Sinners

In a dark, desolate room, where the only sounds were the chattering of teeth and the distant weeping of others, Elliot lay on the cold stone floor, drenched in sweat. His pupils remained wide open, though this time, it was from the overwhelming darkness. The stench in the air was suffocating—a mixture of burnt flesh and rotting remains that had decayed for weeks. As Elliot moved, his hand brushed against something hard, then something soft, crawling creatures—maggots. It was a pit of skeletons and flesh-bound husks, their souls long departed. Piles upon piles, but too dark to discern any details.

The room stretched endlessly, cold stone walls surrounding him like a medieval prison. His mind raced. What happened? I was just with Pillar, my money... I was on my way to Edwin and Samantha. How did I end up here?!

Elliot trembled, his clothes soaked with blood—both red and blue. He could hear the sounds of others, similarly trapped in cells scattered across the room. A chilling breeze blew through every few seconds, cutting through the oppressive silence, broken only by the faint sobs and the sound of chattering teeth.

Creaaak!

Suddenly, a door creaked open. The orange-yellow glow of an oil lamp pierced the suffocating darkness, casting a faint light across the room. A figure stepped through the doorway—a woman, strikingly beautiful with an eccentric air. She had blue hair, smooth skin, and wore a tight, elegant blue dress.

Elliot's pupils dilated further, struggling to adjust to the sudden brightness. Who is she? he wondered. As his vision cleared, he saw the woman's cyan eyes gleam in the dim light, her pupils completely gone. The living prisoners, driven mad with hunger and desperation, lunged forward, their heads poking through the bars of their cells, trying to reach her.

They all screamed in unison, a collective cry of desperation. "Please, let me out! Let me go with you! I beg you!"

What is this madness? Elliot thought, his mind swirling. He was surrounded by those howling, their faces contorted in hunger. He watched as one man next to him stretched out a hand, his voice hoarse with need. "Let me sit on your lap! Please, I can't live without you!"

Others joined in, their cries overlapping as they fought to get closer to the woman. No! She's mine! You filthy animal, get away!

The woman, her cyan eyes gleaming with amusement, raised a finger to her lips. "My, what impatient little creatures you are. Do you really want to be with me so badly?" she mused aloud.

The prisoners, including Elliot, nodded eagerly, their voices a chorus of pleading. "Yes! Yes! Please, let us come to you!"

With a playful smile, the woman began to count aloud, "One, two, three... and you will come with me." Her lips curved into a smile that seemed far too perfect, too detached from the desperation around her.

The hunger in the room intensified. One prisoner, overcome with desire, reached desperately for the woman, his eyes gleaming with the madness of a starved animal. He was the first to break through the frenzied cries, and he ran toward her, arms outstretched. His words, like a prayer, spilled from his mouth, "I'll die for you! Please, take me!"

Crack!

The sudden, grotesque sound of breaking bones shattered the air. The man's neck twisted at an impossible angle, and before Elliot's eyes, his head flew from his shoulders, hurtling straight toward him. Blue blood sprayed over Elliot's face, coating him in the mess. A sickening lump formed on his forehead from the impact of the head, and the man's neck left purple bruises from where it slammed into the bars of his cell.

But Elliot smiled. A twisted, giddy smile.

Yes! He's dead! Finally! Elliot thought, his mouth now stained with blue blood. Yes! Yes! Thank you! Thank you so much!

Creaaak!

The door slammed shut, and the woman's presence vanished, leaving only the lingering cries and chattering teeth. Elliot's pupils shrank back to normal as the light from the door faded, leaving only the oppressive darkness. But it was not the same darkness as before. It now seemed colder, heavier, as though the very air had become suffocating.

The silence returned with a vengeance, broken only by the distant sobs and the occasional sharp sound of chattering teeth. The others who had not been chosen, including Elliot, were left in an unbearable void of yearning and fear. But Elliot's gaze fell upon something in the corner of his cell, something that made his stomach turn. He couldn't make out the details clearly, but he could see the shape of a head, its eyes wide open. Blue blood streamed from its skull, pooling on the ground beneath it. The eyes rolled upward, an eerie grin on the face of the corpse.

Elliot recoiled, a chill running down his spine.

Then, as quickly as the sight had appeared, it was gone. And he was left in the dark once more.

…

In the dark void, Elliot took a deep breath. His eyes opened wide for a moment, then closed as he tried to steady himself. What is happening? His thoughts were a whirlwind of confusion and anger. What the hell is going on here?

But as the darkness seemed to stretch endlessly around him, he noticed something—there was a faint yellow glow in the distance, pushing through the darkness. A light? he thought, almost disbelieving.

He moved toward it, hands trembling, but with an oddly optimistic resolve. The yellow light felt warm, like the promise of something better. The blue light flickered faintly in the distance, and the green flame seemed to dance weakly.

Elliot placed his hand on the rough, yellow stone, and with a sharp gust of wind, the room was filled with more light. He shielded his eyes with his other hand as the wind swirled around him.

…

On the continent of the Violet Seas, amidst a battlefield where the yellow and violet forces clashed in an endless struggle, the Imperial Base 2456 stood firm, its iron walls standing in the face of relentless warfare.

Fynn sat on a medium-sized stone, his legs dangling freely in the air. His left leg swung slightly, less vigorously than his right.

"You know, kid, if you were of a lesser bloodline than ours, you'd probably have been dead by now. A few more days, maybe weeks, and you'd have been out of the picture," Algar, a burly man with long blond hair and the rugged appearance of a Viking, said, laughing heartily.

"Then I wouldn't be in such bad shape," Fynn replied, his voice low.

"Oh, 'bad shape'? These are badges of honor from the battlefield! Not many can proudly walk around with just one eye, here on the Violet Seas!" Algar grinned, his laughter echoing through the tense air. Fynn's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing.

"Elliot," he muttered under his breath, glancing briefly at the conversation unfolding before him. So he's okay now…

Algar continued, his tone now serious. "I've heard you're wise, without a state rank."

"That's true. My parents ran away when I was young, left me behind at Base 2462. I never had a chance to get registered... without their status, I was just... alone." Fynn's words hung heavy in the air.

Algar studied him for a moment before running a hand through his thick Viking beard. "Kid, how would you like to join my family? My daughter needs to marry soon, and for my taste, you'd be perfect for her. I'd trust you with her."

Fynn froze, his face going pale. "Marry your daughter...? Algar, I'm not the right one. Look at me—my eye, my leg. I'm not even pretty."

Algar laughed loudly, shaking his head. "Kid, you're more than perfect for her, especially after what you just said. So, what do you say? Want to join the Astor family? I must tell you, I am a part of the Astor family," Fynn's legs and voice trembled even more.

"Astor...? The Astor family? The one of the three high-ranking families that oversee the Titans and the Asphanium, the Astor family?" Algar nodded, a grim smile tugging at his lips. Fynn's face turned pale once again, and after a long pause, he finally uttered, "Yes." Algar lightly slapped Fynn's injured leg. "Then from this moment, your name will be Fynn Astor." Fynn's vision blurred, the light swallowed by the endless abyss of darkness, a profound emptiness.

…

Fring Street 95, headquarters of the Blue Sharks.

Three figures—William, Elisia, and Elton—sat across from one another. Chris was on another mission, one dealing with the disappearance of several men. Elisia sighed deeply, her dark blonde hair falling behind her ears. "Elliot has disappeared too. By the Nine Gods... What does all of this mean? This V... This man with the violet eyes who defeated him. Bill... I thought it was over already, but no. Instead, it all starts again, and now it's Elliot's turn."

A heavy silence descended over the room, the walls painted blue by the light of the setting sun. The wind outside howled, brushing against the windows. Elton lowered his gaze to his knees, while William slammed his fist onto the table. "We can't lose another one of us—not like we lost Bill or Simon. Not in this way..."

…

In the dark dungeons, somewhere beneath the earth.

"It's time. We need another sacrifice, Y." A small man spoke, barely reaching 1.50 meters. His humped back overshadowed his wrinkled face, with a long nose and hair as blue as the shade on his scalp. It was mostly gray, his hair receding almost to the point of baldness. "Of course, Father," a woman replied elegantly, holding an oil lamp in her left hand as she walked through the lightless dungeon.

Elliot, along with the other prisoners, began to stir. Their pupils dilated, their bodies growing in size as their minds awakened. The other prisoners, except for the old man and the woman, began to rattle their cages, clanging against the bars that separated them. They screamed like wild animals. "Let me to you! I can't live without you! My life is meaningless without you!" Some of them wept, overwhelmed with sorrow. Others screamed out of envy. And some remained silent, holding on to hope.

The cells began to open, while others remained locked. Elliot was one of the fortunate ones whose cell was opened. Yes, yes! My prayers have been heard! Praise the Nine Gods, no... Praise the Goddess of Blue! Elliot's face contorted in a disturbing expression, tears streaming down his cheeks. "Thank you, thank you. I love you." He rushed out of the cell, his knees trembling. The woman, Y, walked ahead of him, with the old man following closely behind. She made a Y with her fingers, forming a straight line, like a pair of scissors closing. But instead of cutting paper, blue blood sprayed from the side, splattering across the prisoners, including Elliot.

"Y, do not go with them unless there is use for you. They too are scarce as a resource." It was the blood of a man—decapitated, his head flying off like the cork of a wine bottle. Yet, all those following the two blue-haired figures laughed, their eyes glued to the elegant body of the woman.

"This vermin should not receive the mercy of the Goddess of Blue." The old man shook his head. "Sinners are sinners. Yet, in death, they are all the same. They should be granted the opportunity to wash away their sins. Y, my youngest. You still have much to learn."

The old man glanced forward while the woman looked down, her luscious blue lips twitching. Elliot and the others hurried after them, passing by the corpse of the man whose head had exploded. They entered the warm orange-yellow light, but the atmosphere of the room shifted as quickly as the temperature. It grew cold—eerily cold, tinted in blue. But, oddly enough, it wasn't cold—it was too warm.

"Children," the elegant woman spoke, her voice smooth yet chilling, "your sins will be washed away. But first, you must repent and suffer for the Goddess of Blue. Only then will you be permitted to die and enter the Palace of Blue."

Her hands were raised, forming a Y with her fingers, her posture striking and regal. Her eyes shone with a cyan light, her voice a soft command. "Surrender yourselves to the will of the Goddess of Blue!"

With a final cry, she offered a gentle smile, a flame igniting—blue as the sun. The room grew unbearably hot, the temperature rising, reaching unbearable levels. In an instant, the prisoners' nails began to melt, their skin dissolving into nothingness. Flesh over veins and organs, their eyes wide, pupils stretching across the entire eye, turning into pitch-black voids.

In a room that was once clean, five men stood. Each was without skin, their bodies hairless, their faces scorched. They appeared identical, their only difference being their physique and size. The only distinction between Elliot and the others was that his body had turned red, while the others remained blue.

They stood silently, the flames gone, their black eyes fixed upon the elegant woman. Their mouths stretched wide, the grin so large it seemed to split their faces, their teeth bared like a grotesque grin. Blood sprayed from their bodies, yet they all smiled—no, they laughed, their hunger for something far darker than life itself was evident in their eyes.

Y spoke, her blue nail resting upon her full, blue lips. "Well, that was the appetizer."