Crew Mission (Part One)

Vi landed softly on the damp cobblestones behind Rash and Cly, hurriedly moving out of view behind a brick wall as figures passed swiftly above them.

"Let´s go," Cly said, and Vi slipped forward quietly, senses alert. She crouched ahead, then motioned back at the others, who immediately followed. They walked quickly and then turned right into a narrow alleyway, still watching out as they made their way through the dirty street.

Rash scowled. "I feel like we could´ve avoided coming down here," he said. 

"Not if we want to avoid being seen," Cly answered. Security was the weakest in Sector Twelve, where the attack had happened a few years ago. The area was mostly left abandoned by the Monarch. The Downers were now stationed immediately outside Sector Eleven, adjacent to this area, while Prowlers circled Twelve at all times. They believed that there could still be Ghouls lurking around. Hiding. Watching. Waiting. 

"Seen by whom?"

"But they´re still here, aren´t they," said Cly. Vi reluctantly agreed. The Ghouls were monsters from above, the Monarch had assured his people after the attack. Nobody knew anything about them, except they were powerful, even more so than the Prowlers. 

Vi suddenly stopped.

"Besides, they´re not who we´re hiding from. The king´s damn minions are at work all around the city . . . and Vi, what´s wrong? Having another panic attack?" he snorted, but she looked unfazed.

She felt the air tighten gradually, the atmosphere getting stronger and stronger all around. The night was dark, hardly any streetlights still worked, and the mists were hard to notice. But they were there nonetheless. 

"How long did you say we still have to go?" Vi asked Cly. 

"Not long. We´ll break in, take what we want, and leave the sector before sunrise."

Vi shook her head, glancing around in the darkness. "Let´s go back now."

"Why?" Cly snapped, and she jumped, getting startled. 

"Ghoul activity," she said meekly. 

"But you just said-"

"The mists are getting thicker, just like that day."

Cly shook his head and sighed in anger. "Not that again . . ." He turned around, hand to his face, but then turned back again. He walked to Vi with a grim expression and lifted a finger to the middle of Vi´s chest. "You," he said almost threateningly, "not a word anymore." Cly stared down at her, her face strangely determined, although her eyes darted around. 

"Don´t forget. You´re here to keep us hidden. That´s it. And if we get caught, Trap will be after your head. Understand?" Cly´s grip grew tight around her shoulders, his fingers nearly piercing her skin. She gasped in pain, but then suddenly bent down and swiped her feet against his along the floor, making him topple and fall hard on his back. He released her at once. 

"You!" he shouted angrily, but then they heard something else disturb the silence. Footsteps. 

At the very far end of the dark alleyway, they saw the silhouette of another person. Smaller than normal. 

Cannot be a Prowler, Vi thought. It´s smaller than me. A child? What would a child be doing in the most dangerous sector of Arnem? 

Terrified and confused, Vi used some of her Tech. 

The figure stood there momentarily as if staring right past the three thieves. Then, in the blink of an eye, it turned and ran away past the illuminated gap and out of view. 

"I´ll be damned," Rash whispered. "That was a kid, right? A kid? Here?"

"Let´s just get this done and leave this place," Cly said. They did not have time to think about the child. They had to worry about the Ghouls. And the Prowlers. And the job. 

Vi did not object further, as she felt it was useless to argue with Cly anyway. The three of them quickened their pace, sneaking through a couple more streets, crouching and avoiding being seen. Eventually, they reached a small but well-constructed house at the far end of the sector, along the small underground river called Tiamat, that ran along the eastern border of Arnem. 

The place looked gaunt but rich, compared to the houses they´d seen on their whole way through the sector. Where other homes were mere cubes of cheap stone, this one loomed, with smoother walls and richly painted glass windows. 

"Here," Cly said. 

Rash rushed and picked the lock open, while Vi and Cly looked around for signs of trouble. Soon, a soft "click" announced that they were successful. "Quick," he said, allowing Cly and the girl to go in before him.

The house hummed with eerie energy, and they quickly made their way into a vast room filled with shelves stacked with glass containers, strange devices whirring softly in the background. Books covered every surface, but not the kind of books Vi was used to seeing. These were filled with symbols she couldn’t even begin to understand, maps of shiny dots called "stars" and diagrams of machines with joints and appendages that mimicked creatures from the depths of her nightmares.

Vi moved toward a table at the center, where strange metal spheres lay half-opened, revealing intricate gears and glowing, spinning cores. “What is all this?” she wondered. Her fingers hovered over the device, but something in the air felt off, almost oppressive, like they were being watched. Nonetheless, she grabbed a small bag on the side. She peeked inside and saw golden-yellow stones glinting. As she took one and examined it between her fingers, Cly came up behind her. They exchanged a quick look and he nodded, looking at the bag of stones. 

“Let’s grab what we can and go,” Cly said, but his voice wavered.

As they stuffed bags with various pieces of tech, a sharp sound cut through the silence. Vi froze, her eyes darting toward Rash, who stood by the doorway, his back stiff, his hand gripping the hilt of his knife in an unsettling way.

“What are you doing?” Vi asked, her voice tense.

Rash turned slowly, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I’m doing what I need to survive.”

Before Vi could react, he pushed the door open. The cold night air rushed inward, and with it came the low, menacing growl of the Prowlers- the Monarch’s enforcers. They stepped out of the shadows, their dark cloaks absorbing the faint glow of the street lamps, obsidian weapons at the ready.