Meanwhile, at the end of the central passageway, Damian marveled as they stepped through the concealed entrance. "Whoa," he thought, "I can't believe this leads to such a massive library." His eyes widened with curiosity. "It's like a hidden world of books, centuries of knowledge. If nothing else, vampires are good at bookkeeping."

A grin tugged at his lips. "Maybe they have books on mythical cutlery." As he surveyed the surroundings, Damian felt Emily's hand grasp his left hand. "Don't be afraid, it's just us in here," Damian reassured, attempting to pull away, but Emily's grip remained firm. "Huh?" Damian tried again, but Emily didn't yield. "I knew something wasn't right about you," Damian said, reaching for one of his blades on his back with his free hand.

"Emily's voice quivered as she muttered, "Not again... I never wanted this." She faced an internal struggle as she succumbed to the uncontrollable darkness inside of her. Covering his blade in cutlery, Damian attempted to slash Emily's head off, but with a swift blow to the chest, Emily sent Damian crashing straight into a bookshelf. "I underestimated you, huh," Damian muttered. "I decided to shelter the darkness to save them. I tried not to fail them, but they continued to fail me," Emily spoke.

"Fail who!" Damian yelled when suddenly Emily started to scream out in agony. She felt a searing pain in her eyes, as if they were being engulfed in flames from within. Emily gritted her teeth, trying to push through the agony as her vision blurred, waves of intense heat rippled through her body, coursing like molten lava through her veins. Her skin crackled and smoldered, emitting heavy black smoke as her flesh began to evaporate into smoke. Suddenly, the thick smoke began to swirl around Emily, engulfing her in its suffocating embrace. She coughed and choked, feeling as though air was being sucked from her lungs.

As the smoke thickened, her bones started to shift and reshape as her body was consumed by white-hot flames, revealing a skeletal form wreathed in pitch-black smoke. The transformation neared completion; a suit of black smoke materialized around her skeleton frame, and a scythe materialized in her hands. Then, as quickly as it had begun, the transformation was complete.

"What are you?" Damian asked. "I am what I was made to destroy. I was not named at birth, but I am the thirteenth," it replied before Damian grabbed his blades and charged towards Thirteen. "I don't know what made you what you are, but what I know is you are in my way," he declared as he unleashed slashes towards Thirteen. The strikes cut through the air like sharp blades of wind, slicing through everything in their path. But to his surprise, each strike was absorbed by Thirteen's dark cloud of smoke.

"Damn it, how's that possible?!" Damian said as he ran out of Thirteen's view. "You cannot escape me, Damian," Thirteen's voice echoed through the library. "I gotta rethink my attack plan," Damian thought to himself as he ran into the maze of towering bookshelves. Thirteen moved slowly through the room, and as she walked, the bookshelves started to fall in her direction like dominoes. "I expected better," she yelled out as the white flames of her scythe instantly incinerated the bookshelves that were about to land on her.

Suddenly, Thirteen turned around, and Damian burst right through the bookshelf behind her and went in close for a fatal blow to her skull. But Thirteen blocked his slashes with her dark cloud but was slightly pushed back. "Nice try, but you gotta do better than that," Thirteen said as Damian clashed with her. "It's becoming increasingly clear the longer this fight goes that I am outmatched," he thought to himself as she parried his attack. Her movements remained calm. "His attacks are growing more frantic with each passing moment," Thirteen thought. The white flames on her scythe heightened intensely. "I gotta avoid those flames at all costs," Damian thought as he struggled to think of a plan.

"I can't keep this up much longer," Damian thought, desperation creeping up his mind. He dodged another swing of Thirteen's scythe, narrowly avoiding the deadly flames that licked at his heels. As he fought, Damian racked his brain for a solution. "I can't match Thirteen's strength head-on, but I also can't afford to give up. April's still... There has to be a way to turn the tide of this battle."

"If I can overwhelm Thirteen with enough cutlery attacks, she shouldn't be able to defend against them all," Damian thought as he put his risky plan into play. Damian then unleashed a flurry of air slashes using cutlery, each one aimed at Thirteen's head. The gusts of wind sliced through the air, their razor-sharp edges cutting through everything. Thirteen reacted quickly, parrying most of Damian's attacks with her scythe. But as his onslaught continued, she struggled to keep up. Damian's relentless barrage pushed her to the back, forcing her onto the defensive.

For a moment, it seemed as though Damian was finally able to get her pinned down. "I might have the upper hand," Damian said. But then the white flames on Thirteen's scythe blew out. Damian gritted his teeth, his muscles aching with exertion. "I can't keep this up forever; come on, burn out," he exclaimed. When the heat being emitted by Thirteen's scythe blew him back, "I can't afford to lose—not when so much is at stake," he thought as he erected a cutlery barrier to shield himself from the heat waves. "I think it's time I put an end to this farce," Thirteen said as she walked towards him.

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"If I don't put an end to this fight quickly, I'll die," Damian muttered. But as he held the barrier up, Damian couldn't shake the feeling that time was running out—that no matter what he did, victory remained just out of reach. And as Thirteen advanced, her scythe wreathed in flames, Damian knew that he was running out of options.

Meanwhile, as Shawn ventured deeper into the tunnels, he exclaimed, "Ha, finally, light at the end of the tunnel!" His curiosity piqued, he stumbled upon a room and pushed aside the heavy fabric at the entranceway as he stepped in. *"Ancient symbols everywhere; I can't tell what they say,"* Shawn thought. "I never expected this," he said as he found himself standing in a room filled with ancient relics and artifacts, each one pulsating with mystical energy. Shelves lined the walls with ancient scrolls.

Shawn then noticed a pedestal at the center of the room, upon which rested a shimmering red crystal orb. "What is that?" Shawn found himself absorbed in the orb's mystery. "Wait, what was I here to do again?" Shawn said as his focus started to fade. He then reached out to touch the orb, and as soon as his fingers made contact, a surge of energy coursed through him, filling his mind with visions. Without warning, Shawn was overcome by a wave of dizziness. He stumbled backward, clutching at a table nearby to steady himself. And then, it began.

Shawn suddenly found himself in a forest somewhere. "Where am I?" he said as he cautiously stepped through the overgrown foliage. A strange sensation washed over him. Visions flickered before his eyes like fragments of a shattered mirror, disjointed and disorienting. He saw flashes of faces, hands reaching out in desperation, but the details eluded him like smoke slipping through his fingers. "What... what is this?" Shawn muttered.

First, there was a whisper of avarice, a fleeting image of golden coins slipping through greedy fingers before vanishing into thin air. Shawn shook his head, trying to clear the haze that clouded his mind. But before he could regain his bearings, another vision emerged. This time, it was a specter of wrath tearing through cities like a hurricane unleashed. He felt the heat of anger searing his skin, the taste of bitterness lingering on his tongue. Yet, even as the vision consumed him, they remained just beyond his grasp, slipping away like a dream. *"No... this can't be real,"* Shawn thought.

Each vision came and went in a blur of sensation, leaving Shawn reeling. Lust, gluttony, envy, sloth, pride—the sins danced before his eyes. "What do you want from me?" he yelled out. And then, as suddenly as it had begun, the visions faded into darkness, leaving Shawn alone once more in the quiet stillness of the forest. He stood there for a long moment, "What does this all mean?" he asked himself, trying to make sense of what he had seen. But the more he tried to grasp the meaning of the visions, the more they slipped through his fingers like grains of sand.

With a heavy sigh, Shawn turned and started to wander through the forest, his mind swirling with questions. As Shawn stumbled through the forest, another wave of dizziness hit him. Amidst the swirling mists, he caught a glimpse of silhouettes mounted on horseback. The ground trembled beneath their hooves as they rode forth, a silent herald of doom. The harbingers of the end times, agents of the apocalypse. "No... this can't be happening," Shawn said in shock. But before he could comprehend the vision before him, the scene shifted once more. Now, he found himself face to face with a solitary figure—a knight, clad in tarnished armor, a grim specter of despair.

The knight bore a burden unlike any Shawn had ever seen—a coffin, black as midnight, strapped securely to his back. He moved with slow, deliberate steps. Shawn watched in stunned silence as the knight passed by, lost in his own thoughts. And then, as if sensing Shawn's presence, the knight turned to regard him with hollow eyes. "Turn back?" the knight said. Shawn opened his mouth to speak, but before he could utter a word, the vision shattered like glass, leaving him alone once more in the room with the orb.

---

•Damian Nightfall

Born: 11.16.1997 on a remote island.

Age: 22 years

Occupation: Deacon Class IV [Military Captain]

Primary Weapon: Dual Serpent Blades

Fighting Style: Swordsman [Cutlery User]

Physical Description: Height 5'11" with straight long black hair tied in a ponytail. Often wears his black suit with his blades crossing to make an X on his back.

•Emily Mayfield

Born: Unknown

Age: Unknown

Occupation: Former Waitress at the Silver Sands Bar

Primary Weapon: N/A

Fighting Style: N/A

Physical Description: Height 5'8" with long blonde hair up to her waist and a bear claw-looking birthmark on her back. Often wears casual clothes (blue jeans and a black T-shirt).

•Thirteen (13)

Born: Unknown

Age: Unknown

Occupation: Unknown

Primary Weapon: White Flame Scythe

Fighting Style: Scythe Combat [Non-Cutlery User]

Physical Description: Height 6'4", skeleton with black smoke coming out of its eyes. Always wears a black cloak made of smoke.

•Shawn Hoffman

Born: 03.07.1995 in Rosehiem, Germany,

Age: 24 years

Occupation: Deacon Class V [Military Captain]

Primary Weapon: Maul Thrust Hammer

Fighting Style: Maul Warfare [Cutlery User]

Physical Description: Height 6'2" with short ginger hair, often wears a trench coat with a black vest under grey jeans and brown boots.