Chapter 5: Dust, Lies, and Loyalty

The sword had gone cold. Wrapped carefully in old cloth, it now lay in the bottom of Zayn’s tactical bag like a sleeping secret—dull, rusted, heavy. They didn’t speak of it as they climbed out of the darkened cave. Not yet. The silence said enough. The sky above had turned a strange amber-grey as they emerged—Olcor's version of morning. The sunlight here was tired. No warmth. No chirping birds. Just the low howl of cold winds sliding between cracked mountains and scorched trees. Riven slung his weapon across his back and took point. Nyra walked behind them, unusually quiet, her black cloak dragging dust across the gravel trail as if she left behind a piece of night itself. They had barely reached the ridgeline when Zayn’s comm-ball vibrated. A soft red pulse. Then blue. Then the hologram bloomed in mid-air, spinning open with a hissing thumf like a wounded machine gasping its last breath. A towering figure emerged—cloaked in obsidian armor, his mouth a scar, his eyes like smoldering coals set in stone. Chief Procas. “Status,” he growled, not bothering with greetings. All five straightened immediately. Like instinct. Like programming. “We scouted the northern ruins as instructed,” Zayn said, voice clipped. “Found one human, sir. Fragile. Died before we could extract him.” There was a long pause. The Chief’s eyes narrowed into slits. “Where is the body?” Zayn hesitated for half a second. Everyone turned to Lilu. She blinked, then smiled sweetly and shrugged. “He’s… um… with the dust now, Chief.” “What?” The Chief’s voice was razor-edged. “Be specific.” “Well, he sort of turned into dust when I packed him in my bag. Accidentally,” she added quickly, like that would help. The Chief’s hollow glare shifted from Zayn… to Lilu… to Nyra. “Did you recover anything else from the site?” “No,” Lilu opened her mouth— “Nothing of importance,” Zayn interrupted sharply, stepping forward. A beat of silence. Even through hologram distortion, Procas’s suspicion was thick. His glowing eyes locked onto Zayn. “You’re lying.” It wasn’t a question. “Return to base immediately. I’m dispatching drones for extraction. That temple holds secrets. If you touched anything, I will know.” The hologram glitched and vanished with a cold snap. The five stood motionless for a breath, the wind curling around them like a waiting predator. Then Riven spoke. “What the hell was that, Zayn?” “He doesn’t know what’s there,” Zayn replied, already walking toward a boulder to take cover behind. “He suspects something, but he doesn’t know.” Kael stepped forward, anger rising. “You shut her down fast. Why?” “Because,” Zayn said, turning, “I have connections in the Black Rings of the Second Realm. That sword’s worth more than every contract we’ve pulled in the last five years. You think Procas won’t sell it out to Rashkaa’s dogs the second he finds it?” Lilu gasped. “You're going to sell it?” “No,” Zayn said. “We are going to keep it. Together. No one speaks of it. Not to Procas. Not to anyone.” Nyra said nothing. She simply walked to the edge of the cliff and stared into the grey horizon, her long hair catching ash like the wind carried memory. Riven scoffed. “We’re bounty hunters, not relic smugglers.” “We’re survivors,” Zayn corrected. “That blade is ours. We found it. It chose us—Nyra. And now we protect it.” Kael crossed his arms. “He’ll know we’re lying.” “Then let him,” Zayn said. “He needs us. We’ve delivered every target, kept every mission clean. He won’t burn us yet.” Lilu looked down at her dusty boots, eyes darting between the others. “We’re still a family, right?” There was a moment of silence. Something softened in Riven’s usually hardened jaw. Kael nodded. “Family.” Nyra finally turned back. Her voice was low, but steady. “If he comes for the sword… we fight.” Zayn exhaled, quietly proud. “Then it’s settled.” They descended the ridge again, the light fading further. The air thinned. No birds. No movement. The temple loomed behind them like a grave they hadn’t yet buried. It was too dark to travel far. So they made camp in the ruins again—this time in silence. Zayn cleaned his weapons while Riven kept watch near the crumbled altar. Kael stood under the archway, smoking a quiet roll of dried duskleaf. Lilu lay on her side, tracing the sword’s cloth-wrapped shape in the bag beside her. And Nyra… Nyra sharpened a blade that was already sharp, eyes half-shut, heart listening to something none of them could hear. In the shadows, the mountain moaned. And far, far beneath the surface of the earth, the sword pulsed once—soft, alive, waiting.