Chapter 5: A Heart Divided

The air inside Serkiuln's hideout was suffocating, not from the physical confines of the crumbling walls but from the silence—the kind that crackled with unspoken fears. Shadows flickered across the room as a lone candle struggled against the draft, casting distorted shapes on the masked faces of the resistance members. The hideout, once a sanctuary, now felt more like a tomb.

Alitha sat on the cold floor, her mask discarded beside her. Her trembling hands traced the ridges of her scars, memories etched into her skin from her time as a Warden. The voices of Pride's whispers still lingered in her mind, parasitic and persistent.

Pride's Echo: (In her mind) You were strong. You were someone. Why trade power for this... insignificance?

She clutched her head, teeth clenched, fighting the rising tide of doubt. Her resolve, once unshakable, felt like sand slipping through her fingers. The sound of soft footsteps startled her. She looked up to see Retsuki, his glow dim but steady.

Retsuki: (Gently) You're not alone in this.

Alitha: (Bitterly) Aren't I? You're... gestures at him whatever you are. You don't understand what it's like to have your mind turned against you.

Retsuki knelt before her, his electric form casting faint light across her face.

Retsuki: (Quietly) Maybe not. But I know what it's like to question your purpose. I wonder if you're just a tool.

His words disarmed her. She looked away, her voice softening.

Alitha: (Barely audible) When I was a Warden, I believed in the Upbringers. I thought their order would save us. But all they did was take... and take. And when I finally saw the truth, I thought I could leave that behind. But Pride—Pride showed me that part of me is still... hers. The Warden. The enforcer.

Retsuki: (Firmly) That part of you survived. It doesn't define you.

Their eyes met a fragile understanding passing between them. For a moment, the tension lifted, and Alitha allowed herself to lean into his faint warmth—a connection she hadn't dared to seek in years. But the moment was fleeting.

The door creaked open, and Marten entered, his presence heavy. He glanced between them, his expression unreadable beneath his mask.

Marten: (Coldly) Don't.

Alitha pulled away from Retsuki, her face hardening. Retsuki rose to his feet, his glow intensifying slightly.

Retsuki: Don't what?

Marten: (Flatly) Don't let this happen. Attachments are dangerous. They make you predictable. Weak.

Retsuki: (Bristling) Caring about someone doesn't make you weak.

Marten: (Sharply) It does when the enemy can twist it against you. And the Upbringers will twist it. You've seen what Pride can do. Do you think love, loyalty, or whatever this is—gestures vaguely—can survive that?

His words cut deep, and the room fell silent. Alitha stood, her jaw tight.

Alitha: (Softly) I don't need you to remind me of my failures, Marten. I live with them every day.

Marten turned to her, his voice quieter but no less intense.

Marten: This isn't about failure. It's about survival. If you want to fight the Upbringers, you can't give them anything to use against you. Not your guilt, not your love. Nothing.

Later, as the hideout settled into uneasy quiet, Alitha retreated to the corner of the room where her Warden armor was hidden beneath a tattered sheet. She stared at the black and silver plating glinting faintly in the dim light. Memories flooded her—marching through the streets of Yorktun, the screams of those dragged away, the unshakable weight of her mask as she carried out orders.

Her fingers hovered over the armor, trembling. Pride's whispers stirred again, faint but insidious.

Pride's Echo: You were powerful. Respected. Why trade certainty for doubt?

She recoiled as if burned, her breathing quick and shallow. She turned away, only to find Retsuki standing behind her, his expression unreadable.

Retsuki: (Quietly) You don't have to fight this alone.

Alitha: (Snapping) Stop saying that. You don't get it. You weren't there. You didn't see what I—what I—

Her voice broke, and she sank to her knees, burying her face in her hands. Retsuki knelt beside her, his energy flickering faintly.

Retsuki: You're right. I wasn't there. But I'm here now. And I'm not leaving.

His words were simple, but they held a conviction that made her pause. Slowly, she lifted her head, her tear-streaked face etched with vulnerability.

In the following days, the tension within Serkiuln remained palpable. Alitha threw herself into training, her movements sharp and precise, as if trying to exorcise her doubts through sheer physicality. Marten watched her from the shadows, his expression unreadable.

Retsuki, meanwhile, struggled with his questions. Could he genuinely lead these people when he didn't fully understand their pain? Was he more than just Paragus's creation? The encounter with Pride had shaken something within him—a recognition of his limits.

One night, as the others slept, Retsuki stood by a broken window, gazing at the ruins of Yorktun. The city stretched before him, a labyrinth of shadows and despair. Alitha joined him silently, her presence grounding him.

Alitha: (Softly) We'll never be free of it, will we?

Retsuki: (After a long pause) Maybe not. But that doesn't mean we stop fighting.

Her lips curved into a faint, bitter smile.

Alitha: Spoken like a genuine spark.

Their shared moment of understanding was fleeting, but it was enough to carry them through the darkness for now.

Retsuki stood in the dimly lit center of the hideout, his voice low but steady, breaking the tense silence that had lingered since the confrontation with Pride.

Retsuki: "We're going to head out to the tunnels eventually. Where's Mirthless?"

Alitha and Marten exchanged uneasy glances. The shadows seemed to press closer as the name hung in the air, heavy and bitter. Mirthless, the enigmatic and volatile resistance member, was known for operating on the edge of reason. He was a genius—a tech savant who had designed many of Serkiuln's most essential devices—but he was also a liability. His mind, like the city above, was fractured.

Marten: (Coldly) Probably down in his hole. Where else?

Retsuki's energy crackled faintly as he absorbed Marten's tone.

Retsuki: (Firmly) We need him. If we take the tunnels, we can't do it without his knowledge.

Marten snorted, crossing his arms.

Marten: (Bitterly) You think he'll help after what happened last time?

Alitha: (Quietly, almost to herself) Pride's influence reaches further than we thought. Even underground, there's no escaping it.

The group descended into the lower levels of the hideout, a labyrinth of damp corridors and makeshift rooms carved into the earth. The air was thick with mildew and the faint hum of machinery. As they moved more profoundly, erratic tapping grew louder—a rhythmic clatter of metal on metal.

Alitha: (Whispering) He's working again. That's... a good sign.

Marten said nothing, his jaw tight. Retsuki pushed ahead, his light casting eerie shadows along the walls. The group entered a room cluttered with wires, half-assembled machines, and flickering monitors. In the center sat Mirthless, hunched over a glowing console. His face, pale and gaunt, was illuminated by the cold blue light of the screen. His eyes darted back and forth, unblinking, as his fingers moved with inhuman speed.

Retsuki: (Softly) Mirthless.

Mirthless didn't respond. His lips moved silently as if carrying on a conversation with someone—or something—that only he could hear. The group stepped closer, and Retsuki's presence finally drew his attention. Slowly, Mirthless turned his head, his sunken eyes meeting Retsuki's glow.

Mirthless: (Hoarsely) You shouldn't have brought them here.

Retsuki: (Calmly) We need your help. The tunnels—

Mirthless: (Snapping) The tunnels are dead! Dead like the rest of this city! Do you think you can use them? Do you think you can outsmart them?

He gestured wildly at the screens, which displayed fractured images of Wardens patrolling the streets, Pride's face flickering like a ghost in the static. His voice rose, tinged with hysteria.

Mirthless: They're everywhere. Watching. Listening. They're in me.

The group froze as Mirthless's voice dropped to a whisper, his hands trembling over the console.

Mirthless: (Quietly) Do you know what Pride does to a mind like mine? He feeds on it. It takes every doubt, every fear, and turns it into... something else.

Alitha stepped forward cautiously, her voice soft but firm.

Alitha: Mirthless, we've all felt it. But we can fight it. We are fighting it.

Mirthless laughed, a hollow, mirthless sound that sent chills through the room.

Mirthless: (Bitterly) You think you've escaped him? He's still in you, Warden. I can see it. Smell it. Pride doesn't let go. Not ever.

Alitha flinched as his words struck a nerve. Marten moved between them, his voice sharp.

Marten: (Angrily Enough). We didn't come here for your paranoid ramblings. Can you get us through the tunnels or not?

Mirthless's expression shifted, his eyes narrowing. He leaned closer to Marten, his voice a low hiss.

Mirthless: (Mockingly) Brave words, strategist. But tell me—how many of your plans failed because you couldn't see the strings? How many people died because you thought you were more intelligent than the system?

Marten's fist clenched, but before he could respond, Retsuki stepped forward, his energy surging faintly.

Retsuki: (Firmly) Enough. We don't have time for this.

The room fell silent, the weight of Retsuki's presence undeniable. Mirthless stared at him long before slumping back into his chair.

Mirthless: (Softly) You want the tunnels? Fine. But don't come crying to me when they collapse around you.

As they left Mirthless's lair, the tension among the group was palpable. Alitha lagged, her shoulders hunched, while Marten marched ahead, his movements stiff with anger. Retsuki lingered in the middle, his mind racing.

Alitha: (Quietly) He's right, you know.

Retsuki: (Turning to her) About what?

Alitha: (Bitterly) About me. About Pride.

She stopped walking, her voice breaking slightly.

Alitha: I can still feel it, Retsuki. That... pull. That voice told me I was better as a Warden. Stronger. More... certain.

Retsuki: (Gently) You're stronger now because you're fighting it.

Alitha: (Shaking her head) But for how long?

Before Retsuki could respond, Marten's voice cut through the air.

Marten: (Coldly) If you're going to fall apart, do it somewhere else. We don't have room for weakness.

Alitha's eyes flashed with anger, but she said nothing, her silence more damning than any words. Retsuki stepped between them, his energy crackling faintly.

Retsuki: (Sharply) That's enough.

Marten: (Flatly) No, it's not. Because if she breaks out there, we all die.

The group stared at one another, the fractures in their unity growing more profound with every passing moment. Above them, the city loomed, its shadows long and unrelenting.