chapter 53: The Black Path A Choice Made

Chapter 53: The Black Path

A Choice Made

Rin's fingers twitched on the hilt of his dagger. The man before him—tall, poised, unreadable—waited with an extended hand, his dark coat barely shifting despite the dust-filled air. Explosions rumbled overhead. The Voz mercenaries were still searching. Time was slipping away.

Hudson shifted beside him, wary. "Kid, you sure about this?"

No. He wasn't. But staying wasn't an option.

Rin stepped forward. "Lead the way."

Lazarus Vale—if that was his real name—smirked, dropping his hand. "Good choice."

The old iron door groaned as they pushed through, revealing the abandoned underground railway. Tracks stretched into darkness, barely visible under the dim emergency lights flickering along the walls. The air smelled of rust and mildew, a ghost of a forgotten past.

They moved quickly, their footsteps swallowed by the vastness of the tunnel. Rin kept his guard up, his body tense with the pain of his wounds. Hudson trailed behind, muttering complaints but staying close. Lazarus walked ahead, silent, his posture relaxed but aware.

After a few minutes, Hudson spoke. "So, Lazarus—if that's your name—mind telling us where we're going?"

Lazarus didn't turn. "Somewhere safer than here."

"That's not an answer."

"It's the only one you'll get for now."

Rin frowned. The man spoke like someone used to being in control. Calculated. Deliberate. But something about his tone felt less like arrogance and more like… certainty.

That made Rin uneasy.

Minutes passed in silence. But Rin's instincts prickled. The air had shifted. A presence lurked in the dark, moving just beyond their vision.

Then—

A whisper of fabric. The faintest scuff of boots on stone.

Rin spun, barely dodging the knife that slashed where his throat had been. The assassin melted from the darkness, masked, moving like a phantom.

Hudson swore, drawing his pistol, but two more figures darted from the shadows.

Lazarus sighed. "Of course."

He moved.

A blur. A silver arc.

His sword sliced through the air, severing one assassin's tendons before they could react. The second leaped back, but Lazarus was faster, pivoting smoothly and ramming the hilt of his blade into their ribs. The impact sent them crashing into the wall.

Hudson fired twice, forcing another attacker back. Rin lunged at the nearest one, deflecting their strike with his dagger before driving his knee into their stomach. They stumbled—just long enough for Rin to slash across their chest.

The assassins didn't scream. Didn't falter.

They weren't here to kill.

They were watching him.

That realization sent a chill down Rin's spine.

Then, just as quickly as they came, the masked figures retreated, vanishing into the tunnel's depths.

Lazarus exhaled, wiping his blade clean. "Persistent."

Hudson scowled. "You wanna explain what the hell that was?"

Lazarus turned to Rin. "They were testing you."

Rin narrowed his eyes. "Who are they?"

Lazarus met his gaze. "The Seven Crowns."

The name sent a ripple through Rin's thoughts. He had never heard it before.

But the way Lazarus said it—the weight in his voice—meant he should have.

Hudson crossed his arms. "Never heard of them."

"You wouldn't have," Lazarus replied. "They don't belong to the underworld you know. Not the Voz. Not the Balotelli. The Seven Crowns rule from the dark, pulling strings even the most powerful fear."

Rin frowned. "And what do they want with me?"

Lazarus smirked. "Not dead, apparently."

That wasn't comforting.

The tunnel led them deeper, until they reached an old security checkpoint. The remnants of a Voz outpost, long abandoned. Lazarus pushed open a rusted metal door, revealing a small but intact control room.

"You're safe here," he said. "For now."

Rin leaned against the wall, exhaling. His wounds burned, his body demanding rest. Hudson dug through an old cabinet, finding a half-used med kit. He tossed it to Rin.

"Patch yourself up. You're still bleeding all over the damn place."

Rin didn't argue. As he worked, he watched Lazarus. The man was too calm. Too prepared.

"You knew we'd be attacked," Rin said.

Lazarus met his gaze. "I suspected."

Hudson scoffed. "Great. Love working with cryptic bastards."

Lazarus ignored him, turning to Rin. "You don't understand your place in this yet."

Rin tensed. "Then explain it."

Lazarus exhaled, studying him. Then he said something that made Rin's blood run cold.

"The Shirairyu weren't wiped out by accident."

Silence.

Rin's breath hitched.

Lazarus continued, voice low. "You're not just some kid trying to claw his way back to Sky City. You're a piece on a board much bigger than you realize."

Rin's hand clenched. He had spent his life fighting to survive. Pushing forward without understanding why the world seemed determined to bury him.

Now, someone was telling him it was planned?

He gritted his teeth. "Who's pulling the strings?"

Lazarus tilted his head. "You already know."

Rin's mind flashed back—to the masked man who took everything from him. The one who killed his mother.

Zord.

Lazarus studied him, then smirked. "Now you're starting to get it."

Before Rin could press further, a distant explosion rumbled from above.

Hudson sighed. "City's still on fire. Great."

Rin exhaled sharply. He had learned enough for now. But there was one thing left to do.

It was time to report to his teammates.

He grabbed the old comm device from his pocket, turning it on.

Static. Then—

Engine's voice crackled through. "Rin?"

Rin exhaled. "I'm alive."

A pause. Then—

Engine chuckled. "About damn time."

Rin glanced at Lazarus. The pieces were moving. And he was in the center of it.

For better or worse.

To be continued.