Lucian

The dimly lit bar buzzed with conversation, punctuated by the clinking of glasses. Lucian leaned against the counter, a mischievous glimmer in his eyes, while Deron sat on a bar stool beside him.

"Lucian, did you really sell the guns to these bastards?" Deron's voice carried a note of concern, barely audible amidst the surrounding noise.

Lucian pressed a finger to his lips, urging Deron to lower his volume. With a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, he replied in a hushed tone, "Shush, Deron. Not so loud. And yes, I did sell the guns. I got ten thousand for that crap. Hehehe."

Deron looked at Lucian. He scanned him from head to toe. What he saw was a tall young man, white as chalk with a striking pair of dark grey eyes that sometimes seemed to change their shade. Jet black hair fell to his shoulders, framing his enigmatic features.

Taking a sip from his drink, Deron leaned closer, his voice tinged with worry. "If they discover that the guns are of poor quality, they won't hesitate to fill you with a thousand holes, my brother. Or do you think you're bulletproof?"

Lucians gaze remained fixed on his drink, as if the amber liquid held secrets that only it knew. With a shrug, he replied, "Maybe I am."

Derons expression hardened, a glimpse of concern flickering in his eyes. "Your actions will have consequences. You will see." With those final words, Deron rose from the bar stool and strode out.

Lucian sat there alone, examining his glass, as if searching for something in the light-yellow liquid inside. 'Why is that guy always so stressed?' Lucian thought. He didn't consider that it might be his fault.

As he examined his drink, seemingly lost in his thoughts, the bartender's voice cut through the bar's silence, "I hope you are going to pay for that friend of yours?". Lucian turned his attention to the bartender, flashing a reassuring smile. "Yeah, yeah, I will, don't worry about that, my dear friend," he calmed the bartender down. After some time, he placed a 50-euro bill near his unfinished drink and walked out of the establishment.

Leaving the warmth of the bar behind, Lucian stepped out into the dark and cold streets. Despite the chill in the air, he found something comforting in the coldness, that he loved so much. He began strolling down a dimly lit street, the familiar path from the bar to his apartment. Tonight, however, there was an eerie stillness that hung in the air.

As he continued his walk, a faint sound reached his ears—a desperate, rasping gasp for air. Lucian paused. The sound seemed to be coming from a narrow alley. Intrigued, he followed the source of the noise. As he stepped into the darkened alley, the scent of blood and 'misfortune' striked his senses. He saw a figure huddled against a grimy brick wall—a man, clutching his chest and struggling for breath. Lucian at once rushed towards the man's side and witnessed a grotesque wound on his chest. There, on the left side of his chest, where his heart was supposed to be, was a terrifying hole—a dark abyss framed by torn flesh and oozing blood. It appeared as if something had forced its way right through the man's chest.

"Okay, listen, old man. I will call for help. Just stay with me, all right? I don't know how the hell you've survived for so long with such a wound, but it doesn't matter now," Lucian said, trying to retrieve his phone when the man's hand reached out towards him.

"We have no time for this," the old man coughed, his voice strained. "Listen to me, Lucian. Your life—it's all just a play... cough, cough... Your whole existence is a 'show' designed to amuse someone I cannot name." Lucian stared at the man, a mix of disbelief and confusion painted on his face.

Lucian looked at the man, as if he was insane. He thought that maybe the man couldn't think straight because he was dying. 'But how does he know my name?' he wondered.

Ignoring the uncertainty in Lucian's eyes, the wounded man continued, "I find it unfair how... cough, cough... how your life is controlled by someone you don't even know exists." With a weak gesture, he extended his hand toward Lucian, pressing it against his chest. "I will make you immune to at least some of 'His' influence." As he did, a bright glow rose from Lucian's chest, illuminating the entire alley.

Lucian's first reaction was one of shock. "What the hell?" he exclaimed silently. The old man's fading words reached his ears. "Now... cough, cough.... if you do not wish to live a life where someone controls your every action then listen" the old man whispered, his life slowly fading away from him.

Lucian, still not understanding what was happening just nodded in response, realizing that the old man's insanity might not be the most plausible explanation, especially given the light emitting from his chest.

"You must seek out the twelve divine weapons... no, no... ahhhhh... not now," the old man grunted, his strength waning. Lucian held the dying man in his hands, pleading, "Hey, hey, don't die now. Explain yourself. What divine weapons? What 'play'?" His eyes scanned the man, desperate for answers. "Stop dying, for fuck's sake.", he cried out loud.

Summoning his last ounce of strength, the man spoke with urgency, "Find Rune. She will..." Before he could finish his sentence, his eyes ignited in flames, accompanied by billowing black smoke pouring out from his mouth. Lucian's grip loosened involuntarily as unbearable heat radiated from the man's body.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" the old man screamed in agony, his body consumed by a storm of flames.

Lucians eyes widened with unimaginable fear as he watched the old man burn to his death, accompanied with his bloodcurdling screams.

"What... what is happening...." Lucian gasped, his breath coming in heavy bursts, his body trembling as he slowly retreated from the burning corpse

Step... Step... Step

Lucians gaze darted upward, his heart pounding in his chest. In the darkness, he discerned a shadowy figure moving among the other shadows, blending seamlessly with the pitch-black surroundings. The light coming from his chest had already dimmed, leaving him with no source of light what so ever

A haunting melody filled the air, sung by the shadowy presence that approached Lucian with deliberate, measured steps. The words sent shivers down his spine, "...The night is dark and full of terrors..."

Lucians steps continued to falter as he involuntarily moved backward, his mind racing with questions and fear, uncertain of the imminent danger that loomed ahead.