Slowly, a manhole cover slid from its place and out onto the street under Silas’ fearful gaze. It wasn’t loud, quiet enough that he could only barely hear it after his senses had been enhanced. Quiet enough that of the people in the Villa, only two could hear it. Quiet enough that in most villas, none could.

His face blanched as grey figures slowly climbed out from the sewers. The situation had become abruptly clear to Silas- the hordes were not meant to keep survivors out. It was meant to keep them in. He watched as their long limbs slowly dragged them out from underground, clothes torn and hanging loosely from their forms.

The mutants looked starving. Many were over eight feet tall, their arms longer than the others with dark and glassy eyes. Their nails had cracked and dulled, their jagged edges still strong enough to tear flesh and rend bone. Nearly a dozen Voiceless climbed out from the sewers before mutants stopped coming through.

Standing still, the Voiceless simply stood in a circle around the manhole cover while tens of basic mutants spread out at a leisurely pace on the street. Some had started shambling towards the Villa they were in, but it was hard to tell where exactly they were heading.

Slowly and without a sound, Silas stepped out from his room and towards the Directors. He hadn’t had the chance to open his door when The Director did so himself, his expression grave.

The Director signalled to keep quiet and the two went downstairs without a sound. Plan after plan shot through Silas’ mind as he tried to think of something, anything. Leaving through the road would be suicide- any noise would attract the Voiceless. Fighting the mutants would create noise- attracting the Voiceless.

Not fighting the mutants would allow them to break into the Villa. Self-defence would result in noise. Then the Voiceless would attack anyway. Silas frowned as he saw the Director slowly and quietly wake the kids up and explain the situation as best he could without causing a panic. Silas could tell it wasn’t working great because he was suddenly getting a lot more fear energy than before.

With his improvements, he could fight the basic mutants. Several, but not a lot of them. A single Voiceless would still be a deadly threat, assuming they haven’t gotten stronger either. The Director could deal with a lot of mutants on his own, but he faces the same problem- the Voiceless.

They needed a Bell.

Silas saw Caisus look towards him with sleepy eyes, still not entirely comprehending the situation. None of the other kids had noticed his presence yet, but Little Albrecht had. With a smile, Silas gestured to be quiet and slowly walked back up stairs and towards his window. This was for them.

He quickly loaded his revolver with the highest deium content bullets he had and slipped it into the holster on his belt. He straightened his brown vest, rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and slid on his overcoat, fastening it tight. Silas didn’t want his clothes catching on anything. Afterwards, he walked towards the window and slowly pushed it open.

Stunned for a moment, Silas saw another man across the way in another Villa, looking at him with a grim expression. He watched the man make a small prayer gesture he recognized to be for Yvmirn. Silas just shook his head and slowly climbed out of the window and down the Villa’s wall.

Six shots before he reloaded. Five after the ‘Bell’. He either needed time to reload or to draw his knife. He couldn’t go too far though, or the mutants will have already started breaking in. Taking a deep breath, Silas started to walk down a side street away from the main road.

Not daring to take too long, Silas ran for only a minute before drawing his revolver and quietly aiming it towards the sky and the sea. Closing his eyes, he felt his enhanced senses take in all the information they could. The wind, the smell of blood, the cold sweat on his skin.

He remembered the feeling, before. He had realised after they got to the Lower City. He lacked fear, all of it refined by his Nightmare Seed. But when the fear became too much and he couldn’t refine it all, he was terrified again. He thought about abandoning the kids just to ensure he could see Sebastian again.

Silas didn’t think he’d be worthy of it, meeting his brother again if he did that; and if he died, he wanted it to be in a way his younger brother could be proud of. We all die anyway. Silas grinned and the fear energy he produced instantly skyrocketed, the Seed no longer bothering with drawing it in from the surroundings.

Fear? Fear is simply courage yet to be realised! Embrace it!

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With a bang, his revolver fired a shot straight up, a magnificent blaze spreading out from the end of the barrel in a lotus shape. Immediately he heard the screams of an unknown Screecher. Silas’ hands shook in a moment of fear. Embracing fear didn’t mean ignoring plans or throwing away his life.

He had, briefly, thought this through. If they’re all attacking through the sewers, they likely all left the sewer at the same time. That means the mutant groups are the densest right now, but after the defence starts, they’ll either assemble into larger groups or spread out. Either or, that gives Silas on his own a chance of survival so long as he survives the first onslaught.

His body shook again as Silas fired a second shot, feeling the fog brush by his face. Several Screechers went off this time and Silas immediately turned to run down the side road. His vision focused with utmost clarity, a blue light flashing in his eyes as the fog seemed to melt beneath his gaze.

Silas saw a young face peering over a windowsill from the second floor of a Villa as he ran by. The sound of roaring wind got closer now, the Voiceless catching up first. Four bullets until reloading.

He was running in a straight line away from the ‘Bell’, not only to get as far as possible as fast as possible, but also to take the chance to cull their numbers. Assuming he made it to another manhole cover, there was no guarantee it wouldn’t have mutants too. He couldn’t afford to fight two full groups at once.

The sounds of roaring wind got close enough and Silas stopped in place. Two targets. Gripping his coat at the shoulder and pulling it off him with one strong pull, he pivoted his foot and with one swift motion, turned around and tossed the coat at the closest Voiceless to him.

Its lanky figure immediately became caught up in the coat and Silas stepped to the side, letting it rush past him in a blind fury. The Nightmare Seed flashed with light as his senses, his instincts worked overtime to keep him alive. His arm shot up and with a flick of his wrist, the barrel of his revolver was level with the second Voiceless’ head.

Two shots sung out as the first bullet narrowly missed, only for the second to hit the creature in between the eyes, its head blooming like a flower of flesh and blood. The first Voiceless had just freed itself of Silas’ coat and turned around for him. Silas felt his blood energy surging with every movement.

Under its enhancement his movements were faster than ever, but not faster than a Voiceless. His only advantage was his advanced mind, forcing him to predict what his enemy would do rather than simply react. Silas leapt to the side long before the creature dashed forth, causing it to speed right by him.

Tumbling to the ground, Silas kept a firm grip on the revolver’s handle as he rolled over and shot at the creature twice. Amidst the bright red gunfire, Silas only saw the first shot lodge itself within the creature’s left knee mid dash.

He forced himself to stand pack up as the Voiceless tried to drag itself back onto its feet and darted over, swiftly drawing his knife and then stopping. He initially wanted to save a bullet- but his instincts warned him against it immediately. Silas’ eyes landed on the mutant’s long arms and realised why.

It could attack him long before he got close enough to use his knife.

Not even having the time to sigh, he raised his revolver one more time and levelled it with the Voiceless’ chest. Silas fired the last bullet and watched as it hit the creature solidly in its left chest and sent it falling towards the ground, still. Whilst the Voiceless were enhanced, it seems they didn’t understand their strengths enough to be a threat in isolation. Good.

Tearing off what was left of his coat sleeves, Silas quickly got to running again. Two out of nearly a dozen. That wasn’t a large amount, but it was enough. Reality proved him right as the sound of gunfire began ringing out in other parts of the Lower City, followed by the distinct scream of a Screecher.

Other’s had come into conflict now, and the mutants would begin to spread out from their initial areas of entry, giving the Director enough leeway to guide the kids back to the Estate, or at least a group of guards.

The issue was that he still had a bunch tailing him. The mass of basic mutants had long come into view. Clearly not all of those that left the sewer near their villa but enough to be a threat anyways. He was faster than them, but not fast enough to lose them any time soon. By the time he did, he’d probably be exhausted. A death sentence. Running now was only to buy time.

He quickly loaded what was left of his high deium content bullets and braced himself for the fight. Six shots, Six kills. Then he’d have to get his hands dirty. The noise will draw more, so Silas had to be quick. He took a deep breath and stopped in place, his innate talent rapidly cleansing the fear energy for his nightmare seed and refreshing his mind.

With a turn he whipped his arm up and aimed at the horde of mutants. Silas’ first shot sent one tumbling to the ground, headless. The second pierced a creature’s heart, dead. The third blew off an arm, the bullet blowing up inside it’s shoulder. His face paled.

With a bang, the fourth shot blew apart a mutant’s neck, destroying its spine and sending its head rolling. The fifth missed entirely. The sixth created a bowl sized cavity in another's chest. Out of the nine chasing after him..

He only killed three.

Silas took a step back with every shot, some vain belief that doing so would buy him adequate time. They were approaching rapidly and Silas did his best not to panic, his fear overloading the Nightmare Seed. He put the revolver back to the holster on his side and barely managed to draw his knife in time.

The six figures approaching him had long been abandoned by their humanity. Scraps of clothes hung from them still, much too small to tell what they used to be. Their eyes were dark green and hollowed out of all life. Some had bone spurs like spikes, some had two too many eyes. He even noticed a third arm growing from one of them.

Yet all Silas could feel from them was their hunger.