Cultist Factory
Runes flickered to life on a jagged stone outcrop, pulsing with an ominous red glow. The energy surged outward, illuminating the rocky terrain in fleeting bursts. The outcrop lay on the outskirts of Silva City, where the urban density thinned, giving way to scattered buildings, factories, and the occasional dimly lit house. Unlike the bustling heart of the city, this area was quiet—too quiet.
Belial and Cassidy arrived at their destination, their eyes set on a looming structure ahead. It was a large factory, sprawling and fortified. A faint shimmer in the air betrayed the presence of a barrier encasing the perimeter, designed to prevent any prying eyes or magical surveillance from peering inside. The sight of numerous armed guards patrolling the entrance made one thing clear—this place was heavily guarded.
Cassidy exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well, sneaking in isn't an option," he muttered. His violet eyes flicked toward Belial, who was studying the factory with a pensive expression. "Guess we'll have to try something else."
He only had one idea in mind.
A few minutes later, one of the masked guards stationed near the entrance noticed two men approaching. One had wild amethyst hair, his sharp features twisted in frustration as he gestured animatedly. The other, taller with cyan dreadlocks, exuded an air of barely restrained irritation.
"I'm telling you, you screwed up the entire deal!" Cassidy snapped, jabbing a finger at Belial's chest. "Do you even understand how much that shipment was worth? You don't just 'lose' something like that!"
Belial scoffed, crossing his arms. "Oh, 'I' screwed it up? You're the one who insisted we take the risk. I told you it was a bad idea."
"You were the one handling the negotiations, genius!" Cassidy shot back. His voice was rising now, just enough to draw attention. "But no, you had to act all high and mighty instead of just taking the damn offer. And now we're both screwed."
"Maybe if you didn't act like such a smug ass, we wouldn't be in this mess," Belial retorted, stepping closer.
Cassidy pushed him back roughly. "Oh, now it's 'my' fault?"
The guards at the entrance exchanged glances before stepping forward. "Hey! You two—what's your business here?" one of them barked, gripping his weapon.
Cassidy turned toward them with a frustrated glare. "We're looking for work. Thought maybe this place had something for people with our skills."
The guard didn't look convinced. "Didn't see you on the list."
Cassidy scoffed. "Yeah? Well, maybe your 'list' isn't up to date. Look, we're not here to waste time. Either let us in, or we'll take our business elsewhere."
The guards shared another glance before one of them gestured. "Bring 'em in. We'll let the superiors decide what to do with them."
Belial and Cassidy didn't resist as they were led through the entrance and into the factory. The moment they stepped inside, it became clear that the exterior had been deceptive. The interior stretched upward, towering at least five or six stories high, a maze of steel walkways and industrial machinery. The air was thick with the scent of oil and smoke.
The guards wasted no time in ushering them deeper underground. They descended a grated steel staircase, passing through a corridor lined with reinforced metal walls. Soon, they reached an area that felt different—colder, heavier. The final set of stairs led them into a holding area, where dim, flickering lights revealed several figures chained to the walls.
Belial's eyes narrowed. These prisoners weren't human. Beastmen, elves, and other non-human races filled the space, their expressions ranging from defeated to defiant.
The guards took their weapons and hung them on a rack And shoved the two into the holding cell, making belial stumble slightly.
One of the guards turned to his companion. "I'll go report to the higher-ups. See what they want to do with these two," he said before walking off.
As soon as he was gone, Cassidy took a slow breath and lifted his hand. A small bead of water formed at his fingertips, swirling with an unnatural clarity. He released it, letting it drift through the air.
Belial barely had time to process the action before Cassidy grabbed his wrist. Instantly, Belial's vision shifted. It was as if he had been submerged in a bubble, his perspective changing. The water acted like a living lens, reflecting images from any nearby surface that carried a reflection—polished metal, glass, even puddles of condensation on the walls.
Through this fragmented vision, Belial caught sight of something—or rather, someone.
A figure stood in a dimly lit room, surrounded by others clad in the same dark robes. His posture was rigid, his face partially obscured, but there was no mistaking him.
Flint.
The same man who had been with them during the raid.
Cassidy smirked. "Gotcha."
---
The vision abruptly shattered, snapping both of them back to reality.
Belial blinked, the cold steel of the damp cell coming back into focus. Cassidy let out a sharp breath and leaned against the bars, his expression darkening.
"Damn…" he muttered under his breath.
Belial sat up. "What happened?"
Cassidy clenched his jaw. "This cell has an ether-dampening effect."
Belial focused for a moment, trying to summon his energy—but the moment he did, he felt his reserves rapidly depleting, as if something was actively leeching the strength from him. It wasn't just suppressing their ether; it was draining it.
Cassidy reached out and touched the cage, only for a sharp crack of electricity to lash out at his fingers. He flinched back, shaking his hand. "There goes half of my reserves."
He sighed and leaned against the bars. "Guess we're stuck here for now."
Belial exhaled sharply, frustrated. "Can't you just blow it up? Like you did back in Undertown?"
Cassidy gave him a flat look. "Sure, I could. But with this thing draining me, how do you expect us to fight off all the weirdos up there after? You wanna get out just to be shot down five seconds later?"
Belial frowned. Cassidy had a point. Escaping would be one thing, but fighting in their current condition would be another. He clenched his fists, his mind racing for alternatives.
He thought of the Oracle. Is there anything we can do?
[Answer: No, there is not. At the rate of ether depletion, you have 9 minutes and 20 seconds before incapacitation.]
Belial sighed. Great.
Silence settled between them, the only sound being the faint hum of whatever device was sapping their strength. Cassidy sat back, rubbing his temples.
"Do your missions always suck this much?" Belial asked, irritation creeping into his tone.
Cassidy gave a small shrug. "Sometimes."
Belial glared at him. Oh, how much I want to strangle this guy.
Footsteps echoed down the corridor, drawing their attention. A figure approached—a guard, as expected. Belial assumed the other had gone to fetch someone, and now backup had arrived.
The new guard was bald, wearing a mask that obscured the lower half of their face, and had a build similar to Belial's—lean but solid. Unlike the others, this one carried a rifle slung across their shoulder.
Belial slumped further down on the floor, trying to assess their next move. That's when he noticed Cassidy shifting, moving toward the iron bars with a slow, deliberate motion.
He sat down facing the guard, his posture casual.
Belial frowned. "Hey, what are you doing?" he whispered.
"Relax, I got this. Watch and learn," Cassidy murmured back. "You might need to use this one day."
Then, out of nowhere—
"Ahh! There's a monster!" Cassidy yelped, flinching back dramatically.
The guard jerked, immediately gripping their rifle and scanning the cell, eyes narrowing.
"You! Stop playing around and sit down quietly," they snapped.
Cassidy chuckled, raising his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright, just having a little fun." His expression shifted, his lips curling into a disarming smile. "A question though… chérie, why are you working as a grunt for these buffoons?"
Belial's brows furrowed. Cherie?
[Answer: It means 'dear.' It was part of the language Sylvanians used before the war.]
Belial blinked. Wait… that's a girl?
The guard stiffened, adjusting their grip on the rifle. "That's none of your business."
Cassidy tilted his head, his voice lowering into something smoother. "Oh, but it is my business, mon amour. A stunning woman like you shouldn't be stuck guarding prisoners in some underground dump."
The guard scoffed. "Flattery won't get you anywhere."
Cassidy leaned forward slightly, his fingers drumming against the bars. "No? Then tell me—why are you here?"
The guard hesitated for a second, then scoffed again. "Does it matter?"
Cassidy's eyes gleamed. He had found the crack. "It does if you hate it here."
She stood in Silence.
He studied her for a moment, reading the slight tension in her stance, the way her fingers twitched against the rifle's grip. She was hesitating.
"You're not like the rest of them," Cassidy continued, his voice softer now. "I myself was a criminal;You don't look like someone who enjoys locking people up or being involved in shady business. So what is it? Bad luck? A mistake?"
The guard stood there quietly for a moment
She inhaled sharply. "…I don't have a choice."
Cassidy tilted his head. "Ah, voilà." He grinned. "Let me guess. You needed the money, didn't you?"
The guard's grip tightened on the rifle, but she didn't deny it.
Cassidy's expression turned almost sympathetic. "I see it all the time. People doing whatever they have to just to survive. You have something, don't you? Someone? A reason you're willing to put up with this garbage job?"
For a moment, she was silent. Then, barely above a whisper, she muttered, "…I'm sick."
Belial stiffened.
Cassidy's smirk softened just a little. "An illness?"
She nodded, gripping the strap of her rifle. "The treatment is expensive. I don't have many options. No one else world hire an ex:felon."
Cassidy's eyes darkened, but his voice remained light. "That's rough. And let me guess—these guys aren't exactly covering the cost, are they?"
The guard hesitated, then shook her head. "They keep saying they will. But the pay is barely enough to live, let alone afford the medicine I need."
Cassidy exhaled. "That's bullshit."
She didn't respond, but the way her shoulders slumped told them everything.
Cassidy tapped the bars, drawing her attention again. "So tell me something, chérie. You're here, stuck in this job, pretending it'll get better. But what if it doesn't? What if they never pay up?"
The guard swallowed.
Cassidy leaned in, his voice a whisper. "What if I had a better offer?"
Silence stretched between them, thick with tension.
Belial watched, his own mind racing. Cassidy was playing a dangerous game—but damn it, it was working.
Was it really working?
The guard's fingers twitched.