Chapter 3: The Masks We Wear

The air in the Serkiuln hideout was suffocating, not just from the stale scent of damp stone and burnt oil but from the heavy burden each person carried. The hideout beneath the ruins of a once-thriving marketplace was dimly lit, the flickering flames of oil lamps casting eerie shadows on the walls. Every resistance member wore a mask to conceal their identity and guard their emotions against each other, a shield against betrayal and the ever-present threat of Ketuinkin.

Retsuki, Alitha, and Marten descend into the hideout, their steps echoing in the narrow passageway. They enter a cavernous room filled with whispers and movement. Resistance members are gathered in clusters, their masks a surreal and haunting display—each uniquely grotesque, an outward expression of the inner turmoil they sought to hide.

One mask is adorned with jagged, mismatched teeth as if its wearer had given their fear of failure a monstrous grin. Another is covered in cracked mirrors, reflecting fragments of their surroundings, never allowing anyone to see the wearer's entire face. A third is painted black, with streaks of red dripping like fresh wounds.

Alitha: (Whispering to Retsuki). They wear them for protection. The Ketuinkin... they can sense emotions. Feed on them.

Retsuki: (Quietly). What are they afraid of?

Marten: (Grimly) Everything.

The room falls silent as a figure steps forward, their mask a blank white face with hollow eyes that seem to stare through Retsuki. The leader of this cell, known only as "Mirthless," speaks with a voice that is calm but laced with an undercurrent of exhaustion.

Mirthless: You're the spark—the one from the broadcast.

Retsuki: I am.

Mirthless: (Turning to the room) We have their attention. The Wardens will scour this city for us. People will die.

Retsuki's glow dims slightly, but he stands firm.

Retsuki: People are already dying. You called yourselves Serkiuln—light in the dark. Was that a lie?

A murmur ripples through the room. Mirthless stares at him, unblinking, before slowly nodding.

Mirthless: (Softly) No. It wasn't a lie.

The group gathers around a makeshift table, its surface scarred and burned. A map of Yorktun is spread out, marked with red Xs—sites of past battles, lost cells, and known Warden patrols. Mirthless gestures to a section of the map circled in black.

Mirthless: This is the Stain, the heart of their control. The Turkerin operates here. Their presence is what keeps this city afraid.

Alitha: (Frowning) The Turkerin. I've heard the name, but I thought they were a myth.

Mirthless: (Shaking their head). They're real. Manifestations of the Ketuinkin's darkest potential. Beings that embody the sins this city has tried to bury.

Mirthless pulls out a faded document, the edges crumbling with age. It contains sketches and descriptions of the Turkerin—grotesque figures warped by their sins.

 • Gluttony: A bloated, oozing mass that consumes everything in its path, leaving starvation in its wake.

 • Lust: A serpentine creature that whispers desires into the minds of the vulnerable, twisting love into obsession.

 • Wrath: A towering beast of flame and iron, its presence inciting uncontrollable violence.

 • Pride: The most insidious, a humanoid figure draped in gold and light manipulates others into tearing each other apart through arrogance and betrayal.

Mirthless: They've weaponized sin. The Turkerin amplifies our worst emotions. And when those emotions consume you...

Marten: (Quietly) You become one of them.

Mirthless nods, their hands tightening into fists.

Mirthless: The Upbringers spread the Ketuinkin to keep us divided. Fear makes us easy to control. But the Turkerin... they're what ensure we stay that way.

After the meeting, the trio steps aside to discuss their next move. Retsuki notices how the masks seem to weigh heavily on the resistance members, their movements hesitant, their words careful.

Retsuki: (To Alitha) Why do they hide behind those masks, even here?

Alitha: (Sighing) The Ketuinkin don't just turn you into monsters. They use your emotions against you. If you let your guard down, even for a second...

Marten: (Cutting in). You're a danger to everyone around you. That's why we don't show our faces. You never know who might break.

Retsuki looks around the room, his glow flickering. He doesn't understand fear like they do but feels its weight pressing down on him, alien and suffocating.

Retsuki: (Firmly). We can't fight like this. Hiding. Afraid of ourselves.

Alitha: (Sharply). And what do you suggest? That we walk out, emotions blazing, and hope for the best?

Retsuki: (Meeting her gaze6, No. But we can't win if we're already defeated inside.

Marten looks at him, his expression unreadable behind his mask.

Marten: Maybe you're right. But you're not the one who has to live with the consequences.

The meeting reconvenes, and Mirthless lays out their plan: to infiltrate the Stain and gather information about the Turkerin. It's a suicide mission, but it's the only way to understand their enemy.

Mirthless: We've been fighting in the dark for too long. If we don't face them head-on, we're already lost.

Alitha: (Nodding). Then we hit them where it hurts.

Marten: (Skeptical). And if one of us turns?

The question hangs in the air, heavy and unspoken—mirthless answers without hesitation.

Mirthless: Then we do what needs to be done.

The room falls silent. Retsuki steps forward, his glow brightening.

Retsuki: I'll go. If I'm corrupted, I won't hurt anyone. I'll burn myself out before that happens.

The room erupts in protest, but Mirthless raises a hand, silencing them.

Mirthless: (Quietly) The spark in the darkness. Let's see if it can survive the shadows.