What are we doing here? A-a-are we here to see Melanthius?!” Anita stammered, her voice high with nervous excitement.

Arid didn’t respond, instead striding purposefully toward a warehouse-like structure nestled under the shadow of towering coral formations. The place looked eerie in the dim underwater glow, with strange aquatic creatures flitting around its edges. He pushed open the creaking doors and called out, “Yo, Goda.”

From the shadows, a towering figure emerged. Goda, his scaly, serpentine head glinting under the water’s faint light, moved toward them with slow, deliberate steps. “Yes?” he rumbled, his voice low and resonant.

“You got that stuff?” Arid asked, his tone casual.

Goda nodded and gestured for Arid to follow. Anita stood frozen in place, her mind racing. What the hell is happening? What did I get myself into?!

She hesitated before tiptoeing after them, peering around a stack of crates. She watched as Goda handed Arid a small bag filled with a strange, powdery substance that seemed to shimmer faintly in the underwater light.

Anita’s eyes widened in horror. Is this a drug deal?! she screamed internally.

Arid pulled out a knife with a vine motif etched onto its handle. With practiced ease, he cut the bag open, dipped his finger into the powder, and tasted it. After a moment, he nodded in approval and handed Goda a few coins that looked ancient, covered in strange runes.

Her thoughts were spiraling. “Oh my god. I just witnessed an actual drug deal. I’m gonna get arrested. I’m gonna die. What is my life right now?!

Before she could compose herself, Arid walked back toward her, holding the bag in one hand. Without a word, he shoved it into her hands.

“Don’t drop that,” he said flatly, his tone making it clear there was no room for argument.

Anita stared at the bag as if it were a live grenade, her hands trembling. “W-what is this?” she finally managed to squeak out.

“Don’t worry about it,” Arid muttered as they walked through the dimly lit corridors of Atlantis.

Anita’s heart was pounding. Her breath quickened as she whispered under her breath, “Oh my goodness, I am going to die.”

Arid, seemingly unfazed by her panic, casually pulled out his communicator and displayed a picture of Melanthius. “We’re all sick of Mel bossing us around,” he said, his tone darkening. “We’ve made up our minds—we’re going to kill him.”

Anita froze, her legs trembling as the words sank in. Her heart dropped into her stomach, and her eyes widened in shock. “W-w-what?!” she stammered, her voice shaking. “Why would you do that? Does it have anything to do with that powder?!”

Before she could spiral further, Arid's eyes narrowed, and in one swift motion, he pulled her into a shadowy corner. Pressing her against the wall, he loomed over her, his voice low and threatening. “Don’t say another word about that,” he hissed, his tone sharp enough to slice through the water.

Anita gulped, her back flat against the cold wall.

Arid sighed, softening slightly as he held up the bag of powder. “I’ll tell you, but keep your mouth shut.” He glanced around before leaning closer. “This powder? It’s Abyss Bloom Dust. It only grows here in Atlantis. Melanthius is the king, and he’s using it to make a fortune. He’s got deals going all over the kingdoms. Meanwhile, the rest of us? He gives us a measly ten percent of the profit while he swims in riches.”

Anita stared at him, her jaw slack.

He stepped back slightly, his expression dark. “So tell me, Anita. Do you really want to be best friends with someone who’d exploit his own people like that?”

Anita’s head spun, her thoughts a chaotic swirl of disbelief and terror. Was Arid telling the truth? Was Melanthius really capable of such greed? Or was this some elaborate trap? She didn’t know, but one thing was clear—she was way out of her depth.

“I don’t even know anything about drugs or… stuff like this,” Anita muttered under her breath, her fists clenching as the weight of her lies bore down on her. Her pulse quickened as her mind spiraled. “When did I even start lying so much? Oh… right. My father...”

She trailed off, her gaze unfocused as memories began to resurface.

Anita’s Backstory

Anita grew up in a small, struggling village near the borderlands of the Auroria Dominion, a place where opportunities were scarce and survival often meant cutting corners. Her father, a charismatic yet deeply flawed man, was the village’s self-proclaimed “fixer.” He was known for solving problems, but his solutions often came with a heavy price.

By the time Anita was ten, she had already learned the art of deception from him. Her father was a gambler who lied as easily as he breathed, spinning tales to wriggle out of debts or to charm his way into deals. Anita idolized him at first, believing his tricks and schemes were a form of cleverness, a way to make something out of nothing.

But as she grew older, the cracks in his facade began to show. His debts piled up, and his schemes started dragging the family deeper into trouble. Eventually, his lies caught up to him when he crossed the wrong people—a gang that didn’t take kindly to being cheated. One night, her father vanished, leaving behind nothing but a cryptic note: “I’m sorry, Anita. Be smarter than me.”

At just twelve years old, Anita and her mother were left to fend for themselves. Anita’s mother, a proud and honest woman, did her best to shield her daughter from the fallout, but the stigma of her father’s actions followed them everywhere. People whispered behind their backs, and doors that were once open slammed shut. Anita quickly learned that the truth didn’t get her far in a world where her name alone was enough to condemn her.

So, she started lying—small ones at first, to avoid questions about her father, to make her life seem less bleak. But as the lies grew, they began to shape her identity. Lying became a defense mechanism, a way to reinvent herself and escape the shadow of her father’s legacy.

Anita snapped back to reality, her chest tightening as Arid’s words echoed in her mind. “Do you really want to be best friends with someone who’d exploit his own people like that?”

Her heart raced. “What am I even doing here?” she thought, the weight of her fabricated connection to Melanthius pressing down on her. She glanced at the bag of Abyss Bloom Dust in her hands, the shimmering powder seeming to mock her.

“I didn’t come here to get involved in something like this,” she thought bitterly, her mind flashing back to the promises she made to herself after her father’s disappearance: Never get trapped in someone else’s game. Always stay one step ahead.

And yet, here she was, tangled in a web of lies and deceit, with no idea how to escape.

“Okay, let’s do it! What do you need me to do?” Anita asked, forcing a confident tone as she clenched her fists to hide the tremor in her hands.

Arid’s lips curled into a smirk, his sharp features taking on an almost predatory edge. “It’s simple,” he said, his voice dripping with a casual cruelty that sent a chill down her spine. “I want you to play the part. Stick close to him, hang out with him all day—make him trust you.” He leaned in slightly, his eyes narrowing. “Then, when night falls, you’ll lead him to the shore of Atlantis. We’ll take it from there.”

Anita swallowed hard, her throat dry as sand. “O-okay,” she stammered, her voice trembling despite her effort to appear composed. She nodded stiffly, her mind racing. “What have I gotten myself into?”

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

A few moments later, Anita found herself treading nervously into the dense forest, her heart pounding like a drum. “Arid said he’d be here,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “This is horrifying. I don’t want to do this.” Tears threatened to spill as she cautiously pushed forward. “Why did I lie? Why didn’t I just take the soupy hair and leave it at that?!” she whined, her regret swirling into panic.

Suddenly, a guttural grunt cut through the air. Anita froze as a grotesque, webbed head hurtled toward her. She ducked just in time, the monstrous object smashing into a tree trunk with a sickening thud. “W-what is that?!” she shrieked, her voice echoing through the forest. Another low grunt sounded from deeper within, spurring her trembling legs to move.

She crept further into the shadowy woods, her breath shallow as she crouched behind a boulder for safety. Peeking out, her eyes widened in shock.

There stood Melanthius Shadowbane, his presence commanding and electrifying. His wolf cut, now streaked with silver, framed his face with a sharp edge, his glowing purple eyes burning with an intensity she had never seen before. His skin had darkened slightly, evidence of countless hours spent training outdoors. He wore an Atlantean-made shirt and shorts, their fine material shimmering subtly. Over it, a luminescent jacket shifted through bright, ethereal hues, as if mirroring the ocean’s ever-changing colors. Around his neck, a necklace of intricate Atlantean craftsmanship glinted in the faint light. His sturdy boots grounded him, but nothing about him felt tethered—he was power incarnate.

Anita’s awe quickly gave way to horror as she realized what he was facing. Two silken enforcers, grotesque humanoid figures made of webbing, stalked him with lethal intent. They were Mel’s creations, spun from the web magic he had gained after consuming the Wild Storm Spider. Their eerie, shimmering forms moved with unnatural grace, their webbed limbs snapping through the air like whips.

Mel moved like a force of nature, launching an impossibly fast Hidden Cloud Kick at one enforcer, the sheer force sending it spiraling back. The second enforcer retaliated, landing a thunderous punch against Mel's chest. He staggered but countered in an instant, grabbing both their arms. With a fierce snarl, his hands crackled with black lightning, arcs of energy coursing through the webbed monstrosities. They convulsed violently before collapsing into lifeless heaps.

“Darn,” Mel muttered, his voice noticeably deeper, resonating with authority. “I didn’t want to use my black lightning.” His tone carried a tinge of frustration, as though the fight wasn’t challenging enough to truly test him.

Anita crouched lower, her fear mingling with awe as she whispered to herself, “What kind of monster have I gotten involved with?”

“Maybe they need weapons,” Mel murmured to himself, crouching down and pressing his palm into the earth. In response, the ground stirred, and from the soil emerged ten towering silken enforcers, their webbed forms shimmering ominously. He studied them for a moment before making a decision. With a wave of his hand, the enforcers’ limbs morphed into hooked blades, their razor-sharp edges gleaming under the faint light.

Satisfied, Mel sighed and walked over to his bag, pulling out an old, rusty chain. Despite its wear, the chain felt familiar in his grip. He returned to face the enforcers, spinning the chain with blinding speed, the air around it whistling ominously.

One of the enforcers lunged forward, its hooked blade slicing through the air toward him. Mel deftly swung his chain, intercepting the strike with a metallic clang. Using the momentum, he kicked the enforcer back, sending it staggering. Without hesitation, he leapt into the air, wrapping the chain tightly around its neck. With a swift pull, he tore its head clean off, the body collapsing into a heap of webbing.

Before he could recover, another enforcer grabbed his leg, yanking him down with incredible force and slamming him into the ground. The impact rattled his bones, but he gritted his teeth, refusing to falter.

The same enforcer leapt into the air, aiming its bladed arm directly at his chest. Mel inhaled deeply, his body steadying as he exhaled, his palm suddenly igniting with electric webbing that crackled and surged with power.

“Web Kung Fu: Webbed Chun Palm Strike!” he bellowed, thrusting his charged palm forward just as the enforcer descended. The strike connected with its chest, sending a shockwave rippling through its body. The enforcer shattered on impact, its remains scattering like dust in the wind.

Mel stood up, his breath steady despite the intensity of the battle. “Not bad,” he muttered, spinning the chain idly in his hand as he eyed the remaining enforcers. “Let’s see if the rest of you can keep up.”

As Anita hid behind the thick trunk of an ancient tree, her heart pounded in her chest like a drum. What am I doing here? she thought, biting her lip to keep from making a sound. Her eyes darted back to Melanthius as he fought the towering silken enforcers with an almost casual elegance, the rusty chain in his hand moving like a deadly serpent.

“He’s terrifying… and amazing. Who fights like that?” Her gaze locked on his glowing purple eyes, their intensity so sharp it made her shiver. She noticed the way his wolf-cut hair caught the light, the silver streaks adding to his almost otherworldly aura. “How did I think I could deceive someone like him? I’m such an idiot.”

Her fingers clenched the edges of her cloak as she tried to control her spiraling thoughts. “He doesn’t even look like the same person anymore. This isn’t just some high-ranking student; this is a king. And I’m supposed to help betray him?”

She swallowed hard, her mind replaying Arid’s words from earlier. "Do you really want to be his best friend?" Arid’s accusations had shaken her, but watching Mel fight—effortlessly dismantling the enforcers he himself created—made her realize something else: she wasn’t scared of Melanthius.

No, she thought, clutching the fabric of her sleeve, “I’m scared of what will happen to me if I don’t go through with this.”

Her mind flickered to her father and the lies she’d been weaving for years to survive. “It’s just one more lie, right? Just like always. But this time…” She glanced at Mel again as he obliterated another enforcer with a devastating lightning-infused palm strike. “This time, the lie feels like it might actually destroy me.”

Tears pricked her eyes, but she forced them back. “No. I’m not weak. I’ve survived worse than this. Haven’t I?”

Still, a sinking feeling settled in her stomach as Mel stood tall amidst the chaos, his chain swinging lazily in his hand, his eyes scanning the remaining enforcers like a predator toying with its prey.

“He’s going to find out, Anita thought. And when he does…” She bit her lip harder, a tear slipping down her cheek. “I don’t even know what scares me more—him finding out the truth… or what Arid will do if I try to stop this.”

Suddenly, the forest went eerily silent. Anita froze, her breath catching in her throat. She slowly stood, only to find herself face-to-face with Melanthius. He loomed over her, his glowing purple eyes narrowing, his expression shadowed and intense.

“Who are you?” he asked, his voice low and laced with menace.