Chapter 4: The Sin of Pride

The streets leading to the Stain were lifeless. The air hung heavy, tinged with a faint metallic scent that clung to the back of the throat. Buildings loomed like skeletal remains of a forgotten past, their surfaces cracked and blistered by time. The closer Retsuki, Alitha, and Marten ventured to the so-called "heart of Yorktun," the more palpable the atmosphere of despair became. It wasn't just the darkness—it was the whispers. Faint, insidious, slipping into their minds and feeding on their insecurities.

Alitha: (Looking around nervously). Do you hear that?

Marten: (Tight-lipped.) It's not real. Focus.

But it was accurate enough. The whispers weren't words, not exactly, but fragments of emotion—resentment, envy, a clawing hunger for recognition. Retsuki's glow dimmed as he absorbed the weight of the place.

Retsuki: This is more than fear. It's... division.

Marten: (Sharply) That's Pride's doing. You'll feel it more the closer we get.

The ground beneath them shifted subtly, the cobblestones rippling like water. The air grew thicker, oppressive. Finally, they reached the square—a grotesque mockery of Yorktun's once-bustling center. At its heart stood a monolithic figure draped in a shimmering gold cloak, its humanoid form unnervingly perfect. Its face was a blank mask of polished gold, reflecting distorted images of those who gazed upon it.

Pride.

Pride turned its head toward the intruders, its voice sliding into their minds like silk dipped in poison.

Pride: (Telepathically) So Fragile. So desperate to matter.

Retsuki stepped forward, his energy crackling faintly. Pride's gaze shifted to him, the golden mask reflecting his glowing form.

Pride: And you. The spark that fancies itself a sun. How amusing.

Pride raised a hand, and the air around Retsuki shimmered. A wave of psychic energy slammed into him, not with force but with doubt. Images flooded his mind: the city burning, people turning on each other, and Retsuki himself standing at the center, his power destroying the people he sought to protect.

Retsuki: (Gritting his teeth). You can't break me.

Pride: (Laughing) Break You? I don't need to. You were born broken.

Alitha clutched her head, her breathing ragged. Pride's influence latched onto her deepest insecurities, whispering promises of power and recognition.

Pride: (To Alitha) Why follow when you can lead? You were more potent as a Warden. Feared. Respected.

Alitha's knees buckled, and she fell to the ground. Her hand inched toward her weapon, her eyes flickering between Retsuki and Pride.

Marten: (Grabbing her arm) Alitha! Snap out of it!

Pride: (Amused.) Look at you. Animals. You are fighting over scraps of validation. You don't need the Upbringers to destroy you—you do it for them.

Retsuki released a blinding light pulse, summoning every ounce of his energy. The force disrupted Pride's psychic grip, momentarily causing the golden figure to stagger. The whispers receded, but not entirely.

Retsuki: (To the others) Run! Now!

The trio fled through the twisting alleys of Yorktun, their breaths coming in ragged gasps. Pride's laughter echoed faintly behind them, the sound lingering in their minds even as they put distance between themselves and the Stain.

Marten: (Panting). That wasn't a fight. That was... something else.

Alitha: (Barely audible) I almost... I almost killed you.

Retsuki placed a hand on her shoulder, his glow flickering weakly.

Retsuki: It wasn't you. It was Pride.

Alitha: (Pulling away) No. It was me. It's always been me.

Her voice trembled, and for a moment, Marten looked as though he might speak, but he remained silent. The weight of the encounter pressed down on all of them.

Back at the Serkiuln hideout, the atmosphere was tense. The other resistance members sensed the shift in their leaders. Alitha avoided everyone's gaze, her mask abandoned for the first time. Marten sat in the corner, sharpening a blade with slow, deliberate strokes.

Mirthless: (Entering the room) What happened?

Retsuki: (Exhausted) Pride.

Mirthless stiffened, their mask betraying no emotion, but their voice was tight.

Mirthless: And you survived?

Marten: Barely.

Mirthless: (Turning to Alitha) And you?

Alitha didn't answer. The silence stretched, heavy and accusatory. Finally, she spoke, her voice brittle.

Alitha: I felt it. Pride. It was in me. It is in me.

The room erupted into whispers. Mirthless slammed a fist on the table, silencing them.

Mirthless: Enough! We've all felt it. That's the point. Pride feeds on what's already there. The only way to fight it is to admit it.

Retsuki: (Quietly). And if we can't?

Mirthless didn't answer. The silence was its kind of truth.

The encounter with Pride left its mark, not just on the trio but on the entire resistance. Factions began to form within Serkiuln, mistrust creeping in like a shadow. Every glance became a question, every silence an accusation. The masks returned, more grotesque than before, as members sought to hide their growing doubts.

Retsuki stood alone in the corner of the hideout, his glow faint. He stared at his reflection in a shattered piece of glass. For the first time, he wondered if Pride had been right.

Retsuki: (To himself) Am I just another weapon?

In the distance, the faint echo of Pride's laughter lingered, a haunting reminder of the battle they had barely survived.