The low hum of quiet conversation filled the clandestine meeting room, tucked away in the shadowy confines of the Crown, Arvendon's most notorious district. Abby, her nerves tightly coiled matching her tentacles, scanned the dimly lit faces of her newfound allies, each one marked by a resolute but anxious demeanor. Despite her trepidation, the camaraderie and shared purpose of the group bolstered her spirit. The new knowledge she had gained from the female narrator the previous day helped her steel her resolve to confront Thane on her own terms. She had contacted Julie and asked to join the next meeting.

As Julie stood to address the gathering, her voice barely above a whisper but carrying a fierce intensity, she described how they must disband and scatter to gain more followers. She named members who had been with the resistance the longest, giving them ranks and sectors of the Crown to look after. She announced she would still be the leader and would send messages to them in a cryptic sort for information and orders.

“We have been too comfortable and have begun to show ourselves,” Julie’s voice carried the air of a leader born under a tremendous weight. “It’s only a matter of time before our ideals become true. Continue to disrupt the supply routes sent by the high king and use those materials to help the poor in need!” The crowd rose, their cheers in accordance with her will.

Something didn’t sit well with Abby. Julie had said Sevas had not sent help down to the Crown. But now she learned that he had, but the supplies were being stolen. As the meeting adjourned and the members began to disperse with the majority still waiting for the opportunity to speak with Julie with questions, Abby approached Julie, her mind racing with questions.

“Julie, can we talk?” Abby’s voice was low but insistent, her tentacles twitching with unease.

Julie turned, her expression softening at the sight of her friend. “Of course, Abby. Let’s step outside.”

They moved to a secluded corner, the distant sounds of the city a muffled backdrop to their conversation. Abby’s mind was a whirl of conflicting thoughts, and she struggled to find the right words.

“Julie,” she began, her voice trembling slightly. “You said Sevas hadn’t sent help to the Crown, but tonight I heard that the supplies he sent are being stolen. What’s going on?”

Julie’s eyes hardened, and she took a deep breath before replying. “Abby, it’s more complicated than it seems. Yes, Sevas sends supplies, but they’re a pittance compared to what’s needed. And the ones who get them are often the most loyal to him, leaving many still in need. We redistribute them to ensure those who are truly suffering get the help they deserve.”

Abby’s brows furrowed. “But you made it sound like he wasn’t helping at all. Why not tell everyone the whole truth? What kind of supplies are we talking about here?”

Julie’s gaze sharpened, but before she could respond, there was a commotion near the entrance of the meeting room. A group of resistance members entered, their arms laden with crates. “We’ve got a new shipment!” one of them called out, his voice echoing in the enclosed space.

Julie’s face remained impassive as she turned to address the group. “Good, bring them over here,” she instructed, her voice steady.

Abby watched as the crates were placed on a nearby table. The members pried them open, revealing the contents inside. Abby’s eyes widened as she saw the supplies: food, water, and building materials—exactly what was needed to address the sinkholes and support the community.

Julie turned back to Abby, her expression unreadable. “These are the supplies we’ve intercepted,” she said calmly.

Abby felt a surge of anger. “Julie, this is exactly what the Crown needs! Why lie about it? These are essential supplies, not weapons or something harmful!”

Julie’s eyes flashed with a mix of frustration and resolve. She took a deep breath and began to explain. “Abby, Sevas is loved down here in the Crown more than any High King before him. His dispensers have made him a hero to many, providing food and resources that previous kings never bothered with. But that love is dangerous—it blinds people to his true nature, to the control he exerts over them.”

She continued, her voice low but intense. “When I first started the Points food black market, it was a means to circumvent Sevas’ influence, to get more resources for the Crown. But it backfired. The black market became a tool for the Points, and Sevas used it to tighten his grip even further.”

Abby listened, her anger mingling with confusion. “So, you started the Resistance with Erik to change that?”

Julie nodded, her eyes clouded with the weight of past decisions. “Yes, Erik and I formed the Resistance to sever the Crown’s love for Sevas, to show them that he’s not their savior. But we constantly failed. No matter what we did, Sevas remained the benevolent figure they worshipped.”

Her voice took on a steely edge as she continued. “Then the sinkholes appeared. Suddenly, we saw a key to our success. The supplies Sevas was sending—they were more than just aid, they were a means to control. By intercepting and redistributing them, we could expose Sevas for what he truly is and shift the Crown’s loyalty.”

Abby’s brows furrowed. “But you’re still lying about the supplies. Isn’t that the same kind of manipulation?”

Julie sighed, her shoulders sagging slightly. “It’s a calculated risk, Abby. We need the Crown to see Sevas as the enemy, not the provider. If they believe he’s abandoning them, their loyalty will waver. We can’t afford to play by the rules when the stakes are this high.”

Abby looked at the crates, then back at Julie, her mind torn between her principles and the harsh realities of their struggle. “I understand the need to control the narrative, Julie, but this feels wrong. People deserve to know the truth, and they deserve these supplies without the lies.”

Julie’s expression softened slightly, a hint of regret in her eyes. “I know it’s hard to understand, Abby. But trust me, this is the best way to ensure the resistance survives and thrives. We’re fighting for a greater good.”

Abby looked at the crates, then back at Julie, her mind torn between her principles and the harsh realities of their struggle. “I want to help, Julie, but I can’t stand by and watch people suffer because of our lies. There has to be a better way.”

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Julie sighed, her shoulders sagging slightly. “Maybe there is, Abby. And maybe, with your help, we can find it. But for now, we need to stay united and focused. The resistance needs us to be strong and strategic.”

As the tension between them simmered, Abby nodded slowly. “Alright, Julie. I’ll stay and help, but we need to find a way to do this that doesn’t compromise our integrity. We owe it to the people we’re trying to save.”

Julie offered a small, appreciative smile. “Agreed. We’ll find a way, Abby. Together.”

As Abby and Julie shook hand and tentacle, the makeshift door to their hideout suddenly burst open. General Thane, flanked by his elite guards, stepped into the murky light, his presence like a dark cloud descending upon them.

“Now, we have all the traitors rounded up in one place,” Thane proclaimed with chilling calmness, his eyes sweeping over the room with disdain. “The city will be cleansed of your defiance. Detain them, men!”

Panic erupted as the guards advanced, their steps methodical and ruthless. Grounders used the very earth to trap the remaining resistance members in place, rendering them immobile. Julie’s eyes met Abby’s, a silent exchange of fear and determination passing between them.

Before Abby could react, a guard lunged forward, seizing Julie. With no time to spare, Julie turned to Abby, her expression a blend of apology and command. “Run, Abby!” She drew a sword from her side and sliced into the guard standing in front of her.

Abby hesitated, torn between the urge to help her friend and the need to escape. Nat, unseen and ever-watchful, whispered urgently in her ear, “You need to go, Abby. Now!” Her heart pounded as she watched the scene unfold. Julie, defiant and fierce, was fighting her way towards General Thane, her sword flashing in the dim light.

"Julie, no," Abby whispered, her heart aching with fear and admiration.

Julie moved with purpose, slicing through the guards that stood between her and Thane. She was a blur of motion, a force of nature driven by determination. But as she closed in on Thane, it became clear that the General was a formidable opponent, even with just one hand.

Thane drew his sword, meeting Julie's assault with practiced ease. Their blades clashed, sparks flying as they engaged in a deadly dance. Abby watched, her breath caught in her throat, as Julie fought with all her might. But Thane was the better swordsman, his skill and experience evident in every precise movement.

“Julie, don’t make me do this,” Thane warned, his voice edged with a hint of reluctance. “I don’t want to harm you. Surrender now, and you might still live.”

Julie’s eyes burned with defiance. “I’d rather die fighting than live as a puppet,” she spat, renewing her assault with fierce determination.

Thane’s face hardened, his resolve steeling. He had been raised from the slums by Sevas, given a purpose and a place by the High King’s side. Loyalty to Sevas ran deep in his veins, and he couldn’t afford to show weakness. Yet, he respected Julie’s spirit and didn’t want to kill her. But as she continued to press the attack, he knew he had no choice but to defend himself fully.

With a swift, brutal strike, Thane disarmed Julie, sending her sword clattering to the ground. He moved in for the kill, his expression cold and resolute. Julie, defiant to the end, tried to fight back with her bare hands, but Thane was relentless.

In a final, devastating blow, Thane's sword pierced Julie's heart. She gasped, her eyes widening in shock and pain, before crumpling to the ground. Julie crumpled to the floor, her life extinguished in front of Abby’s horrified eyes. The sight ignited a fierce, raw surge of adrenaline in Abby. Abby's scream of anguish was silent, trapped in her throat as she watched her friend fall.

Thane turned, his gaze locking onto Abby's hiding place. He began to advance, his steps measured and deliberate. Abby's grief and fury surged, igniting a fire within her. She stepped out of the shadows, her tentacles writhing with rage, and fire brimming around her visage.

"You killed her," Abby spat, her voice trembling with emotion. "You killed Erik. You will pay for this, Thane."

Thane raised an eyebrow, impressed by her defiance. "So, you know the truth and yet you allowed me into your abode?” He paused when he realized she was set ablaze. “You've awakened your abilities," he observed calmly. "Interesting. Let's see what you can do."

With a cry of vengeance, Abby summoned her powers, hurling fireballs at Thane with all her might. The flames roared; their heat intense as they streaked towards him. Thane deflected the first few with his sword, but the sheer force of Abby's fury began to overwhelm him. His blade soon began to glow with the heat they were absorbing. Runes glowed along with the blade, dousing the flames it encountered.

"You've grown strong, Abby," Thane admitted, a hint of respect in his voice as she was quite skilled despite recently awakening. The few months she was gone something happened. Though, maybe this is what an Auctian could do. "But strength alone won't be enough to defeat me."

The battle raged on, the night air filled with the crackle of fire and the clash of steel. Abby fought with everything she had, driven by the memory of Julie and Erik, her heart burning with the desire for justice.

As Abby attacked, she felt a surge of satisfaction at seeing Thane struggle against her flames. But amidst the adrenaline and anger, a cold realization settled in. Thane was an elite warrior, trained and experienced. Her rage alone wouldn't be enough to overcome him. Every clash of their weapons, every narrowly dodged strike, reminded her of her inexperience and the brutal reality of combat. The image of Julie's lifeless body and Erik's tragic end flashed in her mind. She couldn’t let their sacrifices be in vain by dying here pointlessly.

Nat, unseen and ever-watchful, whispered urgently in her ear, “You need to go, Abby. Now! He’s too skilled you’ll wind up the same a Julie!”

The urgency in Nat’s voice cut through the haze of her fury, bringing clarity to her chaotic thoughts. Abby realized she had to survive—not just for herself, but for those Thane had killed Erik and Julie, for the chance to continue their fight. Vengeance would have to wait.

Regaining her senses momentarily, she dashed toward the nearest exit, her tentacles flailing behind her. With a final, anguished glance at Julie, Abby turned and fled, her tentacles propelling her with speed and agility. Thane, sensing what she was going to do, sliced through the air, severing two of her tentacles in a spray of luminous Auctian blood. The pain was excruciating, but fear and survival instinct propelled her forward, bursting out of the warehouse they were meeting, out into the night-shrouded streets of the Crown.

As she ran, Abby's thoughts raced she cauterized her severed tentacles so not to leave a trail. She had to survive to honor Julie’s and Erik’s memories, to fight another day and bring down Sevas and his regime. The loss of her tentacles was a brutal reminder of the night's horror, each movement marked by acute pain and the stark fear of being hunted. But she couldn't let herself be caught now. Not when there was still so much to fight for.

Abby’s escape was a blur of shadow and light as she navigated the labyrinthine alleyways of the slums. Her heart pounded in sync with her frantic pace, every step driven by the visceral need to survive. The wounds throbbed painfully, but she gritted her teeth and pushed on, determined to live and continue the battle that Julie and Erik had started.

Behind her, the sound of pursuing footsteps and the occasional shout from Thane’s guards kept her moving, pushing her deeper into the neglected heart of the Crown. Nat, struggling to keep up, scribbled furiously in his notebook, trying to alter their fate with each stroke of his pen.

As Abby and Nat fled through the shadowed alleyways of the Crown of Arvendon, the clamor of the city night was a discordant symphony to their desperate escape. Abby's heart hammered against her ribs, each breath searing her lungs as if she inhaled the cold fire of fear itself. The sense of isolation was evident—amongst the sea of indifferent faces, she was an anomaly, marked and alone, her fate intertwined irrevocably with the crumbling order of a city that had turned its back on her.

Swerving sharply, Abby led them down a less traveled path, the old stones of the district whispering tales of neglect under their hurried steps. Nat, his features etched with concentration, managed to scribble in his ever-present notebook, his other hand clutching the corner of a building to pivot around a tight corner.

“This way,” he gasped, nodding toward a narrow road that descended into the city’s forgotten quarters. “Something’s bound to change if we head down here.”

Abby’s eyes flickered with uncertainty. “Change for the better or worse?” she asked, a tremor in her voice mirroring the tremble in her limbs.

“Can’t be worse than being caught,” Nat replied, his voice taut with tension. He glanced back towards the sounds of pursuit, a grimace fleeting across his face.

Resolved yet wary, Abby nodded sharply. "We keep moving." They darted towards the road, the dilapidated buildings leaning over them like spectators to their plight, silent witnesses to the desperation of the hunted.

As they approached a gaping maw in the earth and metal—a sinkhole that yawned ominously in the cracked pavement—Julie’s earlier words about the city’s instability echoed in Abby’s mind, a stark reminder of the danger that lurked beneath the surface. The sinkhole was a dark void, its depths lost to shadows.

Pausing at the edge, Abby caught Nat’s arm. “If I jump, can you guarantee my safety?” Her voice was laced with stark fear, each word heavy with the weight of potential finality.

Nat met her gaze, his eyes a mix of resolve and regret. “Abby, I can ensure my own...” he tapped Erik’s armor he was always wearing, “...survival, it lags real time. But you, I’m not so sure.”

With the roar of their pursuers swelling behind them, Abby drew a deep, shuddering breath. “You’re useless… Then it’s a leap of faith,” she muttered, her decision made in the face of an uncertain future.

Without another word, she stepped forward, plunging into the sinkhole as the darkness enveloped her, swallowing her form whole as she descended into the belly of the city, towards destinies yet unwritten and challenges unknown.