearned for something more—something beyond the shadows and lies.
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Back in the village of Nika, Sister Marry's heart pounded with anxiety. She had seen a group of men clad in dark ink armor, their presence ominous and foreboding. The Underdogs, she knew, were a ruthless clan, and they worked for a man named Abigale. Somehow, Abigale had discovered Nathen's true identity as the Red Rising.
Determined to find Nathen and ensure his safety, Sister Marry hurried through the village streets, her mind racing with fear and urgency. The Underdogs moved with deadly precision, spreading chaos and destruction. Explosions rocked the village, and the air was filled with screams and the scent of blood.
Sister Marry's breath caught in her throat as she reached the church. The once serene sanctuary was now a scene of carnage, with bodies strewn across the floor and blood staining the sacred ground. She scanned the chaos, desperately searching for Nathen.
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Nathen ran through the village, his heart pounding with dread. Explosions and screams filled the air, and the once familiar streets were now unrecognizable. His mind raced with worry for Sister Marry and the villagers he had known all his life.
As he reached the church, his worst fears were realized. An ink-clad general, known as Republic, had Sister Marry by the throat, lifting her off the ground. Her face was pale, but her eyes were defiant.
"Where is the boy?" Republic demanded, his voice cold and menacing.
Sister Marry's voice was strained but unwavering. "I will never tell you."
Nathen's anger surged, and without thinking, he hurled a fireball at Republic. The general turned, his eyes narrowing as he saw Nathen. "So, this is him," he sneered, conjuring a blade from the black liquid armor that covered his body.
Nathen created a shield of fire to block the attack and shouted, "Master Gobo, evacuate the villagers!"
Gobo, who had followed Nathen, nodded and began herding the panicked villagers to safety. Nathen turned his focus back to Republic, who had seized Sister Marry again, his blade poised to strike.
"Say goodbye," Republic taunted, his eyes gleaming with malice.
With tears streaming down her face, Sister Marry whispered, "I am sorry, Nathen."
Nathen screamed, "No!" and rushed towards them, but it was too late. Republic's blade plunged into Sister Marry, and she collapsed lifelessly to the ground.
Nathen fell to his knees, his world shattering around him. "Wake up... please wake up," he whispered, his voice broken with grief.
Republic approached him, his face twisted in a cruel smile. "It's over, kid. Surrender to Abigale."
Nathen's sorrow turned to rage, his eyes glowing red. With a roar, he unleashed a torrent of fire, engulfing Republic's face in flames. The general screamed in agony as his flesh burned, and Nathen punched him with a fiery fist, sending him sprawling.
Just as Nathen prepared to deliver the final blow, Gobo grabbed him and pulled him away. "We have to go, Nathen!"
Nathen resisted, his eyes locked on Sister Marry's lifeless form. But Gobo's grip was firm, and he dragged Nathen into the dense forest, the sounds of the burning village fading behind them.
As they ran, Nathen's heart ached with loss and fury. Sister Marry was gone, and with her, a part of his soul. But her final words echoed in his mind, and he vowed to honor her memory. He would uncover the truth of his destiny and ensure that her sacrifice was not in vain.