Return to Ardent

The air in the Ardent Quarter felt suffocating, even under the open sky. Elian hadn't realized how heavy the silence could be, broken only by the faint hum of technology woven into every corner of this gleaming district. The towering buildings, built from pristine steel and glass, contrasted sharply with the decaying slums they had left behind. Here, everything seemed engineered to perfection—a cold, calculated display of the monarchy's power over Calidria.

Ironhold was the crown jewel of the monarchy's technological might, a sprawling city designed to showcase Calidria's advancements. Its gleaming districts were powered by energy conduits buried deep beneath the streets, fueling everything from automated factories to advanced surveillance networks. Yet, this marvel of innovation came at a steep cost. The wealthy few lived in luxury, while the masses toiled in the shadows, forgotten by the rulers who claimed to serve them.

Elian pulled his hood lower, shielding his face from the artificial light streaming from the ornate lampposts. Beside him, Lena moved with practiced precision, her keen eyes darting across their surroundings.

"Everything here feels... fake," Elian muttered under his breath, his voice steady but laced with disdain.

"It is," Lena replied, her tone clipped. "It's all for show. They hide the rot beneath shiny walls and polished streets."

The distant cries and despair of their home district echoed in Elian's mind as he gazed at the spotless facades. He couldn't help but wonder how much suffering had been swept under the rug to create this illusion of prosperity. Determination tightened his jaw. This wasn't the kind of world he'd allow to persist without a fight.

As they approached the warehouse, Elian noticed two Iron Guard soldiers stationed at the entrance. Their polished armor, embossed with the crest of Calidria's monarchy, gleamed under the lamplight. The Iron Guard were more than mere enforcers—they were a symbol of the monarchy's unyielding grip on the nation.

Lena crouched behind a stack of crates, motioning for Elian to follow. "Vin said this place is crawling with security. We mess up, and we're dead."

"Then we don't mess up," Elian replied calmly, already summoning the tendrils of his power. His fingers flexed, and a faint green glow illuminated his hands. "What's the plan?"

"We take out the guards silently," Lena replied. "You handle the one on the left. I've got the right."

Without hesitation, Elian nodded. A vine sprouted from the ground near the guard's feet, slithering upward with unnatural silence. It coiled around the man's leg, then his torso, until it finally wrapped tightly around his throat. The guard struggled, his eyes bulging in panic as he clawed at the vine.

The other guard turned at the sound of the choking gasp, but Lena was already in motion. She struck him with a flurry of calculated blows, her fists connecting with brutal efficiency. The man crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

Elian released the vine, letting the first guard collapse in a heap. He stared at the lifeless body, his expression grim but resolved. "They had their chance to live a good life, actually helping people instead of making their lives a living hell."

Lena placed a hand on his shoulder, her grip firm but not unkind. "You did what you thought you had to. Let's move."

They slipped inside the warehouse, their steps muffled against the cold, metallic floor. The rows of crates and machinery hummed with energy, the air thick with the scent of oil and electricity.

At the center of the room stood a glowing terminal. Lena pulled out Vin's device, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she plugged it in. "Cover me," she whispered.

Elian nodded, his senses on high alert. Shadows danced in the dim light, each one setting his nerves on edge.

As Lena worked, Elian's thoughts wandered. The distant cries of the impoverished back in the slums seemed to echo in his mind. How many more would suffer while the monarchy flaunted its power? How many more lives would be crushed under the weight of Calidria's progress?

"Done," Lena whispered, pulling the device free.

But before they could leave, footsteps echoed through the warehouse. A squad of guards emerged from the shadows, their weapons aimed directly at Elian and Lena.

"Drop the device," one of them ordered, his voice cold and mechanical.

Elian reacted instinctively. Sharp vines erupted from the ground, their thorns glinting in the dim light as they lashed out at the guards. Cries of pain filled the air as the vines wrapped around their arms and legs, pinning them in place.

The other guards didn't flinch, their weapons glowing as they unleashed bursts of searing energy. One bolt grazed Elian's shoulder, the heat searing through his cloak. He hissed in pain but gritted his teeth, focusing on strengthening his vines. The thorns grew longer and sharper, tearing into the guards' armor with a metallic screech.

"Lena!" he called, his voice strained. "They've got tech that matches my power!"

"I see that!" Lena shouted back, her movements swift and deliberate. She ducked under a guard's swing, landing a brutal kick that sent him sprawling. "We need to get out of here!"

Despite their efforts, more guards poured into the room. Elian's energy waned, each vine he summoned sapping his strength. His vision blurred, and his knees threatened to buckle.

A guard with a gauntlet-shaped device aimed at Elian, releasing a burst of energy that sliced through the vines. The room filled with a deafening hum as a drone-like machine descended from above, its laser sights locking onto Elian and Lena.

"This isn't good," Elian muttered, his mind racing.

"Focus!" Lena snapped, grabbing his arm. "We're not done yet!"

Together, they sprinted for the exit, dodging gunfire and shouting guards. Lena covered their retreat with a barrage of improvised attacks, using crates and loose machinery to slow their pursuers.

As they disappeared into the shadows of the Ardent Quarter, the warehouse erupted into chaos. And as the cries of the wounded guards faded into the distance, Elian couldn't shake the feeling that their mission had unearthed something far darker than they'd anticipated.

But as they fled, the shadows stirred once more. A contingent of Iron Guards arrived moments later, their leader surveying the scene with icy precision. The air in the warehouse grew heavier, as though fear itself had taken shape and settled in the corners of the room.

"What happened here?" he demanded, his gaze locking onto a wounded guard.

The guard stammered, his face pale. "Two... two intruders. One of them... had powers."

The leader's expression darkened. His armor, a sleek black design marked with crimson accents, seemed to drink in the dim light. Without warning, he drew his pistol and shot the man, the crack of the gun echoing through the warehouse. The other guards stiffened but remained silent, their faces grim. None dared question the leader's actions.

"Spread out," he barked to his men. His voice carried a tone of unrelenting authority, devoid of any trace of empathy. "Find them. No one escapes the Iron Guard."

As the guards fanned out, their heavy boots clanging against the floor, a chilling silence followed in their wake. The leader stepped forward, his eyes scanning the room with an almost predatory focus. He crouched by one of the wounded men ensnared by Elian's vines, examining the sharp thorns with an unsettling calm.

"This isn't normal," he muttered to himself, his tone laced with something between fascination and contempt. He reached out, running a gloved finger along the vine, which recoiled slightly as though alive. "An anomaly."

He straightened, addressing his men again. "Double the patrols across the Ardent Quarter. If these intruders think they can challenge the monarchy, they'll learn the price of defiance."

The guards snapped to attention, their movements swift and mechanical. One by one, they disappeared into the shadows, leaving the leader alone in the dimly lit warehouse. He lingered for a moment longer, his gaze fixed on the broken vines that lay scattered across the floor.

"Whoever you are," he whispered, his voice barely audible, "you can't hide for long."