ã€ŠCalamity Muse [LitRPG, Dark Fantasy, Steampunk, Villainess]ã€‹


 Prologue

    [The screen flickers to life, revealing a news studio. The camera zooms in on a well-dressed reporter, Alex Martin, standing in front of a large, vibrant concert stage inside an open stadium, now eerily quiet and empty. The reporter seems both shocked and excited, a mix of disbelief and enthusiasm in his voice. The banner at the bottom of the screen reads: "Breaking News: Rock Legend Aubrey Vanishes in Triple Lightning Strike During Concert."]

    Reporter: "Good evening, everyone. This is Alex Martin, reporting live from the Grand Arena, where just hours ago, an event unfolded that has left the world in utter disbelief. Fans here tonight witnessed what can only be described as a blend of a rock concert, a meteorological anomaly, and a fantasy novel all rolled into one.

    We''re talking, of course, about Aubrey, the global rock and punk sensation known for her electrifying performances. But tonight, ''electrifying'' took on a whole new meaning. During the climax of her world tour, right here on this stage behind me, something unprecedented happened."

    [The screen splits, showing footage of Aubrey on stage, mid-performance, her energy infectious, the crowd in a frenzy.]

    Reporter: "As Aubrey, clad in her signature leather and neon, struck a powerful pose at the apex of her hit song''s chorus, the unthinkable occurred. In a dramatic twist straight out of a special effects playbook, she was struck by lightning. Not once, not twice, but three times in rapid succession."

    [The footage shows the moment of the lightning strikes, each illuminating Aubrey in a blinding flash of light, the crowd gasping and screaming.]

    Reporter: "The crowd, initially thinking it part of the show''s pyrotechnics, soon realized this was no planned spectacle. The air was charged with confusion and panic as the stage went dark, and when the lights came back on, Aubrey... was nowhere to be seen.

    Initial reports suggested a tragic accident, but as investigators and emergency services rushed to the scene, they found no trace of the singer. No signs of burns, no remnants of her iconic outfit ¨C nothing. It''s as if she vanished into thin air at the moment of the strikes."

    [The screen shows a series of tweets and social media posts from fans, ranging from wild theories to concerns for Aubrey¡¯s safety.]

    Reporter: "Conspiracy theories are already swirling on social media. Some claim it was an elaborate stunt, a disappearance act to end her tour with a bang. Others are delving into more fantastical explanations, drawing parallels to stories where people are transported to other worlds. Of course, these are just theories, but in the absence of logical explanations, imagination runs wild."

    This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    [The screen shifts to show interviews with various fans, some tearful, others in disbelief.]

    Fan #1: "It was like something out of a movie, unreal. One moment she¡¯s there, rocking the world, and the next ¨C poof ¨C gone."

    Fan #2: "She¡¯s a legend, man. If anyone could ride a lightning bolt to another dimension, it¡¯s Aubrey."

    Fan #3: "I hope she''s okay, wherever she is. She''s too young to disappear forever."

    Fan #4: "I''m sure this is all part of her master plan. Just you wait ¨C she''ll reappear when we least expect it, and it''ll be epic."

    Fan #5: "So... I guess we can add ''Gods of Rock'' to the list of genres she defies."

    Perverted Fan: "They should call her ''Thunder Thighs.'' Damn, that outfit looked amazing on her!"

    Degenerate Heckler: "Wherever you are, Aubrey, give us a little shake so we know you''re okay!"

    Annoying Squealing Fangirl: "Omigodomigodomigod! AUBREYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!"

    Unfazed Producer: "Damn it, how are we going to recover from this PR nightmare? We''ve got press conferences to handle, lawsuits to deal with...hey, get that camera off of m¨C"

    Isekai Enthusiast: "Nooo! Aubrey! It should¡¯ve been me! REEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!"

    Author: "Yeah, I could''ve used Truck-kun, but he''s booked til the Isekai genre finally falls out of trend."

    [The camera returns to the reporter.]

    Reporter: "What we do know is that Aubrey, a singer who captured the hearts of millions with her rebel spirit and powerhouse vocals, has become the center of a global mystery. Fans worldwide are holding vigils, singing her songs, hoping for any news of her whereabouts.

    As we stand here at the now-empty Grand Arena, it''s hard not to feel a sense of awe and wonder. Was this a freak act of nature? A planned disappearance? Or something more... otherworldly? The questions are many, the answers few.

    This is Alex Martin, signing off, but the story of Aubrey ¨C the punk rock icon who lit up the world and then seemingly left it in a flash of light ¨C is far from over. Stay tuned as we continue to follow this astonishing story."

 Chapter 1: Gravedigger

    Darkness¡ªcrushing, suffocating darkness. Then, a spark¡ªa flicker of consciousness igniting in the void.

    Where? What?

    Fragmented thoughts, like shattered glass, pierced her mind, sharp and disjointed. A stage... lights... the roar of a crowd... then nothing.

    Her body felt heavy, sluggish¡ªas though she''d been asleep for years. She blinked, but there was no difference¡ªthe darkness remained. Memories swam through her foggy mind, but they made no sense. A name. Aubrey. That was her, she realized. But who?

    She moved her arms, pushing against the weight of something. Her fingers scraped against something hard¡ªwood. Her legs kicked, and she felt the same resistance.

    Panic surged within her. Was she in a box? A coffin?

    Her chest heaved, a desperate gasp for air that wasn''t there. Her hands flew to her mouth, trying to block the scream building in her throat. Her fingers scraped against soft satin¡ªa shroud, she realized. She pulled it away, tearing at it in a blind panic.

    Air. She needed air. Her lungs burned, her vision blurred, and she lashed out wildly. Splinters tore at her skin as she pounded against the wood with her fists.

    Cracking, snapping¡ªsounds of wood giving way. With one final, desperate thrust, she broke through, splintering into the oppressive earth above.

    Dirt cascaded in, choking and cloying.

    She coughed, sputtering, but continued to claw her way up¡ªto where, she didn''t know. Anywhere had to be better than here. She writhed, struggling through the narrow opening she''d created.

    Can''t... breathe... need to get out!

    The earth clawed back, greedy fingers trying to drag her down. But the burning in her lungs, the raw need for air, drove her on.

    Gasping¡ªclawing¡ªthe earth gave way under desperate fingers which bled, unseen in the blackness, but she pressed on. The taste of dirt filled her mouth, gritty and bitter, as she scrabbled through the soil.

    Something brushed against her¡ªa root, maybe, or a worm. She shrieked, the sound muffled by the dirt clogging her mouth, and kept going.

    Cold, damp soil yielded under her frantic hands, and then¡ªher hand broke through the surface, grasping at the cool night air.

    She heaved herself up, clawing desperately, until her head emerged from the grave.

    The sweet, clear air of night washed over her face, and she gasped, sucking in huge, ragged breaths.

    She stumbled out of the dirt, her movements clumsy, her body feeling foreign and unwieldy.

    The moon cast a ghostly pallor over the graveyard, its light filtering through the gnarled branches of misshapen trees, casting eerie shadows that danced upon the rows of ornate tombstones.

    Why was I... in a grave? How did I...?

    Disorientation and confusion swirled in her mind. A rush of sensations hit her all at once¡ªthe touch of the wind against her skin, the smell of the earth, the rustle of leaves in the trees.

    Her legs trembled, buckling under her weight, and she sank to the ground, her head spinning.

    Lying on the cold earth, her breathing slowly returned to normal, but the panic had yet to subside. She lay still, waiting for her racing heart to slow, taking in deep lungfuls of fresh air. Gradually, awareness trickled back in, and her gaze shifted to take in her surroundings.

    A cemetery loomed around her, a silent witness to her macabre rebirth. An ornate mausoleum stood nearby, its crumbling fa?ade blanketed with dark moss. Ivy snaked up the walls, twining around the marble columns, choking the life from the stone.

    An owl hooted somewhere nearby, a lonely sound.

    Why am I here? How did I get here?

    She struggled to put the pieces together, but it was as if her memory was shrouded in fog. Names and images flickered in her mind, but nothing that made sense. Her hands shook, scattering clods of dirt as she ran them over her face and through her hair. The clumps fell to the ground, raining into the hole she''d just escaped.

    As the terror receded, clarity slowly returned, and her body began to feel more familiar. She raised a hand before her eyes, watching as she flexed her fingers, almost as if to reassure herself that they belonged to her.

    Yes. They were her own, though her skin seemed paler somehow, devoid of warmth. Her nails, long and sharp, glinted in the moonlight.

    Tentatively, she rose to her feet, testing her strength. It took a few steps to find her balance, but she managed to stay upright.

    Her clothes, tattered and dirty, hung loosely on her slender frame. She glanced down, noticing for the first time the sheer, lacy gown she wore¡ªand her exposed flesh.

    An involuntary shiver ran through her, and she instinctively covered her breasts with her arms. I''m practically naked. She gazed down at the torn, soiled garment. Is this supposed to be a burial gown?

    The thought made her stomach twist. Had someone tried to bury her alive?

    No.

    Memories of a distant life¡ªa stage, the roar of a crowd, flickered like a distant dream. But intermingled with those were flashes of another existence, a life of quiet affluence¡ªthe flash of jewels and crystal glasses, the whisper of silk and satin.

    She looked around for her tombstone, but found none. No flowers adorned her grave; no marker bore her name.

    Just an empty plot, marked only by upturned earth.

    She ran her fingers through her hair, raking out the twigs and dirt that had caught in its long black strands.

    Aubrey. The name came to her lips easily, as if she''d always known it. A name given by loving parents¡ªyet no faces came to mind when she tried to think of them.

    But one thing was certain¡ªshe wasn''t the sort of woman who would ever end up in a place like this.

    She took a step, then another, picking her way through the tombstones and markers. The graves lay in uneven rows, some marked by simple headstones, others by grand monuments of angels and weeping figures, their features worn smooth with age.

    The path wound between them, bordered by overgrown bushes and creeping ivy that clung to the old, weathered stones.

    Where am I supposed to go?

    She had no idea. The thought of wandering these winding paths, alone, in the dark...

    Her heart ached with an inexplicable sorrow, a mourning for a life she couldn''t fully remember.

    Why do I feel so... empty? So... angry?

    Anger... yes. It simmered beneath the confusion¡ªa smoldering ember that threatened to flare into a blaze. But anger at what¡ªor whom?

    Flashes of violence, a betrayal, a searing pain... a dagger... all rushed back in a sudden torrent. She reached down to her abdomen and her fingertips brushed against the thin scar there, almost hidden by the lace of the dress. The mark of the blade.

    A killer.

    I was killed... murdered... But by whom?

    Four faces slipped through her mind like shadows, murky and indistinct. Only one face came into focus¡ªone that sent a surge of rage rushing through her. The twisted visage of a man, his eyes cold and unfeeling, yet his mouth contorted into a cruel smile.

    She knew him¡ªsomehow, someway. She hated him.

    Revenge. That singular emotion burned bright, piercing through the cloud of confusion that hung over her.

    She grasped her head, digging her nails into her scalp. No, this isn''t right...this... this isn''t me! What the hell happened to me?!

    The stage... the music... the adoring crowds... her voice, rising in song... that was her life! That¡¯s who she was...

    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

    Aubrey clenched her fists, squeezing her eyes shut, willing her memories to return. But only fragments came: the crowd cheering, the guitar strings under her fingertips, the feel of the microphone in her hand, the heat of the stage lights... and the exhilaration of performing, the thrill of connecting with an audience on such an intimate level.

    Yet, intermingled with these precious moments... blood, flowing between her fingers, hot and sticky; a blade slicing into flesh, bone crunching; screams and cries of terror ringing in her ears.

    Two lives, two voices, one soul... merged into a single, fractured person.

    Aubrey threw back her head and screamed, her voice echoing through the night like the cry of a wounded beast, shattering the silence of the graveyard.

    Tears streamed down her cheeks, leaving streaks of mud on her pale skin. Her hair whipped around her head, tangled and unruly like a dark halo.

    Her voice tore through the air¡ªa primordial wail that rattled the bones of the dead. Trees bent and swayed, their branches twisting and cracking, as if in agony. Leaves ripped free, swirling in violent eddies around her. Gravestones quivered, and tombstones split and crumbled.

    As her scream tapered off, the graveyard fell deathly still once more. The echoes of her grief lingered in the air, fading to a murmur.

    Aubrey sank to her knees, gasping and trembling. The anger had fled, leaving behind only emptiness and exhaustion. Her gaze swept across the devastation around her¡ªthe broken tombstones, the disturbed graves, the upended plants and flowers.

    That... wasn''t normal. But then again, so was everything that she just went through.

    How did I do that?

    The question whispered through her mind, hanging in the air like a forgotten word. Her voice... something was different about it. A resonance, an echo... it carried a power she''d never felt before.

    She touched her throat, trying to understand. She hadn''t just yelled or shouted¡ªsomething had happened when she screamed. It was like... music.

    Yes, that''s what it was: a note, a pure, undulating tone...

    A shimmering light appeared, hovering in front of her face, interrupting her thoughts. With a gentle pulse, the light coalesced into a transparent, holographic screen, with text scrolling across its surface.

    [System Message]

    [Congratulations! You have survived the perils of your awakening!]

    [Name: Aubrey]

    [Race: Revenant (formerly human)]

    [Variant: Banshee]

    [Rank: Prelude]

    [Attributes: Grade]

    [Tempo: E]

    [Dynamics: C]

    [Timbre: D]

    [Pitch: C]

    [Harmony: F]

    [Resonance: E]

    [Cadence: D]

    [Riff: F]

    [You have 4 unspent Talent Points]

    [Notes: Please work on increasing your attributes in order to unlock further progression and abilities.]

    Aubrey stared at the screen, dumbfounded. What is this? Is this real? It felt like a dream, yet somehow more vivid, more intense. The words glowed faintly, pulsing with a steady beat, like a heartbeat.

    A sudden realization flashed through her mind¡ªshe was different. Banshee? Revenant? None of those names brought any clarity; They only increased the sense of surreality surrounding her.

    She touched her chest¡ªfirm, supple skin, the outline of ribs, a rhythmic pulse beneath her fingertips. The sensations anchored her, reminded her she existed in a tangible reality, not just a dreamscape.

    Revenant.

    A reaper.

    A harbinger of death.

    Someone who brought calamity wherever they went. The label felt wrong¡ªtoo heavy, too much. Like a suffocating burden bearing down on her. Her confusion grew as the reality of her situation sunk in.

    I''m... a monster?

    Her hair draped across her face, and she absently brushed it aside. Dark, silken strands...with streaks of red? Since when did that happen? Aubrey sighed in frustration as she untangled the messy locks, scowling as she removed the twigs and dried leaves.

    Sharp gusts of wind whistled through the trees, carrying a chill that penetrated her thin garments. She shivered, hugging her arms close to her chest, then noticed more changes in her appearance. Pale, white skin, the texture of velvet¡ªnot even a hint of a freckle or blemish.

    She frowned, touching her cheek, feeling its smooth, creamy texture. Had she always looked like this? And her nails¡ªlong and sharp, more like claws than anything else. Not the well-groomed and polished nails she remembered having.

    Maybe it''s a side-effect of...whatever happened to me.

    No. That wasn''t true. It went deeper than that. In a way she couldn''t explain, she felt as if her entire body had been altered¡ªalmost as if it weren''t hers.

    Another system message blinked at the corner of her vision. She focused her attention on it, and the text became more visible and legible.

    [New Quest: Discover Your New Powers!]

    [You''ve awakened as a new race and class. Explore your new capabilities and discover how you can use them to achieve your goals!]

    [Objective: Unlock and rank up each of your new attributes, and learn new skills and abilities!]

    [Reward: ???]

    Quest... powers... attributes... It was getting harder and harder to convince herself that this wasn''t a dream. But it felt too real to be one, and she had no idea if she should dismiss it as insanity either. What on earth is happening to me?

    Aubrey leaned against a large gravestone, rubbing her temples, trying to make sense of everything.

    Some of it... made sense, somehow, though she struggled to pinpoint why. Music... her singing... that part felt right. But this System¡ªwhat was it? And where did it come from?

    She closed her eyes, letting her body relax and her mind wander. Memories and feelings trickled in¡ªmusic notes, lyrics, rhythms...they played in her mind, accompanied by melodies only she could hear.

    In those songs, she sensed the answer to her questions, but she couldn''t articulate it in words. Instead, a feeling of assurance settled over her. As if she were in the presence of an old friend, offering support and guidance.

    Was it the System itself? No, that didn''t seem right... it felt more like... her own inner strength. That her subconscious somehow understood and accepted what had transpired, while her conscious mind was still reeling.

    With a long sigh, Aubrey opened her eyes, then nodded toward the screen hovering before her. "I''m listening."

    [System Message: Attributes]

    [Your attributes will shape who you become.]

    [They describe aspects of yourself: your identity, personality, and role. Attributes define how the System sees you, and as they grow, your capabilities will evolve to match them.]

    [Do you wish to know more about your attributes?]

    Aubrey mulled it over a moment. "Yeah, tell me."

    The screen rippled, responding to her mental query.

    [Tempo: (E): Tempo measures the speed and rhythm at which you can act, affecting reaction times, movement speed, and the rate of skill execution.]

    [Dynamics: (C): Dynamics governs the intensity and force behind your actions, influencing the power of attacks, the strength of defenses, and the potency of abilities.]

    [Timbre: (D): Timbre refers to the color, quality, and uniqueness of your abilities, affecting how skills interact with different environments or targets.]

    [Pitch: (C): Pitch determines the range and reach of your abilities, determining the physical and auditory range of skills.]

    [Harmony: (F): Harmony reflects your ability to synchronize with both allies and the environment, enhancing cooperative efforts and environmental interactions.]

    [Resonance: (E): Resonance measures your ability to amplify your actions and those of others through the power of rhythm, essentially enhancing the ''volume'' and impact of actions.]

    [Cadence: (D): Cadence represents your ability to maintain and manipulate the flow of actions and reactions, controlling the pace of encounters.]

    [Riff: (F): Riff embodies your ability to introduce variability and improvisation into your actions, making your movements and decisions less predictable and more adaptable.]

    Aubrey chewed on her lip, scrutinizing the information. These terms were familiar to her, though the context was foreign. There was music in these words... though she still couldn''t quite grasp how it all related to her.

    She scrolled through the attributes again, trying to find an explanation for the letters attached to them.

    "What do the letter grades mean?" she asked. "Are they good or bad?"

    The screen wavered, its edges blurring slightly as a new prompt appeared.

    [Grades are an assessment of capability: F for low, E for average, D for above-average, C for high, B for very high, A for exceptional, S for preeminent, SS for peerless, and SSS for supreme.]

    Aubrey scanned the screen again, raising an eyebrow at the "peerless" and "supreme." That seemed a bit much, even for a world that was obviously more than the regular kind she''d known. She chuckled ruefully at herself as she considered that she''d probably consider SSS an overestimation of her own capabilities back in her original world as well.

    "So, my attributes determine how powerful I''ll become?" Aubrey contemplated what she''d learned so far, still puzzled. "Well, I''m not exactly a fighter..."

    She was a musician. At least, that''s how she felt, deep down. But her lack of solid memories, the jumble of conflicting experiences, made it difficult to know where that impulse came from. Still...her fingers itched to hold an instrument¡ªto strum chords, pluck strings, and caress keys. It was an instinctual compulsion that defied her memories...but resonated with her emotions.

    A slight smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "I bet I can really belt out a tune now," she murmured. "I wonder if I could hit a mean falsetto if I wanted to?"

    She started to hum, softly at first, but then her voice rose, weaving a haunting melody in the night air. She let the music carry her away, ignoring the oddity of the world around her. For a brief moment, it was as if nothing else mattered.

    As if on cue, her voice swelled into a crescendo, then stopped. The world paused along with the music¡ªfor just a moment, the rustling of leaves stilled, and the moon hung motionless in the sky.

    And then it continued¡ªas if nothing had changed.

    Aubrey furrowed her brow, frowning. Did... did I just imagine that?

    "What was that?" she gasped, her voice catching in her throat. The world seemed to tremble for just a second¡ªbut perhaps it was just her imagination.

    What... did I just do?

    She stared at the screen, waiting for answers, but none came. Another gust of wind rushed through the trees, sending dry leaves swirling around her, and she shuddered, rubbing her arms to fend off the cold.

    "Right, now''s not the time to stand around thinking. I need to figure out what to do next." Aubrey ran a hand through her tangled hair. "First things first¡ªclothes. Can''t really wander around dressed in this..." She wrinkled her nose at the ragged state of her attire, and then grimaced at the dirt still clinging to her arms and legs. "And a bath¡ªthat too."

    Cleaning herself up would hopefully help clear her mind, too¡ªhelp her see the situation with fresh eyes and a calm head.

    The clank of metal and hushed voices snapped Aubrey''s attention away from the floating screen.

    She whirled towards the sounds.

    In the moonlit gloom, figures emerged from across the cemetery¡ªfour men, clad in mismatched garb of black coats and pants, the glint of steel at their belts. One of the men carried a lantern, its faint yellow glow casting a dim pool of light as they trudged through the rows of tombstones. The others bore shovels and sacks, slung over their shoulders.

    Are they... graverobbers?

 Chapter 2: Unhallowed

    Aubrey ducked behind a tall tombstone and narrowed her eyes, watching them warily as they approached the freshly dug grave she''d climbed out of. They muttered amongst themselves, their voices low and indistinct, but as they neared the grave, the words became clearer.

    One of the men stepped up, holding the lantern over the gaping hole in the ground.

    "This ain''t right¡ªthe dirt''s all turned up," he said, his voice rough and raspy. "Someone''s been here."

    The others glanced at each other, their expressions guarded and uneasy.

    "Look, there''s footprints. Someone''s been walking around here," the shortest of the four men said, gesturing at the ground.

    The four men peered around nervously, their gazes darting from the ground to the darkness beyond the flickering circle of light. Aubrey held her breath, pressing herself tighter against the tombstone, praying that they wouldn''t look in her direction.

    "Come on, we can''t let them get to the loot first!" the fourth man hissed. "Whoever it is, they can''t be that far ahead."

    "What ''bout that deathly wail we heard earlier? Might''ve been this ''someone'' they''re talking about!" the short one added in a whisper.

    Aubrey winced as she recalled the cry of anguish that she''d released earlier¡ªthe one that had seemed to shake the whole graveyard.

    "It''s just the wind¡ªthere''s nothing to worry about!" The largest of the four waved off the suggestion impatiently. "Now stop dawdling, and let''s get this done before someone else does!"

    "Maybe we should wait and come back later¡ª"

    "Don''t be a coward!" The big man pointed his shovel at his companion. "We can take ''em if it''s just one guy." He hefted his shovel in one hand and gestured at the others to follow his lead. "Let''s move!"

    The shorter man cursed, then followed, clutching his own shovel tightly. The other two glanced at each other, hesitating, but then trailed after them with reluctant nods.

    Oh no...

    They''re coming.

    Aubrey''s mind raced. Should she flee? Hide somewhere else? Or stand her ground and fight? Her earlier outburst seemed to show that she wasn''t entirely helpless... but something told her that going toe-to-toe with armed thugs might not end well for her.

    Too late.

    The light from their lantern shone on her hiding spot, illuminating her in the moonlight.

    The men froze in their tracks, their eyes wide as saucers. One of them dropped his shovel in shock, the heavy tool clattering to the ground. The other two staggered back, their faces pale with terror.

    "Oi! That lass ain''t right, look at her eyes!" the one with the raspy voice holding the lantern muttered, taking a step back.

    "Blimey, she''s an unhal¡ªunhallowed!" The bald one stumbled over his words in panic, pointing a shaking finger at her.

    "We should get out of here!" The shorter one yelped, fumbling to turn back.

    "No, no," the big man with a scar across his cheek, argued. "Might just be some poor lass lost ''er mind, wandering ''bout." Despite the tough demeanor he tried to put on, the edge in his voice betrayed his fear.

    "Yeah? Well, looks like we got us a live one!" the bald one jeered, waving his shovel at her. His confidence returned, bolstered by the presence of the others.

    Aubrey swallowed hard. Her gaze darted from one man to another, her mind still scrambling for a plan. Maybe she could reason with them... play up the distressed maiden card, act confused and innocent...

    She stood up, doing her best to compose herself.

    "Um... hello?" she greeted them, raising her voice loud enough to be heard clearly. "Can you tell me where I am¡ªI think I''ve lost my way." She gave them her best lost-and-confused-girl impression, with a shaky smile and a quiver in her voice. "I''ve... I''ve gone a little mad, I think... from grief... but I don''t want any trouble." She fidgeted with her torn, stained skirt, trying to appear as helpless and vulnerable as possible.

    "See, it''s nothing. She''s just some poor soul who''s cracked her gourd, is all." The scar-faced man barked out a harsh laugh, though the sound trembled and cracked. He shot a dark glance at his companions, who looked back with dubious expressions.

    "Just some crazy bint, wandering around a graveyard... and that unholy cry we heard earlier... yeah, right." The raspy-voiced man sneered, spitting into the dirt. "Methinks she''s the one who disturbed the corpse. Don''t like the sound of this, mate."

    "Aw, quit yer bellyachin'', ya bloomin'' gutless chickenshit!" The big man snarled at the other three. "No crazed lass coulda'' raised that hellish screech! Yer just trying to scare yerselves, ye bunch of ninnies." He snorted with disdain. "Ain''t gonna make me lose none of my sleep!"

    His words didn''t convince anyone, especially not himself, and Aubrey saw him clutch the handle of his shovel tighter.

    This isn''t working... they''re not buying it...

    Aubrey backed away a few steps, eyeing the four of them warily. The short one picked up his fallen shovel, brandishing the tool with a determined look. The one with a raspy voice held the lantern high, squinting at her in the weak, flickering light.

    "Hold on, mate¡ªshe looks different..." he murmured, peering at her as he rubbed his chin. "The unhallowed I''ve seen don''t look so... decent."

    The men exchanged glances, then moved closer to her. The one holding the lamp turned back to the grave she''d clawed her way out of. "Somethin''s definitely off here. Still looks like she just crawled out of her grave, dunnit? Can''t be a livin'' girl, no sirree! We should get her in chains, quick-like... there''s bound to be a pretty penny for her catchin''."

    "Aye. Could be worth a fortune, she could. Heard the Twilight Cabal be payin'' good coin for unhallowed of her sort. They''ll be ''appy to get their hands on her, sure ''nuff." The bald one who had been quiet for a while finally chimed in with a snaggletooth grin, licking his lips.

    Twilight Cabal... I don''t like the sound of that... and neither did the other two, judging from the way they bristled at the name.

    "But what if she''s cursed?" the short one whispered, his shovel shaking in his grasp. "We should call the Knights of the Cogsworn Order, let them deal with it."

    "Gah, who''s more likely to end up cursed¡ªthem sanctimonious poncey knights or us?" the bald one spat. "Only chance we got is to sell her off to the highest bidder, before she turns into some ghoul or wraith. An'' if it means a hefty pile of coin for the lot of us¡ªthen we''re gonna keep our mouths shut an'' pray for luck. Aye?"

    The short one shook his head, unconvinced, but the big one grumbled in agreement, stepping forward.

    "All right, lovey¡ªyou''ll come nice and quiet with us now, won''tcha?" His crooked, leering grin gave her goosebumps.

    Aubrey backed away faster as they drew nearer, holding out her hands in a gesture of surrender. "Stop¡ªdon''t come any closer! I¡ªI... please, leave me alone!"

    The men fanned out, their movements now cautious, as if stalking prey. Aubrey''s mind spun as she tried to decide what to do¡ªfight or run? Her gaze flicked around, searching for any avenue of escape¡ªbut no matter what, there was always someone blocking her path.

    The distance between her and the group of men shrank.

    Damn it... If only she had her guitar¡ªeven a staff or a club of some sort. Hell, she''d settle for a nice rock to throw¡ªor even a stick. Even just a distraction, a chance to get away...

    Aubrey''s mind scrambled for options as she glanced around furtively. Her gaze slid over the shovels that they wielded, noting the coarse, rusty iron heads, the chipped wood handles, and the layers of dirt and grime caked on them.

    The short one had a small knife on him¡ªthat she could snatch and stab... but it was tucked in the belt at his waist¡ªeasy for him to draw if she got close.

    She stole a peek at her own fingernails¡ªlong and claw-like¡ªthen at the fine, pale skin of her bare hands.

    Am I... actually considering fighting them?

    Aubrey scowled, dropping the damsel-in-distress act. "Seriously, guys¡ªgo away...or... or else." The words tumbled from her mouth before she could think twice.

    Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

    The four men snickered, glancing at each other in disbelief. "Or else, she says!" the big, scar-faced man mocked. "Ye gonna scream us ta'' death, sweetie-luv?"

    His eyes leered down her body, lingering on her curves, exposed by the sheer, diaphanous gown she wore. He licked his lips, then grinned.

    "Hey, lads, think she''s got enough meat on her to keep us warm ''n fed for a couple o'' nights, eh? Might even break some of our celibate streak, if ye know what I mean."

    ¡°I ain¡¯t touchin¡¯ no Unhallowed, no matter how bewitchin¡¯ they is.¡±

    Aubrey shivered at the revulsion that came with the disgusting words. She''d dealt with her fair share of creepy fans and rude paparazzi in her career... but the unbridled, lecherous intent in that gaze and smirk was like nothing she''d ever experienced.

    That was a side of human depravity that she''d never known before... but she knew it now.

    What could she do? Maybe she could let out that scream again¡­ the one that cracked the gravestones. That should deafen them enough for her to slip away¡­

    [The free one-time use of the Bashee ability ¡°Final Dirge¡± has been expended. You must acquire the ability normally from here onward.]

    Aubrey nearly jumped at the System''s notification¡ªthen inwardly swore at the implication.

    So, that was the equivalent of a freebie...?

    The men pressed closer, spreading out to surround her. Aubrey shifted her stance, moving onto the balls of her feet. Her breaths came faster, and her heart pounded in her chest. She clenched her hands into fists, readying herself.

    "Stay away from me!" Aubrey''s voice sounded stronger in her ears, no longer the pleading tones of a frightened girl. Instead, the words rang out like a battlecry.

    The four men hesitated, caught off guard by her sudden change of attitude. The lantern-bearing one laughed nervously, spreading his hands in a placating gesture.

    "Heh, listen, lass¡ªwe ain''t lookin'' to hurt yer none; we jus'' wanna talk..." He took a step forward, the lantern bobbing in the air as he lifted it higher. Its wavering light cast shadows across their faces, leering at her through the gloom.

    Aubrey retreated until her back pressed up against the gravestone. Her fingers grasped the cool stone as her skin prickled with awareness of the approaching men. Their stench filled her nostrils¡ªthe rancid smell of unwashed bodies, filthy clothes, and rank breath.

    The first shovel swung through the air at her head.

    It came so fast that she barely had time to react¡ªjust a split second to lean back, and the dull metal blade clanged against the tombstone with a spray of sparks.

    Aubrey pushed away, avoiding a second blow that hit the gravestone where she had stood a heartbeat ago.

    The third swing came too swiftly to dodge. The crude weapon glanced off her shoulder, drawing a sharp line of pain across her skin. She hissed, wincing as blood trickled down her arm, then leapt to the side to avoid the next attack.

    She cried out, ducking as a fourth swing sliced through the air where her head had just been. A fifth strike¡ªaimed lower¡ªgrazed her leg, tearing the thin fabric of her dress and biting into her thigh. Aubrey shrieked, falling to one knee, and narrowly evaded a final, overhead swipe that sent dirt flying.

    "Shit! I cut her!" The bald man panicked, staring at the blood-covered shovel.

    The scar-faced man cursed, kicking her in the ribs as she knelt, sending her sprawling onto her side.

    Pain flared through her body. Aubrey gasped, clutching her side.

    "She''s bleedin'' red, not black! She ain¡¯t an Unhallowed?"

    "Don''t care! Get the restraints!"

    Aubrey scrambled back as they closed in on her, the short one reaching for a coil of rope hanging off his belt. She grabbed a fistful of loose dirt and flung it at their faces, causing a few to flinch and falter, covering their eyes.

    "Get her, damn it!"

    A fire of defiance burned inside her, ignited by disgust and hatred. She didn''t care¡ªshe was tired of feeling afraid, tired of trying to be reasonable. It felt like she was already on the verge of losing it, anyway¡ªof completely flipping her lid and just snapping.

    Fuck it, I''ve had it!

    Amidst the shouts and curses, music began filling her ears¡ªa wild, frenzied tune that filled her with a strange, feverish energy. Aubrey could almost see the notes dancing in the air¡ªtiny, glowing, twinkling dots of light.

    [Harmonic Synesthesia initiated]

    The next moment, visual cues started to manifest, as if in response to her internal rhythm. Aubrey''s vision swam with color and texture; the colors shifted and blended into patterns of hues and tints¡ªalmost like a psychedelic trip.

    What the...

    She saw the wide arc of a shovel blade¡ªits trajectory traced by a shimmering, ghostly line that trailed in front of the swing as if predicting its path. A pulsing icon led her eye to a potential dodge point, where a soft, glowing blue circle floated in the air.

    Acting on instinct, she threw herself sideways towards the glowing circle. The shovel blade passed harmlessly through the space where she had stood.

    [Successful Evasion: Con Brio!]

    She blinked, dazed, but the rhythm and beat of the music remained. Her mind latched on to it, syncing to the cadence. It felt natural¡ªeffortless, almost.

    The next moment, more visual cues manifested. The time and place where each shovel blow would land, along with the timing and point of impact. They flickered, then coalesced into visible traces that she could easily discern.

    Aubrey thrust her hand forward, into a bright orange target marker that shone brightly. A sound¡ªa dissonant buzzing noise¡ªrang out, and the tip of her finger glowed, becoming outlined with an eerie, reddish light. It slammed into the scar-faced man, staggering him and making him drop his shovel.

    A momentary flash of golden light glimmered where she''d struck him, accompanied by the sound of a cymbal crash.

    [Successful Counterattack: Con Brio!]

    What the actual...

    The rhythmic music flowing through her mind became louder, more insistent, and the visual cues and patterns strengthened with it. The next series of attacks flowed like a choreographed dance, perfectly aligned with the beat and tempo of the music.

    She twisted and danced among the shower of swings and strikes, ducking under a horizontal chop, and leaning back as a vertical blow swept past her face. She rolled to the side to dodge the next attack, then sprang back to her feet.

    Another sequence of rhythmic visual cues flashed around her¡ªcues for her counterattacks. She didn''t question it¡ªinstead she just let the music guide her.

    The red-and-orange glow of an incoming strike lingered in her vision. Aubrey kicked off the ground, driving her heel into the bald man''s nose with a crunch and a burst of bright crimson blood.

    [Successful Counterattack: Con Brio!]

    She planted her hand against a gravestone as she spun past it, using it to propel herself back. A moment later, one of the other men ran into it with a grunt, a hollow thump accompanying the collision.

    As she completed the acrobatic maneuver, she flicked her wrist and raked her claws across the neck and face of the one with the lamp, sending him reeling back and collapsing in a screaming heap.

    "My eyes!" he cried, dropping the lantern, and blindly stumbled away. The glass cover shattered, and the wick snuffed out, plunging everything into darkness. "I can''t see¡ªmy eyes!"

    Aubrey felt a sense of vindication at the sight, and a cruel grin crossed her lips.

    The big man roared and charged, swinging his shovel wildly. The ghostly trace of the next swing warned her in time to roll to the side, and the dull iron head struck a gravestone.

    In the sudden darkness, she couldn''t see well¡ªbut the patterns of color and movement around her, overlaid by the music, guided her.

    Another series of visual cues appeared¡ªa set of attacks from the big one and the bald one, with overlapping timing.

    She tapped her foot, testing the timing, then sidestepped to let one man collide with the other, knocking them both off-balance.

    "Oof¡ªget the fuck off of me, you bastard!"

    Aubrey seized the opportunity and lashed out with her own strike. Her claws tore into the bald man''s chest, opening bloody gashes with a wet, tearing sound. He screamed and clutched at his wounds, stumbling back into a gravestone.

    [Successful Evasion and Counterattack: Con Brio!]

    Strike, evade, counter, duck, weave.

    Over and over, Aubrey fell into a trance-like state, reacting instinctively to the visual cues and rhythmic patterns presented by the music. Was this some sort of foresight?

    It was like seeing a second or two into the future¡ªexcept it wasn''t quite that¡ªmore like... the music played her fate and she simply danced to the tune.

    Every parry, every counter, and dodge¡ªit all fell in sync with the music in her mind, guided by the rhythmic cues. And each successful strike or dodge was accompanied by the melodic sound of a musical note or an instrument playing in the background, layered over the ongoing flow of music that dominated her thoughts.

    The grave robbers'' confusion mounted as she fought back¡ªand her advantage grew. Aubrey unleashed a relentless barrage of vicious attacks, raking her claws across limbs, faces, and chests. Each slash was followed by the meaty, tearing sound of flesh parting, and the hot, thick scent of fresh blood.

    Screams filled the air, growing increasingly desperate and frantic.

    Aubrey''s skin grew slick with blood, her hands covered with gore and viscera, her nails clogged with scraps of cloth and chunks of flesh.

    Through it all, Aubrey never felt the slightest hint of mercy or hesitation. Instead, her fury¡ªthe sheer hatred and disgust she felt for these men¡ªonly seemed to grow.

    With a snarl, she drove her elbow into the jaw of the short one, sending him reeling, and then delivered a devastating kick to the groin of the one with a raspy voice as he crawled along the ground.

    Their cries of agony mixed with the constant cadence and rhythm of the music. A sick, sadistic joy coursed through her at the sight and sound.

    "N-no! M-mercy! Please!" the raspy-voiced man sobbed, writhing in pain on the ground as he curled into a ball, one hand grasping futilely at a bloodied mess between his legs. The other hand waved frantically in front of him, as if to fend her off. "S-stop! I beg you, please¡ªno more!"

    Aubrey paid no heed to the pitiful, wheedling words, instead bringing her foot down upon his back and stepping on him as he writhed beneath her.

    Her long, black hair fell across her eyes, obscuring her vision. She paused to brush it back, tucking a few stray strands behind one ear. Her other hand, soaked with crimson gore, left streaks of sticky wetness across her cheek, but she hardly noticed.

    As the battle slowed, so did the music. The rest of the graverobbers lay crumpled and bleeding, moaning and whimpering incoherently, as they struggled to crawl away.

    Aubrey turned her gaze to the scar-faced man who''d first confronted her. His breathing came in ragged, gasping gulps. His teeth chattered from fear and pain as he cradled a broken, mangled arm.

    Aubrey took a single, measured step toward him.

    "W-wait¡ª" The words came out in a gurgling rasp as a bubble of blood swelled from between his lips.

    She paused, tilting her head as she stared at the man with cold, unsympathetic eyes.

    Suddenly, she felt an unfamiliar pull towards that fear, a hunger she hadn''t recognized until now. Her pulse raced as she heard his racing heart, pounding wildly, throbbing inside her head. Like a feast of delicacies spread before a starving woman, all her senses focused on it with rapt intensity.

    [Variant: Banshee]

    [Description: A type of psychic vampire capable of feeding on intense emotions. You rely on your appearance, voice, and personality to provoke strong emotional responses from others. By heightening your prey''s emotions, you create a mental link that allows you to feed on your victim¡¯s energy. Emotions of euphoria or terror provide the most nourishment, while emotions of moderate intensity provide less so.]

    What? What in the ever-loving fuck...

 Chapter 3: Bansheeâ€™s Harvest

    Aubrey stared at the screen with wide eyes and a slightly open mouth. The words "psychic vampire" stood out in particular. She brushed her tongue across the tips of her fangs.

    Yeah... That... sounds about right.

    The knowledge settled within her, a missing puzzle piece clicking into place. That sensation from earlier, the way she had somehow latched onto those men''s feelings of terror¡ªthat must have been it.

    And if that were true...

    Her eyes wandered to the scar-faced man. Hunger rumbled not just in her stomach, but across her entire body. She felt her senses drinking in the aroma and essence of his emotions¡ªterror, horror, desperation... all so tempting... so delicious... so... necessary.

    Aubrey reached down to grip his collar and pull him closer. The scar-faced man moaned weakly as she drew near. She felt his breath¡ªhot and damp on her cheek. Felt his eyes staring into hers, unblinking... full of dread.

    With her free hand, she wiped away some of the blood on his face, revealing the long, deep claw marks across his features.

    She touched the cuts gingerly, savoring his reaction, the way he shuddered and flinched with every trembling, quivering breath.

    Then she leaned in and whispered softly, "Now, let''s try this again... shall we?"

    She watched as his pupils dilated, his eyes widening further, and his breath coming in short, shallow bursts. "S-spare me! P-please..." he begged, his voice cracking.

    Aubrey licked her lips, a slow smile creeping across her face. "Can you tell me where I am?" The whispered words slipped from her lips by two layered voices¡ªhers... and... another woman''s that sounded eerily like her own¡ªharmonizing together. It made her pause in surprise for a moment.

    No. Not just any woman''s. The dead girl''s.

    And from the shocked look in the scarred man''s eyes, it was clear he had heard it, too.

    "P-please... just let me go. I swear, I''ll never tell anyone who or what you are," he pleaded, his voice quavering.

    Aubrey ignored him, asking again, "Can you tell me where I am? I think I''ve lost my way." She took hold of his chin, forcing him to stare into her eyes. "I''ve... I''ve gone a little mad, I think... from grief... but I don''t want any trouble."

    The scarred man let out a gasp as she repeated the words from earlier, exactly as she had said them. Then he stammered through a series of unintelligible syllables and stutters before finally managing to utter, "T-the C-Caldecott Cemetery. O-outside of Mordenstradt..."

    "Thank you. So nice of you to answer me..." Aubrey smiled gently, stroking his cheek with one finger. She tilted her head as she gazed at him. "I''m sorry for how... ugly... things have gotten tonight."

    Aubrey relished in the rush of exhilaration as she fed off his emotions¡ªas his despair and terror transformed into a subtle, pleasurable warmth that filled her.

    Her other hand held a firm grip on the back of his neck. Her claws dug into his skin, piercing it easily and drawing fresh blood. She inhaled deeply, savoring the intoxicating smell, the salty-sweet tang of it tickling her nose and filling her mouth with drool.

    "But sometimes... a girl just needs a good meal," she purred, and lowered her face to his. She extended her tongue, slipping it between her fangs and tasting the hot, metallic liquid that streamed down from the cuts in his forehead and cheeks. "Mmm..."

    Aubrey drank his fear¡ªdrained every last drop of his despair. And once she''d sucked him dry, she leaned in close and whispered, "But don''t worry¡ªit will be over soon."

    Aubrey drew his head back, exposing his throat. He tried to struggle, but he had no strength left, and his struggles proved futile. She placed her mouth against the soft skin just below his chin, opening her jaws wide. She sank her teeth deep into his flesh and tore out a chunk, spitting it aside.

    Then she bit down again¡ªand again.

    Until his screams stopped and the body went limp in her arms.

    She licked her lips with a satisfied sigh as she tossed the corpse away.

    The three remaining graverobbers¡ªwell, two since she left one blind¡ªscreamed in terror after witnessing the gruesome scene, scrambling away from her as fast as their battered bodies could manage.

    The aura of fear and panic that poured out from the three was as potent as it was succulent, sending a thrill through her body and urging her to follow in pursuit.

    Aubrey sauntered towards the fleeing men, keeping them within reach of her senses, all the while humming a tune that mimicked the fading music in her head. Her long black hair fell about her shoulders in wild, tangled waves, framing her pale white skin with a tattered, crimson-streaked curtain.

    ? ? I¡¯ve got a cup drained dry, and I¡¯m raising a blade to you, ah-oh ? ?

    She trailed her fingertips lightly over the rough, weathered surface of the tombstones she passed.

    ? ? I¡¯ve found a path of bones at the end of the moonlight too, ah-oh ? ?

    As she approached the short man, his terror hit a peak, prompting her to surge forward and pin his ankle to the ground with her foot. He let out a shrill cry and clawed desperately at the dirt, trying to drag himself away from her.

    She giggled as she reached down, grasping the man''s face with one hand and digging her long, claw-like nails into his scalp.

    With her other hand, she caressed his throat with tender, loving care.

    He screamed as she slowly dragged her fingers across his skin, slicing a deep, bloody gash from ear to ear. As his lifeblood spurted forth in gushing torrents, she consumed the terror pouring off him, reveling in its salty flavor until his death closed the door to its delights.

    ? ? Oo-oo, oo-oo, this is purgatory on a thorned stick ? ?

    Next came the bald man. His frantic attempt to crawl away from her ended with him trapped in a corner of the cemetery, hemmed in by a wall of graves and headstones. She caught up to him quickly, stepping on his back to stop him from squirming away any farther.

    He choked out a wordless cry as she flipped him over onto his back. She crouched down on top of him, straddling his chest. He flailed about wildly, attempting to buck her off, but she held him firmly in place with ease.

    ? ? Oo-oo, oo-oo, life¡¯s a bittersweet flick¡­ ? ?

    With a casual, almost lazy motion, she brought her clawed fingers down across his face, slashing open a jagged wound across his nose and right cheek.

    "Please... God..." he pleaded in a hoarse whisper. "P-please... don''t..."

    His pleas for mercy fell upon deaf ears as she continued to mutilate his features, leaving trails of bloody scars crisscrossing his face and neck while inhaling the fragrance of his terror.

    Finally, she clamped her hands around his neck and squeezed, crushing his windpipe as she drained his fear. When the life faded from his eyes, she gave one last tug, breaking his neck with a sharp, brutal twist of her wrists.

    If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    She stalked back to the blind raspy-voiced man who had collapsed to his knees with a sob. He covered his face with his hands and rocked back and forth.

    "Oh god¡ªoh please... have mercy! No more! I''m begging you... no more!" He broke down, his body convulsing as he wept uncontrollably.

    Her soft footfalls must be like thunder to him, booming in his ears. And even though he couldn''t see her, he trembled violently, knowing that she approached.

    "P-p-please..."

    She stepped closer, lowering herself and letting her hair fall forward, framing her face, so she could gaze at the weeping man. She then walked around behind him and laid a hand on his back, running her fingers gently up and down his spine. He jumped when her fingers reached the nape of his neck.

    "No... no, no!" he shrieked. "D-don''t! Don''t do it!"

    "Don''t what?" she murmured innocently.

    "D-don''t... don''t k-kill me!"

    "Mmm... Why not?"

    "Please!" he begged, turning to face her with tearful eyes. "I have a wife, a little girl¡ªshe''s only three years old! My family¡ªthey need me!" He crawled closer, grasping at her dress as his hands searched for something to cling to.

    His hands found her leg, gripping it tightly, pleading with her. His fear, desperation, and sorrow washed over her, and Aubrey relished it.

    "They love me¡ªmy family¡ªplease..."

    Her hands gripped his shoulders and pushed him back down into the dirt. She moved in and lowered her head so that her lips brushed against the shell of his ear as she whispered, "Shhh... it''s okay... it''ll all be over soon."

    "NO!" he screamed in anguish, his voice raw and strained. "NOOOOOOOOOO!"

    With one swift, smooth motion, she slashed his throat wide open, ending his miserable existence with a gurgling gasp.

    Aubrey let out a long exhale as she rose to her feet. The soft notes of music played out in her mind, then faded away to silence. The effects of whatever trance had taken her over had evaporated, leaving her with a slight headache, but she felt energized in a strange, jittery manner.

    She raised her arms towards the moon as if trying to embrace it.

    Her skin was no longer deathly pale. Instead, she radiated with a rosy complexion, glowing in the moonlight. Blood splatter had stained her clothes and caked on her skin, but underneath it, the porcelain skin of a beautiful young woman still shone through.

    She arched her back and stretched lazily, then grinned in delight at the sudden realization. She wasn''t hungry anymore¡ªat least, not for food.

    "Ah... Now, that hit the spot. Heh." She laughed¡ªa genuine, sincere laugh¡ªthe first since waking up in a grave.

    It felt good to laugh again.

    The fog of anger and hunger had cleared, and Aubrey felt lucid for the first time.

    "Holy shit, did I... actually just kill four people?" Aubrey muttered, dumbfounded. Yet, oddly, she wasn''t horrified. Well, maybe a little bit, yeah, but not in the way that normal people probably would''ve reacted.

    Instead, she just felt a strange, detached indifference¡ªlike watching a particularly disturbing movie.

    But still, her actions surprised her¡ªhow savagely she had behaved, without a shred of remorse or regret.

    Sure, the graverobbers were complete assholes, no doubt¡ªhell, worse than that¡ªbut still... killing someone should have left a bad taste, at least, shouldn''t it?

    Yet, the memory of ripping the scar-faced guy''s throat out... didn''t disturb her. Nor the sight of the blind-eyed, raspy-voiced guy, gurgling and drowning in his own blood...

    Aubrey supposed it could have something to do with the banshee-thing, and the System-whatever...

    Well, whatever. Aubrey shrugged. Can''t say they didn''t have it coming.

    She shook her head, clearing her mind from the disturbing thoughts.

    After a short period of self-reflection, she turned her gaze towards the city looming past the cemetery gates¡ªa glittering sprawl of buildings and spires, lit up with an array of colored lights. From a distance, it looked pretty, even peaceful.

    The faint scent of smoke, dust, and industry tickled her nose. That must be the place: Mordenstradt.

    Aubrey grinned.

    There was no point in feeling lost, confused, and scared anymore. She may not remember much of her previous life, but she sensed the echoes of her former self: an outgoing, optimistic, vibrant starlet with a reputation for defying authority¡ªsomeone who refused to take any shit from anyone, especially not from people who deserved it.

    Not that she wouldn''t enjoy playing the helpless, innocent, lost little waif, if the situation called for it...

    The other part of her who had lived here before¡ªin this world¡ªseemed to agree, albeit somewhat reluctantly. But the burning desire for vengeance... the rage... that emotion blazed brighter than ever, and that passion flowed through her, fuelling her resolve.

    There were a lot of things she had to do. She needed to figure out why she had awakened in this world in the first place... then find the people who murdered her.

    All the answers were out there... somewhere.

    One way or another, Aubrey promised herself, She''d find the truth.

    Suddenly, a message window popped into her peripheral view.

    [You''ve acquired a small amount of experience]

    [You have 4 unused Talent Points still remaining]

    She raised her eyebrow, pondering the prompt.

    So, killing and feeding on those scumbags had provided her some... experience points¡ªsomething like a game mechanic? Well, if a system wanted to quantify and reward her kills, who was she to refuse the acknowledgment?

    Hmm... Talent points. Well, since I''m starting a new life, maybe I should invest these somewhere useful. What are my options?

    [There are six skill trees to choose from: Sonata Path, Rondo Route, Fugue Journey, Adagio Avenue, Allegro Street, and Ritmo Road.]

    [Sonata Path: This skill tree is structured around the principles of a musical sonata, emphasizing balance, structure, and adaptability in combat. This path allows for a versatile approach, enabling practitioners to seamlessly switch between offense and defense, adapting their strategy to the flow of battle.]

    [Fugue Journey: This skill tree is inspired by the complexity and interwoven melodies of a fugue, focusing on intricate, multi-layered skills that confuse and outmaneuver opponents. This path specializes in deception, agility, and strategic use of the battlefield to gain an advantage.]

    [Rondo Route: This skill tree is designed around the principles of endurance and repetition, making it ideal for sustained engagements and battles against multiple foes. Skills are focused on durability, resource management, and the ability to maintain a consistent level of performance over long periods.]

    [Ritmo Road: This skill tree offers a unique journey for those who perceive the underlying rhythm of combat, a path for tacticians who can read the ebb and flow of battle as easily as a conductor reads a score. Skills cultivated here enable a practitioner to disrupt, synchronize, and ultimately control the battlefield, turning the chaotic clamor into a harmonious symphony that plays to their tune.]

    [Adagio Avenue: This skill tree is centered around the concept of control, emphasizing a patient, methodical approach, and strategic foresight. Skills developed here focus on turning the tide of battle through calculated defense, powerful counterattacks, and the ability to withstand onslaughts until the perfect moment for retaliation reveals itself.]

    [Allegro Street: This skill tree beckons to the spirited and swift, those with the zest to dash into the fray and the agility to emerge unscathed. Skills developed here focus on mobility, the speed of strikes, and the ability to evade and dodge danger. Those who walk this path must not blink, and certainly not stutter.]

    Wow, that''s a lot... Where do I even start?

    Aubrey scratched her head. It was overwhelming, having the choice of six different paths available. How could she decide which skill tree to pick, when they all sounded intriguing in their own ways?

    After spending what seemed like hours examining each skill tree in detail, she managed to pick the four skills that spoke to her the most.

    [Introit of the Valiant Heart (Sonata Path, Tier 1, Passive Skill): Enhances basic attacks with a rhythmic flow, increasing your speed and precision.]

    [Cadence Amidst Counterpoints (Fugue Journey, Tier 1, Passive Skill): Increases evasion, allowing you to gracefully sidestep attacks, mirroring the counterpoint in a fugue where two melodies play off each other.]

    [Staccato Step (Allegro Street, Tier 1, Passive Skill): Enhances agility, allowing for quick, short bursts of movement to close distances and evade attacks.]

    [Shove of the Heartbeat''s Force (Ritmo Road, Tier 1, Active Skill): A skill that creates a shockwave timed to the combat''s rhythm, pushing back and damaging nearby enemies. Cooldown: 8 seconds.]

    Those will do, for now.

    "Well... it''s time to get going.¡± She cracked her knuckles and stretched her neck.

    With a jaunty step, Aubrey headed towards the wrought-iron gates that marked the entrance of the cemetery. She wondered if the gate would even open, or if the graverobbers had locked it from the outside... but with a bit of effort, she managed to shove them apart enough to slip through the gap.

    Once on the other side, she glanced back one last time towards the mound of earth where she''d crawled out from. The grave bore no marker or sign¡ªjust a crude rectangle of disturbed soil.

    Whoever had buried her there... it wasn''t the one who killed her. She''d learned enough to understand that much.

    Aubrey blew a kiss to the pile of dirt and grinned. She didn''t know who put her in that grave¡ªbut she had a sneaking suspicion that she''d be meeting them again sooner or later. She''d make sure of that.

    After a brief, melancholy moment, she turned and walked away, sauntering down the main road towards the city while humming a cheerful tune. Not exactly the song that she would belt out at a concert... but it was still appropriate enough.

    ? ? Oh, wa-Oh,

    on the dark side,

    oh, uh-Oh,

    the dark side,

    dum, de-dum, dum,

    on the dark side,

    oh, wa-Oh,

    the dark side¡­ ? ?

 Chapter 4: Gravekeeper

    The outskirts of the cemetery, with its looming wrought-iron gates and the ever-present mist, felt like a boundary between worlds. Like she''d crossed through the veil from a liminal, lonely place of death into a new land where the living dwelt.

    A dirt road stretched ahead, empty and barren under the pale, waning moon. A chill breeze blew through the tall grass on either side of the path, stirring the vegetation as she passed. Her black gown, tattered and soil-stained, clung to her form, fluttering in the wind as she strode forward.

    Off the beaten path, nestled amongst a copse of gnarled oaks, stood the caretaker''s dwelling¡ªa quaint, two-story cottage with steam vents curling up into the sky and the warm glow of lamplight flickering through the windows. The porch had several wicker chairs strewn across the front. A stone path led up to the door.

    Aubrey wandered over to investigate. Upon reaching the steps, she hesitated. Should she knock? If someone came out, would they invite her in? Would they ask questions? Offer her help?

    Do they have phones in this world? Or like... a hotline number for an insane asylum?

    She frowned. She couldn''t trust anyone... but what choice did she have?

    The front door creaked open slightly. Aubrey froze, her heartbeat quickening. Had someone seen her approaching?

    A man poked his head out, looking around cautiously.

    He wore simple brown robes with a hood pulled up over his head. A pair of spectacles rested on his nose, reflecting the light of the candles burning inside. When his gaze fell upon her, his eyes grew wide. "Y-you...! G-get away, I buried you...!"

    The caretaker yelped, nearly tripping over his own feet as he rushed back into the house.

    Aubrey stood rooted to the spot, unsure whether to run or stay.

    A few seconds later, the man reappeared, clutching a rusty pistol.

    "Stay back! Stay back, Unhallowed!" he shouted as he waved the gun in her direction. "I said, stay back!"

    Aubrey raised her hands in a placating gesture, trying her best to appear unthreatening. "W-wait! I¡ªI can explain!"

    The man faltered. For a moment, he seemed unsure whether to press forward or retreat. Finally, he steadied his hand and leveled the barrel at her. "You¡ªyou shouldn''t have returned! The ground isn''t yours; your place is in the grave!"

    The muzzle of the weapon shifted slightly from side to side as he tried to decide what to do with it. It probably wasn''t loaded, but it might contain one round, and even a single shot could likely end her.

    "Look, I know this is hard to believe, but¡ª" she began, taking a cautious step backward, hoping that he didn''t shoot her just yet. "¡ªbut I woke up in that coffin... and I don''t remember anything. Please, I don''t mean you any harm, I promise. I just... I don''t know where to go."

    The man scoffed at that. "As if I''d believe you! I''m not a fool, Unhallowed!"

    Aubrey grimaced. So far, her plan to convince the guy not to shoot her wasn''t working. "Wait... Listen... If I wanted to hurt you, don''t you think I''d have attacked you already?"

    That earned her a moment''s consideration. The man lowered the gun slightly. "You... wait... I¡ªI did bury you myself! Three days ago. How''d you...?"

    "Yeah. Uh, about that. I¡ªuh, well... I dug my way out? Pretty much¡ªyeah, I did that, I guess? Ha, ha..." She trailed off weakly, feeling her words stumble as she struggled for a more convincing explanation.

    The caretaker''s expression grew wary, his finger tightening on the trigger. "Then you are an Unhallowed! You must die!"

    Aubrey put on her best smile. "Oi! Wait¡ªwhat¡ªI''m not Unholy! That''s, like, totally unfair, dude! Just listen, alright? Let''s talk it out¡ªcatch ourselves a beer or two¡ªwork things out like civilized folk, yeah?"

    She tried to laugh off her fear, but it came out as a nervous giggle.

    The man reached for something in his pocket and retrieved a small bottle filled with teal-colored fluid. Without hesitating, he flicked the cork off and splashed her with its contents.

    She flinched as the liquid splattered across her arm, causing her flesh to sizzle and burn. With a yell of alarm, she stumbled back, clutching at the wound.

    It didn''t hurt too badly, but it stung like hell, and her skin felt uncomfortably warm where the stuff had landed. The man immediately doused her with another splash, but she managed to dodge this one by spinning to one side, causing it to miss her and hit the ground.

    "Holy water!" the caretaker snarled. "You are an Unhallowed! A foul spawn of darkness¡ªa damned soul! For this crime, I banish you from the light and cast you back to the Nether!"

    He pointed the gun directly at her head and fired.

    Click. Click.

    Aubrey winced as the hammer clicked impotently against the firing pin.

    "Um... nothing happened. Are you sure it''s loaded?" she asked, watching the man with a quirked brow.

    He stared at the gun for a long moment. Then he smacked the cylinder open and checked the chambers.

    Now''s my chance!

    Aubrey lunged forward and grabbed the man''s wrist with one hand, pulling herself closer as she reached for the weapon with the other. She ripped it from his grasp and hurled it into the brush before he could react.

    "Damn you, demon!" the caretaker screamed, struggling wildly against her grip.

    "Goddamn it¡ªshut up, already! Will you just¡ªlet me fucking talk!" She punctuated the exclamation with a hard shove, sending him stumbling back into the living room, where he collapsed in a heap.

    She advanced on him with deliberate strides, her footsteps creaking softly against the floorboards.

    The man whimpered, his hands trembling as he tried to scrabble away from her, but she caught hold of him by the shoulder and yanked him upright. She shoved him roughly into a wooden chair next to a table and stood before him, glowering.

    "Calm the fuck down and listen to me, okay?" Aubrey glared down at him as she spoke.

    She saw her reflection in his glasses¡ªtwo blazing crimson eyes, framed by her long, raven-black hair. She realized she must make quite a frightful sight¡ªclad in the tattered and bloodied remains of her funeral dress, her skin smeared with gore from the battle at the cemetery.

    No wonder the man thought she was a monster.

    The man quivered in terror as he stared up at her, eyes wide with fright.

    "Alright, I admit¡ªI might be a bit of a weird case. But I swear to you, I''m not an undead of any sort¡ªI''m very much alive¡ªI have a heartbeat, a pulse, and all that." She gestured to the side of her neck. "Feel free to check it yourself. Right here, see?"

    She leaned close to give him a better view, her voice low and husky, as if inviting him to touch her.

    His eyes flicked down to her neck. He swallowed hard.

    "And¡ªand look! See? I''m breathing¡ªlisten closely; I breathe like you do¡ªonly faster because I''m angry and exasperated with you right now. Alright?"

    The man blinked rapidly, a few beads of sweat trickling down his face. "N-not all Unhallowed are walking dead¡ªthere are also demons! Y-you... y-you could be one of those instead!"

    Aubrey groaned. She shook her head and pinched the bridge of her nose between two fingers. This could take a while to work out. She really should have practiced a few excuses or stories beforehand, but alas.

    "Okay... Alright, let''s start over. Look, I''m telling the truth, alright? Here, why don''t I just¡ªfuck¡ªI don''t even know¡ªaargh!" she yelled in frustration as she ran a hand through her hair. She turned away from him and stomped over to the far wall, where an ornate mirror hung above a mantelpiece.

    She picked up a candle off the table and held it in front of her, so she could see her reflection clearly.

    Sure, the dark shadows, combined with the blood and gore on her face, made her look a bit macabre... but other than that, she looked fairly normal, with the exception of her glowing red eyes. She also had fangs now¡ªsmall, sharp ones, but they fit nicely in her mouth.

    The face staring back at her, the one that belonged to the girl who''d been murdered, was the same face from her memories as the rock star Aubrey... just... slightly different.

    Same facial structure, same cheekbones, same jawline... except instead of hazel eyes, she had crimson eyes.

    Even the hair¡ªalthough the ends were split and damaged from all the fighting¡ªlooked mostly the same as her own hair. Long, straight, glossy black¡ªwith crimson streaks.

    As for the rest of her appearance... the girl¡ªthe Aubrey from this world¡ªhad a similar frame and build as her. An athletic, slender, and curvaceous figure. Her bust size... well, it actually looked like she got an upgrade, to be honest.

    But overall... it felt like she just got a total makeover, with a supernatural edge to it.

    I mean, hey... if reincarnating into a sexy, dark Gothic fantasy version of my own body doesn''t scream, ''lucky you,'' then I don''t know what does.

    She heard the sound of wood scraping across the floor behind her. When she glanced over, she saw that the man had managed to get onto his feet and had drawn a heavy iron poker from beside the fireplace.

    "Hey! What''re you doing with that? Put that down!" she scolded, glaring at him.

    Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

    The man staggered backwards a few steps, but didn''t lower his makeshift weapon. "W-why¡ªso you can suck my blood and steal my soul?!"

    Aubrey narrowed her eyes and stalked towards him. "Put. The goddamn. Poker. Down. Do NOT tempt me to punch you in the face."

    The man gritted his teeth and swung at her wildly. She stepped back, narrowly avoiding the strike. The music from before didn''t return to guide her this time¡ªmaybe because he wasn''t much of a threat without a gun.

    "Demon!" the man shrieked. "Hellspawn! Evil spirit! Despicable creature! You have no place in this realm! Begone from this house and leave us mortals alone!"

    Aubrey snatched the poker away from him before he could react, slamming the blunt tip into the ground, right between his legs. She smirked as he squeaked in alarm.

    "Alright... how about we play a game?" Aubrey''s voice held a note of danger to it now¡ªdark and ominous. "Every time you say the words "Unhallowed, damned soul, evil spirit," I''ll hit you with this thing. Sound good?"

    The man let out a weak gurgling noise in response. The fear emanating from him grew stronger and stronger the longer she remained nearby. She sensed a slight pang of hunger¡ªbut she''d fed well enough that night to quell her craving.

    "I... I... don''t want to kill you," Aubrey said after a long pause. "But... I think it''s obvious I can if I want to. So let''s try this again: I''m not some damn monster... but I''m not a human, either. Not exactly, anyway. I don''t remember exactly who or what I was before... but I can tell you¡ªI have a conscience. I don''t want to kill unless I have no choice."

    Aubrey stared into his eyes as she said that, searching them for any hint of understanding.

    "Do you... do you know what I am, caretaker?" she asked quietly, leaning in closer.

    The man swallowed visibly, his Adam''s apple bobbing as he gulped.

    "D-do you know what I am?" she repeated, lowering her voice to a whisper. "Because... I certainly don''t... and it''s driving me crazy not knowing. All I know is that my name is Aubrey... and that someone had murdered me and put my corpse in the ground. But... earlier you said that you buried me... which means you must have known who I was then¡ªbefore my murder. So talk."

    She placed the point of the poker beneath the man''s chin, pushing it upwards and forcing him to lift his face to meet hers.

    The man gulped audibly once again, his whole body trembling. He shut his eyes, seeming to gather himself, before speaking in a low, shaky voice. "I... I don''t know about any murder," he said, shaking his head. "I swear it... I don''t."

    Aubrey sighed and released his chin, letting the poker clang to the floor.

    He flinched but didn''t move, his gaze fixed upon her.

    "Alright... So then tell me what you do know. Tell me everything," Aubrey said firmly.

    He hesitated for a moment, licking his lips nervously before replying. "I-I did bury you, but... there was a man. Paid a good sum to have you interred properly. Said he was a patron of yours, though he never mentioned his name or address. Said he couldn''t stand seeing you left abandoned on the streets for dogs or monsters to feed upon."

    Someone had paid him to bury me? Was it her killer? But he said the man was a ''patron'' of mine. I must have performed music or acted¡ªperhaps both?

    "Did he say anything else? Give a name?" Aubrey pressed, leaning forward eagerly.

    The caretaker shook his head. "Just that he owed you, for the music and the joy you brought him. Seemed a decent sort, if a bit... eccentric. Kept calling you... um..."

    "Yes, go on?" Aubrey prompted, impatiently.

    "His¡ªhis lovely Nightingale..."

    Aubrey shivered at that. She bit her lip as she recalled a snippet of memory: sitting on a balcony with a handsome gentleman, gazing up at a brilliant starry sky while sharing a drink.

    "... And he paid me extra to make certain that the churchmen didn''t learn about the, uh, circumstances of your death..." the man trailed off, glancing aside.

    "What circumstances?" she demanded. "I was... stabbed, wasn''t I? Somebody murdered me..."

    The man''s mouth fell open slightly, and he stared at her with wide eyes. He quickly raised both hands in a pacifying gesture as she drew closer. "P-please! I¡ªI honestly don''t know! I just... I just followed orders and kept my mouth shut, that''s all!"

    Aubrey scowled at him, but then let out a tired sigh, shaking her head slowly as she backed away from him. "Fine... Fine."

    She paced restlessly in front of the fireplace. Her mind raced as she tried to piece together everything that she knew thus far. Four people were responsible for her death. She remembered them as little more than vague shapes and shadowy forms, but the hate she felt towards them burned deep inside her heart. Only one of them had a face that she could recall¡ªthe one who had stabbed her. The others had simply appeared in flashes, like distant dreams half-forgotten.

    She needed to find answers, but this man didn''t seem to know any more than what he had revealed already. She rubbed her temples wearily, letting out a frustrated growl.

    "Okay... what else did that man tell you? Did he give any indication as to who may have killed me or why?" Aubrey inquired. "Think carefully... any detail could be important. There''s a lot you aren''t saying. Maybe you''re just scared, or maybe you really don''t know¡ªbut I can sense you''re hiding something from me."

    The man squirmed under her glare, averting his gaze and wringing his hands anxiously.

    "Please... I don''t think he meant you harm. He only wished for you to have a proper resting place. That''s all. Truly," he stammered, glancing nervously between her face and the ground.

    "So he''s probably not the one who murdered me." She threw her arms up in the air in a gesture of surrender. "Wonderful. One less lead. Still, something tells me he knows more about it than he''s letting on... I wish I could remember exactly what happened..."

    She placed a finger to her lips thoughtfully.

    This man had told the truth so far, but he might still be withholding information. If so, she had no way to coax it out of him without resorting to violence or some form of torture.

    "Let''s change subjects, shall we? Tell me more about... this world," Aubrey stated after a long pause, staring intently at him. "You said I''m called an Unhallowed¡ªis that because I rose from the dead?"

    He nodded, keeping his eyes focused on the floor.

    "So, how come I''m not... you know... rotten or maggot-infested... or... or some kind of ghoul or zombie or whatever the fuck. Why am I different?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

    "Some call it the Blasphemy, or the Cursed Blessing. No one fully understands it, but we believe the taint spreads outward from within." He shuddered visibly, wrapping his arms tightly around himself as he looked away. "Those that die and rise are Unhallowed... but the living can also become tainted by the Nether if they allow themselves to... through dark magics or acts of heresy. Those... those who do so willingly... they turn into true demons..."

    "Interesting..." Aubrey mused, her fingers tracing the surface of the dining table as she pondered over his words.

    Demons... so, those exist too? What did they look like? Were there vampires, too? Witches? Werewolves? Frankenstein''s Monster? I imagine the whole ''unnatural horrors'' scenario might be a bit more commonplace in this world.

    She drummed her fingers on the wood absentmindedly. "And what about me? I don''t seem too cursed or blasphemous or demonic¡ªexcept for the red eyes and fangs, I guess," she said, flashing him a brief smile that revealed those dangerous teeth.

    He gulped heavily, shrinking away from her.

    Aubrey rolled her eyes. "Relax. I''m just curious."

    "I... I suppose you don''t seem too bad for a fiend," he said timidly. "But there''s no telling how long it will take for the taint to spread through you and bring forth the madness... You... You don''t feel... insane or corrupted, do you?"

    "Hmm... not particularly. Other than wanting revenge for having died violently and waking up buried in a coffin, I''m peachy. And the hunger... well, I fed it earlier, so it''s dormant."

    "Hunger...?"

    "Yeah. Hunger. Like, the need to consume the emotions of living creatures. Mostly negative, scary ones, I think," Aubrey admitted nonchalantly. "For instance, the delicious feelings you''re currently exuding."

    The man stiffened, his expression growing fearful once again.

    "Don''t worry, I''m not planning on eating you. Unless... Do you want me to?" Aubrey teased, giving him a playful wink. "Kidding, kidding... mostly. Anyway... Moving on. I have one last question..."

    She moved closer and sat down beside him, fixing her piercing crimson gaze directly onto him. He tried to avoid eye contact, but she grabbed his chin and turned it towards her, locking their eyes.

    "I have to say, it''s not pleasant, waking up like this. I feel like a walking corpse. Ugh, it''s gross, even if I do look good, comparatively speaking..."

    Aubrey brushed some hair from her face with a huff and ran a finger over her cheek, examining it. Her nails were still caked with the dried blood of her victims. She pulled her hand back and regarded them with a grimace.

    "Is there somewhere I can wash up around here? Bathroom? Shower? Anywhere with soap?" she asked, tilting her head towards him.

    The caretaker slowly shook his head.

    "Not here, no... this isn''t... that sort of place, unfortunately." He paused, pursing his lips. "Although... the water pump behind the shed works well enough for washing..."

    Aubrey frowned and let out another sigh. "Awesome."

    She rose to her feet and stretched her arms above her head, arching her back as she let out a yawn. After a moment, she noticed the man watching her, and she smirked mischievously.

    "Enjoying the show?" she whispered teasingly, bending over at the waist so that her face hovered just centimeters away from his. "Or would you prefer that I gave you a private performance?"

    The man gasped as Aubrey began to remove her dress. He averted his eyes but peeked back several times as she peeled the bloody garment off her body, leaving it discarded on the floor.

    She let out another loud yawn and stretched languorously, arching her back, letting him admire the swell of her bosom. The scars and cuts from her encounter with the graverobbers still lingered along her flesh, although they healed remarkably fast compared to what she expected from the injuries inflicted on her.

    [Passive Trait: Minor Regeneration (Banshee) ¡ª Allows you to heal from wounds at an accelerated rate.]

    Ah. Thanks for that...

    She felt a burst of terror ripple through his emotions¡ªthough she sensed another emotion lurking beneath it... desire? Curiosity? Fear of arousal? Probably the latter.

    Well, well, well¡ªare you interested in the goods, mister caretaker?

    Aubrey twisted around, letting him admire her rear as she sauntered over to the window, brushing the curtains aside to peek out.

    The backyard contained an old oak tree, an assortment of garden tools and equipment, and a decrepit pump with a rusted handle. The shed itself looked like it had seen better days¡ªits doors were broken in half, hanging crookedly from their hinges, and its roof sagged dangerously, threatening to collapse altogether at any moment.

    "Yup... definitely looks like an ideal bathing spot to me. Which is to say¡ªabsolutely horrible," she grumbled to herself.

    Turning back toward the caretaker, she grinned at him lasciviously.

    "Now then, how about I show you some gratitude for letting me bathe in your filthy little dump of a yard, huh?"

    Before the man could respond, Aubrey reached down and took hold of his wrists, dragging him off the chair and up onto his feet.

    "W-what?! What are you doing?" he stuttered, panic and confusion filling his voice as she manhandled him over towards the stairs leading up to the bedroom.

    "Well, first I''m going to throw you in a closet and bar the door, and then I''ll wash myself. Once I''ve finished, I''ll let you out."

    "But¡ª!"

    "Trust me, if I wanted to kill you, I would have done so already, right? Also... if you can keep your cool, I''ll even make you a deal. A fair one," she promised.

    The man watched her warily. "What sort of a deal...?"

    "A deal where you live and we get to part ways in peace... with the caveat that you don''t tell anyone about me, ever." Aubrey stopped and tilted her head to the side, looking at him curiously. "How does that sound? Seems pretty reasonable to me."

    "You¡ªyou won''t hurt anyone here if I agree, will you? Please..."

    Aubrey patted him reassuringly on the shoulder, smiling reassuringly at him as she did so.

    "I only hurt bad guys, those who deserve punishment for their crimes. As for innocent people... I would never hurt them, okay? But I can''t have any witnesses or rumors spreading about me. People would freak out. Got it?"

    She smiled wider as the man nodded weakly in agreement.

    "Perfect. Now go on... into the closet." Aubrey gave him a gentle push, guiding him over to the nearby door. Once she opened it, he reluctantly went inside, his movements slow and unsteady. She then moved a chair, propping it up against the door as a brace.

    "See? You''ll be nice and safe in there. Just keep calm. I promise you''ll survive this day."

    Aubrey gave the door a final tap before heading back downstairs and outside into the night air.

    It was probably a fifty-fifty chance that the caretaker would keep his word... but it felt better to believe he would. It wasn''t like she wanted to kill him. Besides, she did owe him for the whole ''burying her properly'' thing, even if she''d only received that treatment due to money being tossed at him.

    But he did also almost shoot her, and tried to burn her with holy water... and tried stabbing her with an iron poker¡ªbut hey! Water under the bridge, right?

    She''ll just take some fresh clothes with her when she leaves. Payback.

 Chapter 5: Gallows Row

    Aubrey¡¯s boots clicked against the cobblestones, each step a sharp note echoing through the stillness of the early morning. Her crimson eyes darted about, taking in the sights of Mordenstadt as it loomed before her.

    As she approached the outskirts, she couldn¡¯t help but notice the shift in the atmosphere. Gone was the quiet, rural air of the countryside, replaced by the din of the city. Sounds drifted toward her, carried on a brisk breeze¡ªthe clattering of carriage wheels, the murmur of conversation, the whining of stray dogs.

    The scent of smoke and soot tickled her nostrils, accompanied by the tang of oil and metal. Buildings loomed overhead, their facades grimy and worn, their windows dirty and cracked. The streets were crowded with vendors and beggars, their stalls and their rags adding to the chaos and the stench.

    Aubrey wrinkled her nose, suppressing the urge to gag as she pushed her way past a group of ragged urchins, their cheeks hollow and their eyes dull. Several reached out to her with thin, trembling hands, begging for coins or scraps.

    "Sorry, kids. Nothing to spare." She patted her pockets apologetically, revealing the lack of any valuables.

    She treaded the cobblestones in borrowed clothes¡ªan oversized shirt clinging to her like a sack, and trousers too loose despite the belt cinched tight. She had washed her body the night prior, using water from the backyard''s rusty pump. It had been a cold, sobering experience. The caretaker had provided her with the clothes, albeit reluctantly.

    In addition, Aubrey now sported a new accessory¡ªa crude messenger bag consisting of burlap sacking, roughly sewn together with hemp string, and fastened shut with a length of rope. It held the essentials: A pocket watch, a canteen, a few pence and shillings, a comb, and a nail file.

    She had also ordered the caretaker to bury the corpses of those graverobbers. Better to hide evidence of her existence for a little longer.

    Aubrey continued onwards, weaving her way through the throng, ignoring the stares and whispers directed her way.

    Rundown buildings leaned into one another for support, their facades a patchwork of peeling paint and exposed brick, while shanties cobbled together from scrap wood and metal huddled in their shadows. The air carried the weight of coal smoke and the tang of iron, mingling with the less identifiable but equally pungent odors of crowded life and decay.

    Despite the filth and poverty surrounding her, Aubrey couldn¡¯t help but appreciate the energy of the place¡ªthe hustle and bustle, the vitality. A surge of excitement bubbled up within her as she drank in the sights and sounds.

    This feels like a proper shantytown of a fantasy gothic city. I have to admit... I love it.

    The streets narrowed as Aubrey ventured deeper into the slum, forcing her to squeeze past clusters of people gathered outside ramshackle storefronts and dingy taverns. Groups of men loitered on corners, smoking and gambling, occasionally breaking into fights over trivial matters.

    Children dashed to and fro, their bare feet padding lightly against the cobblestones. Dogs scavenged along the gutters, sniffing at piles of refuse and chasing after rats. Women perched on stoops, chatting and gossiping, their hair loose and their dresses revealing.

    Eventually, Aubrey found herself standing before a dilapidated building¡ªa three-story edifice of crumbling brick and decaying mortar, its facade covered in graffiti and stained with years of accumulated grime and soot. Above the entrance hung a faded sign bearing the image of a raven and the words "Black Feather Inn".

    She hesitated briefly before stepping through the doorway and into a dimly lit lobby. Within, she could barely discern the shapes of tables and chairs scattered throughout the space, surrounded by clusters of figures hunched over their drinks and meals.

    Dim lanterns glowed feebly upon the walls, their flames sputtering weakly in the drafty air. Music played faintly from a battered fortepiano in one corner, the melodies distorted and the notes sour, though the melody did carry a faint, nostalgia-inducing charm.

    The patrons turned to watch her enter, their gazes lingering upon her. Whispers filled the room, the voices muffled and the words indistinct. Aubrey met their stares unflinchingly, a smirk playing upon her lips as she surveyed the crowd.

    Most were dressed poorly¡ªtheir clothes threadbare and patched, their boots scuffed and worn. Many bore tattoos or scars, and a variety of weapons hung openly upon their belts and waists. Others had the look of laborers, their faces and hands rough with calluses, their posture slouched and weary.

    Amongst the crowd, Aubrey spotted a few women¡ªgowned and powdered, their makeup garish and their hair coiffed elaborately. These women clung to the sides of burly men or flirted brazenly with patrons, their laughter high-pitched and artificial.

    At the back of the room, Aubrey noticed a bar, tended to by a heavyset man dressed in a stained apron. Behind him, rows upon rows of dusty bottles and kegs lined the shelves, their labels obscured in the gloom.

    With a confident stride, Aubrey made her way over to the counter, earning an array of glances, ranging from disinterest to overt lust, along the way. She climbed up onto a stool and tapped her fingertips impatiently upon the wooden surface, waiting to catch the bartender''s attention.

    Finally, the man ambled over and acknowledged her, regarding her suspiciously as he wiped his hands upon a greasy rag.

    "What''ll ya have?" he grunted.

    "Just water, thanks." Aubrey flashed a polite grin.

    The bartender eyed her for a moment longer before fetching her a glass and filling it with a dubiously clean liquid. As he handed it to her, she noticed his knuckles bore the telltale signs of broken bones and numerous scars, and a tattoo of a dagger marked his forearm.

    "Cheers," Aubrey declared, lifting the cup to her lips and taking a tentative sip.

    She wrinkled her nose slightly at the bitter flavor but forced herself to swallow. Setting the glass aside, she swiveled upon the stool to survey the room, her crimson eyes scanning the crowd.

    "You ain''t from around these parts, are ya, girl?" the bartender asked gruffly, leaning across the counter and eyeing her warily.

    "Guilty as charged," Aubrey responded with a wry smile.

    "Aye. Figures. You stick out like a sore thumb," the bartender commented, gesturing at her with his chin. "Too clean-lookin'', and ya walk funny. Nobleman''s daughter or somethin''? But yer clothes''re cheap and yer shoes''re worn. Can''t figure ya out."

    "Just a traveler passing through," Aubrey corrected him, swirling the remaining water idly in the bottom of her glass. "Thirsty from a night of travel."

    "Hmm." The bartender grunted skeptically. "Best finish yer drink, then. Best head back home."

    "Soon enough," Aubrey replied, waving him away.

    She ignored his disapproving stare as he ambled off to tend to the other customers. Taking another sip from her drink, Aubrey shifted her focus to the fortepiano. A gaunt, middle-aged man hunched over its keyboard, plucking the strings with spidery fingers as he coaxed the discordant melodies from its battered innards.

    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    Aubrey furrowed her eyebrows as fragments of memories surfaced within her mind¡ªa polished stage, an audience applauding, bright lights illuminating her from all angles. Fingers dancing across ivory keys, accompanying her melodious voice.

    "Sing for me, Nightingale."

    Aubrey blinked, shaking her head. Who said that? Whose voice was that...?

    The memory must''ve belonged to the Aubrey from this world¡ªugh! No, no! Stop thinking like that. YOU are Aubrey! Both versions. Just merged together... right?

    She grimaced. This whole identity crisis thing was a real headache, and she''d only been ''alive'' for a day.

    Setting the water aside, Aubrey hopped down from the stool and strode over toward the musician, sidestepping through the crowd until she stood directly beside the piano. Up close, the instrument looked even more battered, its lacquer scuffed and scratched, its strings frayed and dull.

    The man didn''t pause in his playing, his fingers continuing to pluck at the keys, producing a lively, if uneven tune. Aubrey listened for a moment, letting the song fill her ears, stirring up further fragments within her thoughts.

    Another fragment¡ªperforming before a rapturous audience, her voice soaring to the rafters.

    Aubrey hummed the melody, testing it silently within her throat, trying to recall the lyrics. To her surprise, the song came naturally to her, the words flowing easily and effortlessly from her lips. She began singing along, her voice rising and falling in tune with the man''s playing, blending seamlessly with the piano''s dissonance.

    The music swelled, its notes resounding loudly within the confines of the tavern. Aubrey''s voice grew stronger, becoming bolder, filling the air with its power. Soon, heads began turning toward her, attention shifting away from their conversations.

    The pianist glanced up at Aubrey, his brow furrowed. She winked in response, flashing him a devilish grin. He returned the expression, nodding appreciatively.

    Together, the two performers continued their duet, Aubrey improvising her lyrics where she couldn''t recall the original lyrics. Slowly, patrons began swaying to the rhythm, clapping and stamping their feet.

    Aubrey basked in the rush of the performance, losing herself within the flow of the music. Time seemed to blur, the minutes slipping away unnoticed. Before she knew it, the song was drawing near its end, the notes fading into the ether, the applause ringing throughout the tavern.

    She bowed dramatically, her grin widening. Beside her, the pianist chuckled and took a dramatic bow of his own, eliciting cheers and whistles.

    "Thanks, pal," Aubrey whispered to the pianist, giving him an acknowledging nod.

    She then raised a hand and offered a theatrical farewell wave, before sauntering back to the bar and reclaiming her seat.

    [You''ve gained a small amount of experience.]

    Huh...? Experience for what? Singing? Performing?

    "You''ve got a voice on ya, missy. Never heard the song sung so smooth." The bartender remarked.

    "Thanks," Aubrey replied, flagging him over. "I''ll have some more water, please."

    "Didn''t scare ya away none, eh?" he replied, pouring a refill into her glass.

    Aubrey shrugged. "Nah. Actually, I feel energized."

    She took a long, satisfying gulp, savoring the coolness of the liquid sliding down her throat.

    "Care for somethin'' stronger? On the house, since ya sang so nice." The bartender gestured at the rows of liquor behind him. "Plenty''a rum, whiskey, brandy, ale... Name yer poison."

    "No, thanks. The water''s perfect," Aubrey replied, setting the empty glass back onto the counter. "Say, got a question for ya: Where might a traveler like myself find some temporary employment around here?"

    "Employment?" The bartender eyed her incredulously, scratching his beard. "Depends what kinda work yer lookin'' fer. Gallows Row ain''t exactly known fer its opportunities. Too poor a neighborhood fer that."

    "Hmm, Gallows Row... Interesting name. And no, I''m not looking for charity, or a handout. I''m willing to do work¡ªmenial labor, cleaning, cooking, serving tables, laundry... Anything respectable that pays a fair wage."

    The bartender let out a grunt of amusement, shaking his head slowly. "Respectable work, huh? Yer gonna have a hard time findin'' it round these parts, girl."

    Aubrey flashed him a charming grin. "Worth a shot, though, yeah? Know any places hiring? Any place needing a cute, talented performer, perhaps? Perhaps a theater, or a restaurant?"

    "Ain''t no theaters nor restaurants in Gallows Row. Place like that would hafta be somewhere higher class, in a nicer part''a the city."

    "Figures..." Aubrey muttered, running her fingers through her hair. "Any idea where I could find a job, regardless? Maybe a list of establishments that hire the desperate and the destitute?"

    "There''s always a demand fer labor in the factories," the bartender suggested, pointing a meaty thumb over his shoulder. "They''re always lookin'' fer folks ta fetch materials, scrub boilers, sweep floors, and the like. Good way ta earn a livin''. Hard work, though¡ªlong hours, low pay. Accidents happen. Lotsa folk wind up dyin'' or losin'' limbs ta the machines."

    "Factories, huh?" Aubrey mused, contemplatively tapping her fingernails against the wooden counter.

    "Aye. Plenty''a factories in the Ironworks district, north''a here. Big ol'' smokestacks, lots''a metal."

    "Ironworks district, got it."

    "If ya ain''t the factory sort, then yer best bet would be ta hire yerself out as a maid or a servant," the bartender stated, pouring himself a drink and taking a long gulp. "Noble folk''re always lookin'' fer cheap help. Most willin'' ta pay fairly dependin'' on the task. Course, nobles''re also a bunch''a stuck-up bastards, so ya gotta watch yerself or risk gettin'' treated like dirt. Them rich folk think everyone''s below''em."

    "Rich bastards, gotcha. Places to apply?" Aubrey questioned, quirking an eyebrow.

    "Sure. Them nobles got a bunch''a houses throughout Mordenstadt. Goes fer the merchant types, too. Ya could start checkin'' the bulletin boards fer advertisements. Should find plenty''a job postings."

    "Bulletin boards... Thanks, mister barkeep. I appreciate the intel." Aubrey gave the bartender a playful salute, hopping off her stool and dusting off her clothes.

    "Leavin'' already? What''s the hurry, missy?"

    Aubrey cast a sweeping glance about the tavern, noting the increasing number of patrons filing inside, many casting her curious glances and appraising stares.

    "Getting crowded, and I''d rather not become the entertainment for the evening. Call it an occupational hazard of being a performer," Aubrey explained, offering the bartender a noncommittal shrug.

    "Fair ''nuff, missy." The bartender snorted. "Take care, then. Try not ta get robbed, or worse. Gallows Row ain''t a friendly part''a town."

    "Will do, thanks. Take it easy, bartender."

    She tipped an imaginary hat in farewell and turned on her heels, making her exit amidst the swelling crowds.

    Out on the street, Aubrey strolled leisurely down the narrow avenue, dodging puddles of gutter runoff and the occasional pile of horse dung. Her eyes roamed over the buildings surrounding her, each a mix of timber and stone, most built directly upon one another with barely a finger''s width of space separating them.

    The architecture varied, though each structure shared a distinct similarity; they all seemed to lean precariously, tilting slightly to the left or the right, threatening to topple at any moment. Roofs sagged dangerously, their tiles cracked and crumbling, while gutters flowed freely with runoff from leaking pipes.

    Wooden balconies jutted outward, many supported by a single rotting beam, and clotheslines stretched across alleyways, festooning the skies with a chaotic mess of garments and linens.

    Overall, the neighborhood possessed a ramshackle quality, as if it had been constructed hastily and maintained haphazardly.

    Despite the rundown aesthetic, she found the vibe to possess a sort of grimly picturesque charm, especially the quaint row houses and shanty-styled shacks that lined the main road, each displaying a plethora of signs advertising services and goods.

    ''Madame Lilura''s Love Potions and Poisons.''

    ''Shamanistic Remedy and Medicine.''

    ''Tailor and Cobbler Services!''

    Aubrey''s wandering feet brought her to a crossroads, and she halted, inspecting the three paths stretching out before her. Directly ahead, a busy thoroughfare extended through a looming tunnel carved within a towering wall of mortared stones. Carriages and carts rattled down the cobblestone path, drawn by horses and oxen.

    To her right lay another congested avenue, though this one appeared to lead toward a market, judging by the sounds of hawkers and the aromas of produce wafting from its direction. To her left, a quieter street led into a maze of narrow alleys and shaded passages.

    Hmm, which way to go next?¡­

 Chapter 6: Damsel in Distress

    Aubrey contemplated her options, weighing the merits of each route. Ultimately, she decided to head straight, figuring the busier road would likely lead her out toward the wealthier districts of Mordenstadt. With purposeful steps, Aubrey plunged ahead, joining the sea of pedestrians as she marched underneath the stone archway.

    Passing through the tunnel, the urban scenery transitioned abruptly. The ramshackle dwellings and businesses faded, replaced by a sprawling expanse of factories, warehouses, and smithies. Giant stacks belched smoke and ash, casting a perpetual pall across the district, while the air rang with the din of machinery and labor.

    She pressed onward, her boots splashing through muddy puddles and kicking up clouds of soot. The factories surrounded her on either side, their walls slick with condensation and their windows fogged with grime.

    Here and there, she saw workers moving to and fro, their clothes stained gray, their expressions weary and distant. Occasionally, a carriage or a wagon laden with crates and barrels would rattle by, driven by a stooped-backed driver and guided by a team of snorting horses.

    [Ironworks District entered.]

    Ironworks District, huh?

    As Aubrey wandered further, she couldn''t help but marvel at the sheer scale of the factories, each towering over her, their chimneys reaching skyward like petrified columns.

    Signs posted on the gates and doors displayed names and symbols, indicating the owners and their industries.

    ''Lord Wilhelm Steel Works.''

    ''Von Schmidt and Sons: Machine Manufacturers.''

    ''Culver Textiles: Tailor and Linen Services.''

    Worker drones scuttled about, toting wheelbarrows and pushing carts laden with ore or scrap metal. Steam and smoke spewed ceaselessly from pipes and vents, shrouding the streets in a thick haze.

    Aubrey coughed, waving a hand in front of her face futilely.

    Damn, it''s filthy here. I guess pollution is a universal issue, even in a fantasy world.

    She navigated her way through the industrial hellscape, the din of machinery and labor drowning out her footsteps. Workers paid her no heed, their gazes fixed upon the ground or their minds focused on their tasks.

    After a time, she ventured past the factories and found herself walking along a quiet street lined with boarded-up stores and abandoned shops. The pavement here was cracked and uneven, dotted with patches of weeds and wildflowers.

    Up ahead, Aubrey spotted an abandoned carriage, its doors agape, surrounded by a scattering of bodies. The guards¡ªor what remained of them¡ªwere clad in uniforms she didn''t recognize, their armor rent and their throats slit. Blood pooled around the corpses, seeping into the gaps of the cobblestones.

    "Holy shit... Was there a robbery? Assassination attempt?" Aubrey murmured to herself, slowing her pace as she cautiously approached the wreck.

    Other bodies littered the area, slumped over crates, sprawled across the sidewalk, and crumpled against the walls of nearby buildings. Those corpses weren''t wearing uniforms, but instead a sported hodgepodge of leather armor and motley clothing¡ªbandits.

    Looks like a nasty fight happened here.

    She crouched beside a slain bandit, nudging his body with a foot. His face was frozen in a grimace, his mouth agape and his eyes glassy. Crimson flecks marred his teeth and trickled from his lips.

    Aubrey gingerly inspected the corpse, her gaze trailing over his weaponry. Aside from a rusty shortsword, he wore a worn-out dagger strapped to his waist, a ratty cloak, and a pair of badly tarnished leather gloves.

    "Jackpot. Fresh loot." Aubrey grinned.

    She unfastened the dagger and the sword, setting them aside. Patting the body down, Aubrey found a coin pouch and an item pouch, containing a handful of copper pieces and a few random objects.

    "Sweet. Thank you, dead bandit," Aubrey chirped gleefully, pocketing the loot.

    Aubrey headed to the carriage, finding more bodies strewn about the vicinity. Judging by the wounds and the placement of the corpses, it looked like the soldiers put up a fierce struggle, taking a few bandits down with them.

    Peering into the cabin, she spotted another slain guard slumped upon a bench, his weapon¡ªa rapier¡ªlying discarded beside him. His throat was likewise slit open, and his uniform sported a gaping wound where something had evidently pierced his chest.

    Blood stained the seats and the floorboards, forming a dark, sticky pool that reeked faintly of copper.

    "Wonder who these guards served... Must have been a pretty important target, given the escorts and the carriage. Looks fancy," Aubrey wondered aloud, glancing at the ornate details decorating the vehicle''s interior.

    A sudden scream shattered the stillness¡ªa woman''s voice¡ªhigh-pitched and panicked.

    Startled, Aubrey whirled around, her crimson eyes darting in the direction the sound had come from. Another shriek echoed from the distance, followed by shouts and cries.

    From that alley over there...

    "Sounds like a damsel in distress," Aubrey uttered, taking off at a sprint. "Time to investigate."

    <hr>

    Reaching the alleyway, Aubrey slowed her pace and crept forward cautiously, following the trail of bodies. Bandits lay sprawled upon the pavement, their chests slashed and punctured.

    Following the carnage, Aubrey rounded a bend and emerged into a small courtyard. Standing amid the corpses were two figures¡ªa woman and a man.

    The former appeared young, dressed in a simple yet elegant gown. Her auburn hair spilled loosely over her shoulders, framing a youthful face smudged with blood and soot. Beside her, the man loomed protectively, his muscular physique clad in a suit of armor.

    He clutched a broadsword, its blade dripping with blood, while his free hand rested upon the woman''s shoulder, steadying her.

    The man''s face was obscured by a full-face helmet, adorned with a crest depicting a winged dragon. A tabard emblazoned with a familiar symbol¡ªthree golden roses entangled within a circular device¡ªclung to his armored body. Though he sported multiple cuts and a few arrows protruded from his arm and thigh, he held his stance, unflinching.

    Six bandits surrounded them, wielding daggers and shortswords, their expressions nervous and their stances defensive. One of the bandits didn''t look like the others¡ªhe was garbed more like a middle-class man, sporting a tailored suit and an ostentatious hat.

    Kinda looks like a carriage driver...

    "Surrender peacefully, and I assure you, milady, no harm shall befall you," the man hissed, leveling a rapier at the noblewoman. "We can negotiate ransom terms later, once safely escorted from the premises. Your knight will not last much longer, I''m afraid, so yield now, or your demise will not be pleasant. I give my word, milady, you will not be harmed."

    "Sod off and die!" the armored knight growled, stepping forward threateningly and raising his broadsword. "I''ll gut every one of you bastards!"

    "My, my... such vulgar language. Is this the manners your station has taught you?" the suited bandit chided mockingly. "Though I suppose, coming from a commoner, foul-mouthed rhetoric is expected."

    "Scoundrel! Traitor!" The woman spat, her fists clenched tightly, her emerald eyes blazing defiantly. "My father will hear of your treachery! How dare you stain the Von Claires'' good name and honor!"

    I knew it! The guy was the carriage driver! Bet he was working with the bandits and betrayed the passengers.

    "Yes, yes... Lord Von Claire, the famed businessman and aristocrat. How sad," the suited bandit tutted, clicking his tongue. "Alas, once news reaches him that his darling daughter was kidnapped by a gang of wicked brigands, oh the horror! What a scandal, indeed! He''d pay handsomely to retrieve his precious flower, wouldn''t he?"

    Aubrey studied the five adversaries, gauging their capabilities. Despite their crude weaponry and motley outfits, they looked like they could put up a fight¡ªat least more than the graverobbers that she''d fought.

    The one with the rapier seems skilled¡ªfast and precise. The others are just bruisers, brutes swinging sticks. Easy targets, but the armored knight needs help.

    Should she butt into their business?

    Hell, yeah.

    "Oh my, I seem to have stumbled upon a crime scene," Aubrey announced her arrival, sauntering casually forward. "Are these ruffians bothering you, fair maiden?"

    Everyone turned to look, the bandits startled while the duo''s expressions transitioned from shock to hope, then ending with apprehension.

    "Who the fuck are you, bitch?!" a bandit snarled, his grip tightening around his dagger.

    "Language, asshole. There''s a lady present." Aubrey retorted, pointing a thumb at the noblewoman. "Now... the gentleman over there mentioned negotiations and ransoms. Sounds interesting, can I join in on the fun?"

    "Get lost! This ain''t got nothin'' ta do with the likes of you!" a bandit yelled, brandishing his shortsword. "Walk away now and no one will get hurt! Or join in, and we''ll gut you and leave ya fer the birds, girlie!"

    "Ooh, scary. Listen, boys, let''s try a little compromise," Aubrey proposed, wagging a finger chidingly. "Give the nice maiden over there to me, and I''ll let you guys run away."

    "Wha¡ª" the armored knight sputtered.

    "Shut yer trap, bitch! Like hell, we''ll hand her over to some crazy strumpet!" a bandit roared angrily, waving his weapon.

    "Crazy, am I?" Aubrey smirked.

    Already, the music began to swell within her mind¡ªthe faint, distant notes gathering strength and momentum. Aubrey closed her eyes and exhaled deeply, allowing her instincts to take over.

    The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    [Harmonic Synesthesia activated.]

    Her senses heightened, Aubrey could see the invisible threads connecting her foes, their auras pulsing with a distinct cadence and tempo. The knight''s aura shone bright, his melody powerful and unwavering. The noblewoman''s was softer, but steady. The bandits, however, possessed a chaotic, disjointed rhythm like a frenetic percussion section gone rogue.

    A lattice of colored trails flickered into existence, weaving between the combatants, highlighting their potential movements and intentions. Aubrey''s crimson eyes followed the trails, mapping the flow of the battle to come.

    Showtime.

    Aubrey rushed forward, her motions synchronizing fluidly with the music, her body adapting instinctively to the changing tones and rhythms.

    Before the bandits could react, she unsheathed the stolen dagger and lunged, closing the distance in an instant. Darting under a clumsy slash, Aubrey drove the blade upward, sinking it deep into her attacker''s exposed armpit.

    Blood spurted, and the bandit screamed, recoiling. Aubrey twirled and swept her leg outward, striking him squarely in the knee and sending him stumbling.

    [Succesful Strike: "Staccato!"]

    Not pausing, Aubrey whirled and spun, ducking and weaving through the colorful trails and threads, evading blades and thrusts. A dagger sailed past her face, missing narrowly. Another thrust sought her chest, aimed at the heart.

    Stepping smoothly to the side, Aubrey avoided the lethal blow, catching the bandit''s arm and redirecting his momentum. Flipping the dagger within her palm, she stabbed downward, piercing his neck.

    Blood erupted, and the bandit crumpled, collapsing limply onto the cobblestones.

    [Critical Hit: "Sforzando!"]

    Retracting the blade, Aubrey parried a blow, sparks flying as her dagger locked with an incoming shortsword. Twisting her wrist, she redirected the bandit''s weapon, then countered with a vicious kick, aiming for his crotch.

    Her boot connected, and the bandit doubled over, wheezing. Following through, Aubrey slammed the hilt of her dagger against the back of his skull, sending him crashing senselessly into a heap on the ground.

    "Behind you, stranger!" the armored knight shouted.

    Twirling on her heels, Aubrey ducked, narrowly avoiding a rapier thrust. Spinning her dagger within her grasp, she reversed her stance, lunging upward and striking at the pulsing mark hovering near her foe.

    Aubrey''s dagger struck true, hitting the mark precisely. A shockwave rippled outward, buffeting the traitorous driver and hurling him backward, bowling him over.

    [Skill: "Shove of the Heartbeat''s Force" Activated! Cooldown: 8 seconds]

    Two other bandits rushed Aubrey simultaneously, blades swinging. Aubrey retreated, her feet gliding smoothly across the cobblestones. Parrying a dagger, Aubrey pivoted and blocked a shortsword, sparks spraying.

    Shimmering lines and threads outlined her attackers, showing their patterns and intent, the music providing a rhythmic guide¡ªbut the visual cues seemed to tangle and overlap, confusing Aubrey momentarily.

    Shit, the harmonics'' accuracy decreases the more adversaries that approach.

    Taking advantage of the opportunity, a bandit feinted, then jabbed with his shortsword, his blade slicing her forearm shallowly.

    Aubrey winced, recoiling, as another bandit took a swing at her ribs. Dodging desperately, Aubrey backstepped and parried the shortsword, narrowly blocking the strike.

    The suited bandit clambered to his feet, clutching his rapier, his gaze furious as he leveled his weapon at her.

    Shit... can''t have him stabbing me in the back.

    "Hey! A little help here, knight-boy?" Aubrey cried out, parrying a bandit''s slash.

    "Busy!" the knight snarled, his broadsword clashing violently against another bandit''s shortsword.

    Gritting her teeth, Aubrey darted forward, engaging the two bandits.

    Keep the harmony''s range at maximum. Fight defensively.

    The cooldown for her ability has elapsed, but Aubrey held it in reserve, saving it for when an opportunity arose. Instead, she relied upon her eyes and instincts, evading and parrying, keeping track of her opponents'' threads, trails, and marks.

    Meanwhile, the knight battled fiercely, trading blows with his opponent, his armor sparking from repeated impacts. The noblewoman cowered behind him, flinching at each clash of steel.

    Blocking a bandit''s thrust, Aubrey parried, slamming the hilt into the mark, activating her ability.

    Another shockwave burst outward, and the bandit flew backward, slamming into a wall and crumpling.

    [Skill: "Shove of the Heartbeat''s Force" Activated! Cooldown: 8 seconds]

    Spinning, Aubrey deflected a strike and danced away, maneuvering closer toward the suited bandit. Meanwhile, the knight''s opponent scored a hit, his blade slicing his armor''s shoulderplate and penetrating, eliciting a shout of pain.

    Damn, the knight''s struggling.

    Activating her ability again, Aubrey knocked the last bandit away. She flipped the dagger within her grasp and threw, the blade spiraling through the air and spinning hilt-over-blade¡ªdirectly at the knight''s foe.

    [Successful Strike: "Con Brio!"]

    The thrown dagger pierced the bandit''s shoulder, burying deep. Crying out, the bandit dropped his weapon. Using the opening, the knight swung his broadsword, cleaving his stunned opponent across the abdomen.

    His foe fell, and the knight whirled, his blade seeking the suited bandit who retreated, parrying frantically.

    "Help me, you imbeciles!" the suited bandit howled, his rapier ringing with each impact.

    The two remaining bandits staggered back onto their feet, charging Aubrey and the knight.

    Seeing the bandits regroup, Aubrey sprinted toward the knight, closing the gap. Vaulting upward, she kicked off his back, launching into a somersault, flipping through the air gracefully.

    Mid-spin, Aubrey activated her ability, the shockwave propelling her forward, accelerating her aerial trajectory.

    Descending, Aubrey drew her stolen shortsword and landed lightly upon the cobblestones, her blade slicing into one of the bandit''s marks.

    [Critical Hit: "Sforzando!"]

    The wounded bandit cried out and collapsed, and Aubrey twirled to see the knight facing off against the other bandit. Their swords clashed, and the knight pushed his opponent back.

    The knight''s broadsword caught his opponent''s weapon, and with a decisive twist, wrenched the shortsword from his hands.

    Roaring, the knight decapitated him, the blade hewing flesh and bone. Crimson sprayed outward, and the bandit toppled, his severed head rolling away.

    From the corner of her eye, Aubrey spotted the suited bandit rushing towards the noblewoman, his rapier poised.

    Shit!

    Aubrey dashed, intercepting him, her shortsword lashing out. Her blade impacted his, and the suited bandit retaliated, his rapier flicking and stabbing rapidly, forcing her to retreat.

    Deflecting an opportunistic thrust, Aubrey sidestepped and parried, her shortsword locking briefly with the suited bandit''s rapier, their blades quivering from the strain.

    Pushing his weight forward, the suited bandit attempted to force her back, but Aubrey countered, her foot shooting out. She slammed a boot into the suited bandit''s ankle, causing him to stumble.

    Backstepping, Aubrey freed her shortsword, and, activating her ability, she delivered a swift strike to his mark.

    Another shockwave rippled outward, and the suited bandit screamed, tumbling away.

    Before he could recover, Aubrey closed the distance, her blade hacking into his rapier hand.

    Screaming, the suited bandit recoiled, dropping his rapier. Aubrey kicked the weapon aside and slammed her fist into the suited bandit''s face, knocking him out cold.

    Around her, the colored threads dissipated, and the music within her mind faded. Aubrey exhaled, lowering her shortsword.

    Mission accomplished, and no experience points earned, damn.

    [You''ve gained a small amount of experience.]

    Oh! There it is. Spoke too soon.

    She looked down at her hand, clenching it a few times. No matter how fit her body felt, this definitely was not something a normal human would be able to do¡ªfight off five armed bandits, dodge attacks, perform acrobatic maneuvers, and win.

    Perks of being a Banshee... or Revenant, I guess.

    More importantly... just what exactly was this Harmonic Synesthesia that enabled her to analyze her enemies and manipulate her fighting rhythm? It almost seemed like some kind of precognition or foresight...

    The system notification appeared again.

    [Harmonic Synesthesia is a unique passive trait inherent to you. It enables you to sense the melody and rhythm of combat. The actions and intentions of your foes, as well as your own, manifest as visual and auditory cues within your mind. Timing your actions to certain cues can amplify their effectiveness and produce dramatic effects. Use your instinct and training to harness these clues and flow with the music.]

    Huh, neat. So basically, it''s a rhythm-based perception thing? Cool.

    Aubrey straightened her posture, glancing at the knight, who stared at her warily, his broadsword lowered. The noblewoman cowered behind the knight, her eyes wide.

    "Stranger," the knight acknowledged stiffly. "Appreciate the assistance. Seems we owe you a debt."

    "Yeah, you sure do," Aubrey replied, sheathing the shortsword. "Nice swordwork, knight. Pretty impressive, considering you''re sporting some serious injuries."

    "It matters not, protecting milady is my sworn duty," the knight responded, his tone curt. "Stranger, I ask: Who are you, and what''s your objective?"

    "Objective, huh? Hmm... I guess saving fair maidens is an acceptable goal. As for the who, I''d rather not say right now. Call me... um... Nightingale."

    The knight hesitated, then nodded. "Very well, Nightingale. Again, you have our gratitude. Milady and I were ambushed, and I fear things could have ended tragically, had you not intervened. You possess a strange fighting style and techniques, Nightingale. Pray tell, where did you learn such arts?"

    "That, my metal friend, is a long and complicated tale." She approached the unconscious suited bandit, crouching and patting him down, checking his pockets and his person.

    "Searching him for coins?" the knight observed.

    "Yeah, looking to acquire some scratch, ya know," Aubrey quipped. "Money makes the world go ''round."

    Finding a coin pouch, Aubrey stood. "Ah, jackpot."

    "Robbing a defeated enemy, Nightingale?" the knight remarked.

    "Hey, it''s the cost of doing heroism, yeah? Besides, he tried to kill milady over there, remember?" Aubrey pointed out.

    "Indeed. Regardless, Nightingale, I offer you our deepest appreciation. Mayhaps there''s a way I can repay the favor? Repaying kindness with kindness and all."

    "Hmm, what''s Milady''s name anyways?" Aubrey inquired, turning her attention to the cowering noblewoman.

    "Milady Erika Von Claire, daughter of Lord Wilhelm Von Claire," the knight supplied.

    "Erika, huh? Hiya, Erika. Nice dress. Love the color," Aubrey greeted, giving an exaggerated curtsy.

    "Th-thank you," Erika replied timidly, her voice barely a whisper. The noblewoman clung tightly onto her protector, trembling.

    Aubrey approached them cautiously, stopping a respectful distance away and studying the duo. "So, knight-boy, why was the carriage ambushed anyways? Were they after the noble''s riches, or were they targeting the fair Erika?"

    "Bandits, Nightingale. That man over there," the knight gestured with a gauntlet-clad finger, "was the driver. Turns out, he betrayed us. Led his accomplices to our location and ambushed Milady and her guards. Once the ambush commenced, Milady and I escaped, only for the traitors to chase us here."

    "Wow. Harrowing. So, Erika, are you okay? No injuries, scratches, cuts, or bruises?" Aubrey questioned, her gaze scrutinizing the noblewoman''s condition.

    "Y-yes. I-I''m unharmed." Erika replied, hugging herself, her face pale.

    "Good, glad to hear. Knight-boy, how about you? Multiple injuries, but it seems you''re standing firmly. Armor''s taking a beating, though. Not the fanciest gear, but certainly durable."

    "Armor''s enchanted. Resists cutting and slashing. Still, I''ll need tending to, Nightingale, lest Milady and I return in this state."

    "True," Aubrey conceded, crossing her arms. "Hmm, now about that reward..."

    "Name your price, Nightingale. Coin? Items? Surely, milady can compensate for our debts."

    "Well, if you insist." She eyed the noblewoman¡ªparticularly her dress. The garment looked lovely, finely crafted and exquisitely detailed, clearly tailored by a master tailor.

    It was much more fashionable compared to the loose shirt and trousers Aubrey took from that caretaker.

    "Tell ya what... Milady''s dress¡ªcan I have it?" Aubrey requested, flashing the duo her most innocent smile.

    "What?! My dress?!" Erika gasped, her jaw dropping, a hand clutching her bosom.

    Silence settled over the courtyard, and the knight''s response came¡ªbrusque and indignant. "Milady''s dress?! Nightingale, have you gone mad!?"

    "She can wear mine. The tunic and pants. Fair trade, yeah?" Aubrey proposed, gesturing at her current attire.

    "No, Nightingale. Milady will not exchange her dress for peasant''s rags. Pick something else."

    Before he could utter another response, Aubrey dashed forward as a new tune began to play in her mind, the music intensifying and energizing her.

    She raised her hand and flicked the mark by the knight''s helmet.

    [Skill: "Shove of the Heartbeat''s Force" Activated! Cooldown: 8 seconds]

    A shockwave rippled outward, buffeting the knight and sending him flying, crashing onto the cobblestones heavily. A faint groan emanated from his prone form before falling silent.

    Erika squeaked, covering her mouth, her eyes bulging in shock. Aubrey sauntered over to her, smirking mischievously.

    "Milady, I''m gonna need to borrow your dress, please," Aubrey sang sweetly, grabbing the noblewoman''s arm. "Now, if you''d be so kind¡­ strip."

 Chapter 7: Cathedral ofâ€¦

    Aubrey trotted down the main thoroughfare with an audacious spring in her step, swathed in her ingeniously modified attire. The noblewoman''s dress, now absent its constricting bodice, had been daringly modified to accommodate her more ample figure.

    Thankfully, the bra fits. Otherwise, I''d feel like a balloon about to pop.

    In a bold departure from the era''s stringent norms, she had discarded the bodice entirely, opting instead for a loose-fitting, silky chemise that served as a makeshift undergarment. This layer, scarcely meant for the public eye, peeked from beneath the remaining components of the dress.

    Accompanying the chemise, a pair of tastefully unlaced sleeves draped freely, billowing elegantly as she pranced merrily along the cobblestones.

    The gown itself, a stunning piece of black silk, now wrapped less conventionally around her. The high neckline and intricate lace had been forgone in favor of a more revealing cut, one that inadvertently accentuated her curves.

    Likewise, the skirt, once hemmed and bound with complex, restrictive layers, had been altered, the excess fabric discarded and trimmed. The remaining length hugged her hips, retaining a semblance of modesty¡ªalbeit loosened¡ªending just above her ankles and revealing a daring glimpse of her boots beneath.

    To compensate for the lost structure of the bodice, she had cinched the dress at the waist with a length of ribbon snatched from the noblewoman''s luggage, creating a semblance of fit. Additionally, a borrowed leather belt had been appropriated, doubling as a functional accessory and a convenient holster for her pilfered weapons.

    All told, Aubrey felt liberated. The final product was¡ªdespite the radical modifications¡ªa resplendent, if not risqu¨¦, ensemble.

    Erika had complied reluctantly and tearfully, swapping Aubrey''s tunic and trousers with her dress, and Aubrey had relented and allowed her to keep the accessories.

    Afterward, Aubrey tied the suited bandit using his cravat, fashioning improvised restraints around his wrists and ankles, securing the traitor to a nearby lamppost.

    The unconscious knight''s fate, she left to the noblewoman''s discretion¡ªand compensation.

    Along the way, Aubrey looted the slain bandits, taking whatever valuables she could pilfer. The haul consisted of several coin pouches, a few rings, a necklace, and a bracelet.

    Aubrey hummed merrily as she marched down the avenue, admiring her reflection in the storefront windows and mirrors. She ran a hand through her hair, letting the raven locks flow freely, tousling the strands and adjusting their placement. Somehow she had makeup on¡ªprobably another Banshee thing. Her crimson eyes were framed beautifully by her smoky eyeshadow and dark eyeliner.

    Overall, she looked rad, Goth, and vampish.

    Best loot ever, definitely worth the trouble.

    Pausing, she glanced up and admired her surroundings, marveling at the towering edifices lining the avenue. Stone statues and marble plinths decorated the boulevard, adding a sense of grandeur to the streets.

    Her wanderlust drew her away from the avenue''s grandeur, her feet leading her to where the Ironworks'' smoke softened into the mists that veiled Gallows Row.

    The vibrant clamor of hammers and the hiss of steam gave way to an eerie silence, broken only by the occasional drunken shout or the cry of a passing gull.

    Winding her way through the dilapidated streets, Aubrey''s gaze settled upon a decrepit cathedral shrouded in a misty gloom, its towering spires piercing the veil of the fog.

    Ivy ensnared the stone, weaving through its crevices and cracks, as if trying to pull the ancient structure back into the earth from whence it came.

    Woah...

    Aubrey stared at the imposing structure, her curiosity drawing her nearer.

    A passerby, noticing Aubrey''s fixed gaze upon the cathedral, sidled closer, nudging her.

    "Ye ought not to wander yon," he murmured, gesturing to the decrepit edifice. "Cursed, that place be. Haunted by sounds that''ll curdle yer blood and shadows that dance with no folk to lead ''em. At night, ye can hear ''em¡ªscreechin'' and wailn''¡ªlike damned souls."

    Aubrey glanced sidelong, meeting the passerby''s sunken, red-rimmed eyes. "Really?"

    "Aye, rumors abound. Old tales speak of Unhallowed, creatures cursed an'' damned. Wretched and malevolent, lurkin'' within thar halls. Folks''ve gone missn'', and none brave enough ta seek ''em out. Best keep yer distance, miss."

    The man hobbled away, and Aubrey lingered, her gaze transfixed by the Gothic cathedral''s ruined facade.

    Her lips twitched into a smile, and she suppressed a chuckle. "Sounds like my kind of party."

    Ignoring the old man''s cautionary tale, she walked briskly toward the cathedral.

    She tested the door, and it gave easily, creaking inward and admitting her.

    Crossing the threshold, Aubrey stepped into a darkened vestibule.

    Massive pillars stretched upward, disappearing into shadow, supporting the vaulted ceiling, its rafters draped in shadow and cobwebs. Motes of dust drifted lazily upon the fading evening light, lending the air a ghostly aspect.

    Columns lined the periphery, encircling a central rotunda. Beyond, Aubrey could make out rows upon rows of pews, arrayed before an apse draped in shadow. Sunlight, filtered through the stained glass windows, painted the dust-laden pews in vibrant hues.

    Aubrey inhaled, breathing deeply. The air smelled stale and musty, infused with the subtle odor of incense and candle wax.

    Her boots clicked softly upon the stone tiles, and the door groaned shut, leaving her alone.

    "Hello? Anyone home? Don''t mind me, just a friendly visitor," Aubrey announced.

    No answer, save for the echo of her words fading softly within the sanctuary.

    Tutting, Aubrey wandered down the nave, her footsteps echoing in the vast, empty hall, gazing idly at the murals and frescoes adorning the walls.

    Statues peered down from their alcoves, their blank, stone-carved faces regarding her impassively. Aubrey''s fingers traced along the backs of the pews, feeling the grain of the wood, smooth yet cloaked with a thin layer of dust.

    At the chancel, Aubrey halted and gazed upwards, admiring the intricate craftsmanship.

    This reminded her of Notre Dame or Saint Patrick''s Cathedral. Except... creepier.

    Her gaze trailed higher, settling upon the stained glass windows lining the upper tiers. Each pane depicted images of... musicians?

    Squinting, Aubrey studied the nearest image¡ªa musician, seated upon a stool, cradling a violin within her grasp. A scroll, inscribed with musical notation, floated above the musician''s head, depicting an unfamiliar melody.

    Huh... Odd choice of artwork. But hey, I dig it. Guess the religious imagery was inspired.

    Further inspection showed similar motifs¡ªmusicians playing their instruments, surrounded by musical staffs and symbols, floating above their heads.

    How enchanting. Wonder what that imagery represents... Music-related miracles, maybe?

    "Guess I''m not the only performer gracing these halls," Aubrey spoke, addressing the silence, her voice bouncing off the walls.

    Turning away, Aubrey''s gaze roamed the apse, catching sight of an ancient organ tucked within an elevated alcove, its pipes reaching upward, extending into the shadows.

    Aubrey approached, admiring the instrument, her fingers brushing gently upon the ivory keys. Dust tickled her nostrils, and she coughed.

    Something tugged within her memory, and a sense of longing bloomed¡ªa yearning to hear the instrument sing, to fill the sanctuary with a resounding melody.

    "I doubt this thing even works anymore..." Aubrey murmured, inspecting the organ, her fingertips caressing its ancient mechanism.

    Despite the dust and neglect, the keys were meticulously carved, the brass fixtures polished.

    Experimentally, Aubrey tapped a key.

    A note rang forth, resonating with a rich, deep timbre, echoing throughout the sanctuary.

    It still works!

    Encouraged, she pressed another key, striking it gently. The note resonated, the vibrations traveling pleasantly through her fingertips. A third key received the same treatment, producing a lower note.

    Again, she pressed more keys, and the notes swelled, louder and clearer.

    Music filled the apse, reverberating throughout the sanctuary, its melodies dancing through the empty hall, lingering upon the stained glass and coloring the air.

    After a time, Aubrey released the final key, her fingers lingering upon the ivory, reluctant to depart.

    Her gaze darted expectantly, searching the empty pews and the surrounding shadows, hoping for an audience.

    None materialized.

    "Anyone listening? I''ll serenade the masses," Aubrey called out, sweeping her arms theatrically. "Just kidding. Maybe later."

    Disappointed, Aubrey strode onward, exploring the rest of the sanctuary.

    As she ventured deeper, her footsteps a soft litany against the stone floor, something stirred in the shadows. Not a sound, but a shift in the air, a change in the pattern of motes drifting through the fading sunlight.

    Aubrey''s stride faltered, and she froze, her senses straining.

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

    Is something here...?

    The sense of being watched intensified, a prickling at the back of her neck.

    Then, from the corner of her eye, she noticed a shadow that detached itself from the gloom of the cathedral''s farthest reaches. It moved with a deliberate grace, silent as the grave, save for the faintest scrape of stone against stone.

    "Um, hi?" Aubrey called out, greeting the emptiness.

    The shadow paused, a mere silhouette against the dim light, its form too indistinct to discern except for two pinpricks of light.

    Eyes. Staring. Unwavering.

    "Did I interrupt service? Sorry, I''ll just explore a bit," Aubrey continued, her gaze tracking the shadow. "Say... are you a priest, pastor, or deacon perhaps? Can''t imagine worship still takes place here."

    Her questions hung suspended within the stillness, unanswered.

    Undaunted, Aubrey continued, adopting a casual, conversational tone. "Got an organ. Nice and dusty, and the tunes work, surprisingly. Looks expensive, wonder who plays it. Must''ve taken a lot of dedication and money, getting it installed and maintained."

    Still no response.

    "Okay, ignoring me, eh? Fine."

    Aubrey marched towards the altar and sat upon the steps. Crossing her legs, Aubrey reclined leisurely and leaned back, her palms resting upon the cool stone.

    "Well, Mr. or Ms. Silent, I''ll hang out a bit, yeah? Got nowhere to go, anyway."

    In the dim light, filtered through the remnants of sacred glass, the form took shape¡ªa creature of stone, its features rough and worn, its eyes aglow with an eldritch light. Its wings, folded neatly behind its back, scraped the stone tiles, trailing a rasping sound.

    What the...

    Aubrey squinted, studying the creature''s features. Its face, contoured with jagged lines and sharp angles, bore a stern countenance, its lips set in a perpetual scowl. Two horns, curved and gnarled, crowned its head, protruding proudly from the stone.

    Its limbs, bulky and thick, were notched and scratched.

    Holy shit... is that a gargoyle!?

    As Aubrey rose to her feet, the creature unfurled its wings, stretching them wide. Its joints creaked, the sound echoing throughout the sanctuary.

    "Well, hello there, Mr. Silent," Aubrey greeted, her demeanor nonchalant, despite her pounding heart. "Didn''t know this cathedral had a guardian gargoyle. Very cool."

    The creature cocked its head, its glowing gaze fixed upon her. Its mouth parted, revealing saw-like fangs.

    "Leave this place," it growled, a voice like gravel dragged across cobblestone.

    "Ooh, talking gargoyle. Even cooler," Aubrey responded, suppressing a shiver.

    The gargoyle advanced, its taloned feet clicking against the stone tiles.

    "Leave this place. Now," it repeated, its voice low and threatening.

    "Hmm, no. Got no place to stay, no scratch for food, and I''m broke and tired. Wait... actually, I just picked up some coins from the bandits. Yeah, not broke... actually."

    The gargoyle stopped, its claws flexing.

    "Leave. Last warning," it rumbled.

    Aubrey''s gaze roamed the cathedral''s interior, observing the ruins, the abandoned pews, and the faded murals. The rational part of her mind screamed flee.

    But, something about this place made her feel... at home.

    "Actually... I think I''ll stay," Aubrey answered, her crimson gaze narrowing, challenging. "Don''t own this place, yeah? Got no lease and the rent''s free. So... I''ll crash here."

    The gargoyle''s expression shifted, its features contorting, the stone seeming to warp.

    "Defiance shall not go unpunished. Leave now," the creature growled.

    "Or what, Mr. Silent? Yell at me some more? Look, I''m beat and tired. Had a long day, yeah? I''m staying the night. Deal with it," Aubrey declared, folding her arms.

    The gargoyle loomed, its bulk casting a shadow over her. Its clawed hands clenched and relaxed, and its gaze grew baleful.

    "Leave, or I will make you leave," the creature threatened, its voice rising.

    "Ha, go ahead. Do your worst, statue. Push me out, I''ll just come crawling right back. See, I''m stubborn like that."

    "Then suffer the consequences," the gargoyle uttered, its glowing eyes flashing red as it charged, wings flared outward.

    Aubrey''s instincts reacted, her body moving before her mind registered the gargoyle''s words.

    Music surged in her mind¡ªa furious composition¡ªand the lines and marks appeared once more, tracing the gargoyle''s path.

    Her body, acting on pure instinct, sprang to the side, darting agilely as the gargoyle crashed upon the spot she once occupied, the cathedral floor fracturing and cracking under its weight.

    "Holy shit!" Aubrey yelped, landing, her gaze wide.

    Whirling, the gargoyle turned and sought her, its fists slamming into the ground, spraying shattered fragments of stone. Aubrey ducked, the debris pelting her harmlessly.

    Are gargoyles supposed to move like that?!

    Musical lines, pulsating and throbbing, encircled her, their trajectories signaling the creature''s upcoming attack.

    [Active Effect: Cadence Amidst Counterpoints (Passive Skill)]

    [Active Effect: Staccato Step (Passive Skill)]

    [Stacking Effects]

    "Fuck, fuck, fuck," Aubrey swore, her instincts screaming.

    Acting quickly, she dove, her body reacting with preternatural speed.

    The gargoyle''s strike missed, its claws tearing the air. Aubrey rolled upright, spinning and retreating, putting distance between her and the creature.

    An opportunity presented itself¡ªthe creature''s guard dropped as it regained its balance, its center of mass off-balance.

    In a blink of an eye, Aubrey''s fingers found a throwing knife hidden within her garter. She whipped it outward, aiming for the gargoyle''s exposed mark.

    The knife spun and flew, and the creature''s claws lashed out, smashing into the projectile. The blade splintered, shattering upon impact.

    [Missed Attack: "Fuori Tempo"]

    "Fuuuuck me, he''s fast," Aubrey gasped, incredulous, ducking as a piece of knife embedded itself into the stone behind her.

    The gargoyle didn''t allow her even a second to recover, lunging forward, closing the distance rapidly.

    The lines and patterns reappeared, and Aubrey bolted, narrowly avoiding a sweep of the creature''s arm. The gargoyle''s next swing grazed her, buffeting her with wind as it passed.

    She somersaulted farther away, maintaining distance.

    Circles, patterns, and trajectories appeared and faded as the music transitioned, the beat quickening to match the tempo of the gargoyle''s movements.

    Despite the danger, a grin split her lips as her eyes and ears tuned to the melody and rhythm, syncing to the cadences and the complex patterns of her foe.

    Forget the slow and somber dirge that accompanied the graverobbers, or the chaotic, cacophonic mess that the bandits'' actions evoked.

    Here, Aubrey witnessed a unique, complex rhythm unlike anything she''d ever encountered¡ªa sonata played with such ferocious precision that she found herself humming in tune, her lips mouthing the melody.

    This gargoyle, for lack of a better word, had fucking beats, and she loved it!

    It reminded her of one of her favorite concertos¡ªnot the whole piece, but one segment in particular.

    It wasn''t Mozart''s Rondo Alla Turca, or Vivaldi''s Allegro Non Molto from the Four Seasons, but rather Schubert''s Marche Militaire¡ªfast-paced and thrilling, where each movement struck with a sense of urgency.

    Like the Marche Militaire, the gargoyle''s rhythms featured alternating patterns of triplets and sixteenths, creating a flowing, martial cadence.

    Its attacks flowed smoothly, each step and strike precise, yet somehow retaining a fluid quality. There were no wasted motions, only relentless aggression.

    There was beauty in that rhythm.

    In another life, maybe she could be friends with the gargoyle instead of having to fight it.

    Unfortunately, that friendship wouldn''t manifest today¡ªnot with it actively trying to murder her.

    "Slow down, gargo! Take it easy!" Aubrey yelled, jumping nimbly as a fist slammed down where her head once occupied.

    The stone tile cracked, shattering underneath the force of the strike.

    That''d been too close for comfort, and her heart thudded loudly in her ears. Beads of sweat formed on her brow, trickling down her forehead, and she wiped them away impatiently.

    "Damn, this is hardcore," Aubrey exclaimed, scrambling away, desperately evading each attack.

    One moment, Aubrey sprung from one side; then in a flicker of motion, she switched sides, dancing like a blur to avoid a barrage of swift punches and swipes.

    Meanwhile, the music''s beat rose in intensity, evolving from the triplets and sixteenths earlier into thirty-second notes and sixty-fourths, each beat signifying a distinct threat to her survival.

    And that beat was wild, almost frenzied in its rapidity, fueled by the gargoyle''s growing impatience and irritation.

    The music urged her to respond in kind, and her body did, flowing with the beat, her feet tapping an intricate, swirling dance.

    Counterclockwise. Clockwise. Twisting and weaving, Aubrey avoided the gargoyle''s strikes.

    She unsheathed the shortsword at her hip, swinging wildly in time to the beat. It gleamed and whistled through the air, deflecting the creature''s claws in a shower of sparks.

    [Successful Parry: "Con Brio!"]

    The gargoyle lashed out with its wings, knocking Aubrey flat, sending her sword clattering onto the stone floor. She rolled away from another descending fist, narrowly escaping it by millimeters, the force of the strike buffeting her and kicking up dust.

    But right as she regained her footing, the shimmering line that indicated a strike coming her way flashed, and a clawed hand raced forward, smashing into her chest and throwing her against a column.

    Pain exploded across her ribs, and the air fled from her lungs, her breath caught in her throat.

    "Aauughhh!" Aubrey cried out, tumbling across the stone.

    Stars swam in her vision as she struggled to regain her senses. Dazed, she lay there, groaning, as she attempted to rise.

    The music abruptly stopped. Bright red warnings flashed before her eyes, overlayed on her vision.

    [Effect: Bruised (Moderate)]

    [Condition: Winded]

    [Condition: Staggered]

    "F-fuck..."

    But before she could stumble to her feet, a hand grasped her roughly, pinning her to the column. The gargoyle loomed over her, its molten gaze glaring down, its breath hot upon her cheeks.

    "Yield," the creature snarled, its voice a guttural growl.

    Aubrey stared back, defiant.

    "Not... likely," she replied, wheezing, her chest afire from the exertion.

    The gargoyle''s grip tightened, squeezing, its claws pricking her skin. Pain flared from her shoulders, and blood trickled down her neck, soaking into her dress.

    "I said yield," the creature commanded. "I warned you. This is your last chance."

    The pressure increased, and Aubrey gasped, struggling vainly against the vice-like grip. Her struggles only caused the claws to dig deeper, the pain becoming unbearable.

    "Go... choke on a rock..." Aubrey replied between gasps of pain. "Screw off, you... glorified lawn ornament."

    After a moment, the creature retracted its claws. It straightened and regarded her with a mixture of annoyance and bewilderment, its fiery gaze narrowing before finally letting out what sounded like a drawn-out sigh.

    Aubrey winced as the gargoyle slung her over its shoulder, its grip firm and unyielding. Its wings scraped the stone walls of the cathedral as it stalked toward the front entrance, Aubrey bobbing helplessly over its back.

    She struggled uselessly, thrashing in the creature''s grasp. Her bruised ribs throbbed painfully with every bounce and jostle.

    "Stop... stop it! Let me go! Fuck off, you stone-faced bastard!" Aubrey roared, her voice echoing throughout the cathedral.

    But the gargoyle ignored her, striding purposefully. The stained glass windows rushed past, and the cavernous expanse of the nave shrank behind them.

    "I''m not afraid of you! I''ll come right back, you know! You can''t keep me out! You don''t own this place either, asshole! Screw you! Just screw you!" Aubrey shouted.

    Without ceremony, the gargoyle reached the cathedral''s main doors, pushed them open, and tossed Aubrey outside. She tumbled and landed upon the cobblestones, sprawling.

    The doors slammed shut, and the sound of a bolt sliding home echoed faintly.

    Aubrey pushed herself upright, wincing at her battered ribs. She glanced around, noting that the street lay empty, devoid of people.

    Alone and defeated, she trudged slowly to the neighboring alley, slumping against the wall. She inspected the damage done to her attire: rips, tears, and stains everywhere.

    What a waste of a good dress.

    She sighed, frowning as she glared at the offending edifice. "I''m going to get that place if it''s the last thing I do. Mark my words, Mr. Gargoyle, I''m coming back."

    [You''ve gained a small amount of experience.]

    Really? Even though I lost? Huh... Well, that makes me feel a little better.

    The sun had sunk below the horizon, and dusk had settled upon the streets. The dying light cast long, grim shadows, shrouding the alleyway in gloom.

    A faint breeze swept through the alley, carrying upon its currents the scent of damp earth, rain, and...

    Wait, rain?

    The telltale patter of rain upon stone reverberated down the cobblestone street, followed by a loud crash as the sky opened up. Water fell like a deluge, soaking through the city and cascading into the nearby puddles.

    "You''ve got to be shitting me..."

    Aubrey closed her eyes, resigned to her fate as the rain pelted her mercilessly.

 Chapter 8: Rock and Role

    At around midnight, Aubrey awoke to the sensation of water dripping down the side of her face. She lifted her head, wiping her cheek with her palm, and peered up.

    Above her, a single cloud, illuminated by the full moon, drifted lazily through the sky, a silver halo of moonlight bathing its edges. The rain had subsided, leaving only puddles dotting the street, reflecting the silvery brilliance of the moon.

    Gingerly, she untangled herself from her crouching position and stretched, feeling the aches and soreness of her body.

    Somehow, she''d fallen asleep in the rain, sitting on the cold, wet, and dirty ground.

    Lovely.

    After taking stock of her possessions, she noted that all her belongings remained in place, fortunately. Not that she carried much. But at least her money and items were safe.

    Dismally, she plucked at her attire. Her dress, thoroughly soaked, clung to her curves, showing off everything. And the cold air nipped at her exposed skin.

    Great. Just great.

    Aubrey frowned, regarding the cathedral''s facade. It sat there, quiet and majestic, its spires piercing the night. Rising to her feet, she strode to the cathedral''s entrance. The massive door loomed, taunting her, and she gripped the handle and tugged.

    Locked.

    Next, she tried the side doors.

    Also locked.

    Frustrated, Aubrey kicked at the door. She immediately regretted the decision, wincing at the fresh stab of pain in her foot.

    "Fuck you, stupid gargoyle. We''re not done," Aubrey swore, glaring at the cathedral''s facade.

    For several minutes, she stood there, watching. Nothing stirred, nor did any lights appear in the windows.

    "Bastard''s probably sleeping on the job," Aubrey grumbled.

    If she wanted back inside, she needed to find an alternative access point. She began her search, inspecting the perimeter for alternate entrances.

    Her footsteps splashed against the rain-soaked cobblestone as she made her rounds around the cathedral. After ten minutes, she sighed, crestfallen.

    She could try scaling the walls, perhaps enter through a broken window or through a hole in the roof. Except... the rain probably compromised any holds or surfaces she could use, turning them slick and slippery.

    Or worse, crumbly.

    Plus, it looked high. As in, potentially lethal if she fell.

    Definitely a no-go.

    Finally, after circling the building, her gaze settled on a small, narrow stairwell at the back of the cathedral. At first, the steps seemed to descend into a pit or well, but then they turned and led downward, disappearing into a door.

    Maybe it''s an entrance to the lower levels. Or a cellar, or even a wine cellar.

    Aubrey eyed the staircase critically. Despite the rain, the steps appeared sturdy and solid. Confident, she descended into the depths below, stepping lightly and carefully, one hand resting on the stone railing.

    At the bottom, she discovered the door, standing slightly ajar. She nudged the door with her boot, and it groaned open, revealing a corridor beyond. An odor wafted through the doorway, smelling strongly of earth, mold, and dust.

    Pushing onward, she stepped through the doorway. Cobwebs dangled from the ceiling, and she brushed them aside, wincing at the tickle of gossamer threading across her face.

    Even though she shouldn''t be able to see in the dark, her eyes adjusted easily, the corridor''s details and layout readily apparent.

    Strange... but convenient. Must be another Banshee or Revenant thing.

    As she crept along the hallway, she examined her surroundings, noting that the walls consisted of crumbling brick and stonework, similar to the architecture of the upper level of the cathedral. The ceiling above dripped with moisture, and puddles of rainwater gathered on the uneven flooring.

    She felt disoriented, as though she''d entered a catacomb. A passage branched to the left, and then another to the right. At the end of the corridor, an iron gate barred the way.

    The gate, rusting and corroded, creaked loudly as she tugged at the bars. To her surprise, it swung inward, screeching on its rusted hinges.

    Aubrey paused, glancing around nervously. No sign of the gargoyle or anyone else. The coast remained clear, and she stepped through.

    Beyond, a stairwell spiraled upward, and she climbed the steps, her boots clicking softly. The sound echoed within the enclosure, ringing with each stride.

    Her fingers brushed against the hilt of her short sword and the dagger at her belt, their presence reassuring yet she knew all too well their ineffectiveness against the gargoyle''s stony hide.

    A door stood at the top of the stairs, and she pushed through, emerging into what looked like the transept of the cathedral.

    Empty wooden pews lined the side walls, while rows of columns reached upward to a vaulted ceiling. Muted moonlight streamed through the windows, falling upon the choir and apse.

    So far, so good. Seems deserted. Maybe Mr. Stoneface doesn''t live here after all...

    Aubrey walked quietly along the aisle, careful not to disturb the silence. Perhaps if she could gain access to a bed, a change of clothing, and some food, she could work on a plan for a counterattack.

    Revenge. Sweet revenge.

    Movement¡ªa whisper of noise¡ªcaught Aubrey''s ear, and she froze, straining her senses.

    She slowly turned to her right, focusing on a darkened alcove partially concealed by the pillars. The gloom shifted, and a figure detached itself from the darkness.

    Aubrey''s hand inched to her sword.

    It''s that stupid, gargoyl¡ª

    But before she could finish the thought, the gargoyle lunged, its wings flared wide.

    Surprised, Aubrey shrieked and backpedaled, slipping on the stone floor. In a tangle of arms and legs, she tumbled backward, smashing into a pew.

    Dazed, she glanced up at the gargoyle, its eyes aglow as it glared down at her.

    "You again..." the gargoyle uttered, his voice tinged with disbelief. "How¡ª"

    "Came through the basement! The door''s unlocked, by the way," Aubrey snapped, righting herself as she drew her sword.

    The gargoyle watched her, unmoving. His expression conveyed annoyance as if she were some bothersome child needing scolding.

    "You aren''t welcome here," the gargoyle said, his tone low and threatening.

    "Neither are you. Gargoyles should be outside, on a roof, not inside."

    "Foolish woman, I guard this sacred place," the gargoyle spoke, advancing until he towered over her. "Do not mistake my patience for benevolence. Now, leave."

    Aubrey readied her blade, shifting into a defensive posture. Already, the music emerged, a familiar composition taking shape in her mind. "Nope. I told you, I''m staying. Guess we do things the hard way."

    "Again? Hmph, a shame," the gargoyle remarked, spreading his wings. "Well, have it your way."

    <hr>

    As the gargoyle moved, a rhythm took shape, patterns and lines converging in her mind. Aubrey leaped aside, dancing out of reach of a sweeping wing and a lashing claw.

    "Good reflexes," the gargoyle observed. "Yet you can only dodge for so long."

    Aubrey bit back a reply, focusing instead on evading and parrying the creature''s attacks. The music swelled, and her limbs acted, obeying the command, her body moving with a smoothness that surprised even herself.

    Despite her lack of formal training, she''d learned to adapt, picking up the basics from what she''d witnessed from the bandit''s encounter earlier.

    Like then, she used her nimbleness and speed to her advantage, trusting her instincts and foresight to guide her through the fight.

    [Stacking Effect: Staccato Step]

    The gargoyle lashed out with a claw, but Aubrey, guided by the patterns, sidestepped the attack. Then she pivoted, bringing her weapon down, striking with the full momentum of her body.

    Her blade struck true, but the edge rebounded off his stony hide, gouging out a chip with a spark but otherwise inflicting no significant damage.

    Her foe turned, retaliating with an uppercut. Aubrey jumped back, avoiding the blow, then slashed at his leg as the creature pivoted, catching the gargoyle''s limb at its mid-calf.

    Another chunk of stone broke off, and the gargoyle staggered, recovering quickly.

    "Careless," the creature growled, and launched himself into the air, taking flight with a mighty beat of his wings.

    He circled the hall, then descended, the wind of his passage ruffling Aubrey''s hair and clothes.

    Once more, the patterns and lines revealed the gargoyle''s approach, and Aubrey ducked beneath the arc of a wing, dodging its swipe. In retaliation, she brought her blade up, striking the joint where his wing met his back.

    The tip cut shallowly, but the gargoyle snarled, turning and lunging.

    His elbow, leading with a sharpened spike, caught her off guard, and the blow sent her flying, tumbling her into the nearby pews.

    Wood shattered under the impact, and she stumbled, crashing to the stone floor.

    [Effect: Bleeding (minor)]

    [Condition: Winded]

    [Condition: Staggered]

    Aubrey grunted, her arms and legs smarting from the tumble. A glance revealed a gash on her thigh, her skirt ripped and bloody.

    Groaning, she rose to a knee, her ears ringing. Grit, from the smashed pew, clung to her hair, and her injuries stung from where splinters pierced her flesh.

    Stolen story; please report.

    The gargoyle grabbed her by the hair, hauling her upright. Pain flared on her scalp, and her eyes watered as she gasped in surprise and shock.

    With a heave, the gargoyle flung her against a nearby pillar. Aubrey bounced off the unforgiving stone, dropping to the ground once more.

    The world spun, and her head swam, but through the haze, the gargoyle''s imposing presence registered, and she instinctively crawled away. The gargoyle stalked behind her, looming over her, the sound of grinding stone marking each step.

    "Don''t get up," the gargoyle instructed, his voice cold and distant. "Don''t come back, and leave me to my task."

    Aubrey spat, tasting blood from her lip, which now split. With a groan, she struggled, pushing herself upright.

    "Fuck y¡ªargh!"

    Before she could stand, the gargoyle placed a heavy foot on her back, pinning her to the stone floor.

    "I said don''t get up," the gargoyle advised, his voice terse. "You won''t survive another round. Are you ready to leave peacefully?"

    Aubrey''s cheek rested against the cold stone, and the weight of the gargoyle''s foot pressed down, grinding her painfully into the ground. She groaned, her voice muffled.

    "Fine, fine, damn you," Aubrey conceded, her voice strained. "Let me up, I''ll leave, and we can call it quits. Happy?"

    After a pause, the gargoyle relented. "Very well."

    The gargoyle''s weight lifted, and Aubrey inhaled a deep breath, coughing. Wincing, she clambered to her feet, her body aching and protesting the movement. Blood trickled down her temple and her nose, and she wiped it away, her palm streaked red.

    Aubrey limped past the gargoyle, her gaze averted. Once she was several paces away, she made a mad dash to one of the side doors, cackling triumphantly.

    "Sucker! Serves you right!" Aubrey called out, flipping the gargoyle the finger before shoving the door open and lurching inside. She slammed the door and leaned against it, panting.

    Idiot.

    Through the wood, the gargoyle''s footsteps approached. Aubrey''s heart skipped, and she retreated, frantically searching the room.

    No windows, no exits.

    Shit, shit, shit!

    She eyed the sacristy''s furnishings: a dusty old table, some chairs, and a large cabinet. Aubrey yanked the cabinet open, hoping for a miracle.

    Instead, her gaze met a large hole in the cabinet''s rear wall.

    Huh, weird.

    Curiosity overcame her fear, and Aubrey stuck her head inside, peering through the hole. Beyond, a hidden passage extended¡ªits dimensions barely big enough to fit her, stretching into the darkness.

    A tunnel. Guess there''s my miracle.

    Outside, the door rattled, and the gargoyle''s voice resounded: "Woman, come out. Stop hiding."

    Ignoring him, Aubrey squeezed through the hole, wriggling awkwardly. Her chest scraped against the rough stone, and her wounds protested, but she persisted.

    A moment later, she tumbled out, sprawling in a dark, narrow chamber.

    Behind her, the cabinet shuddered, and the gargoyle''s voice continued, exasperated, "Enough games. Come back, or else¡ª"

    Aubrey grinned, rising to her feet. A pale light suffused the room, emanating from a strange, glowing crystal embedded in the ceiling.

    Around her, the chamber bristled with artifacts and treasures. Aubrey gazed at the sight, her eyes widening. Weapons, jewelry, and other objects filled the room.

    To her left, a suit of armor stood, gleaming, its metal plate etched with intricate engravings. To her right, a shield hung on the wall, its surface embossed with the likeness of a winged lion.

    Amidst the treasures, Aubrey spotted a sword¡ªan enchanted blade, judging by its luminous pommel. Its steel reflected the crystal''s glow, illuminating its delicate filigree and runes.

    This looks promising...

    Aubrey limped toward the sword, and as she neared, a ping resounded in her mind. Her gaze shifted to her right, and that''s when she saw it: an old acoustic guitar, its body adorned with intricate carvings and inlaid with mother-of-pearl, half-embedded into the stone wall.

    Wait. Is that...?

    Her heart skipped, and longing swelled inside. Slowly, she hobbled over, her gaze fixated.

    Another ping chimed, louder and clearer.

    Aubrey reached for the guitar, her fingertips brushing its wooden fretboard. She grasped the neck and gently, reverentially, pulled the instrument free.

    Something clicked inside her¡ªas if a missing piece, long thought lost, returned.

    Is this...?

    Her hands wrapped around its worn, familiar contours, fitting perfectly, as though reunited with a cherished friend.

    Oh god, yes...

    Then Aubrey''s gaze trailed to the strings, her fingers tracing their fraying, rusting coils. Looks neglected... and worn. Probably doesn''t work.

    Aubrey shook her head, shaking away the disappointment. Of course, it''s broken. Why would this guitar, of all things, be preserved in such a nice condition?

    But she couldn''t ignore the yearning, the emptiness, left unanswered.

    God, I miss playing...

    As she plucked a string, a note rang forth, resonant and pure, echoing sweetly in the chamber.

    The strings began to glow, pulsating with energy, as if revived. Aubrey marveled, transfixed, as the guitar''s body rippled, transforming before her very eyes.

    Its wood darkened, deepening to a rich, warm auburn, while the frets brightened, shining like polished ivory. The fretboard gleamed, and the tuning pegs reformed, now forged from gleaming gold.

    The headstock thickened, the tuning pegs recessed, while the guitar''s pickguard elongated, extending outward, forming a razor-sharp ridge.

    But it was the guitar''s body, or axe-for-body, that captured her attention. Its contours narrowed, smoothing and thinning, and the guitar''s width widened, its newly formed metallic ridges and spikes lending the instrument a fearsome, industrial aesthetic.

    The guitar''s bridge transformed, becoming a wicked-looking tremolo, while a newly formed switch nestled beside the volume knobs.

    Aubrey flicked the switch, and the guitar hummed, a faint glow suffusing its contours. She traced a thumb over the now-polished and pristine fretboard, her fingers finding their places.

    With her index finger, she plucked another string, and a chord resounded.

    "Holy fuck," Aubrey breathed, astonished, her eyes wide.

    Then she strummed, reveling as the notes harmonized, her mind and body remembering.

    It''s the same... She recognized the similarities to a guitar from her era.

    But not just any guitar¡ªthe guitar¡ªher prized custom 1958 Gibson Korina Explorer. The instrument she''d treasured most.

    Except now, it''s transformed, into a sleek, menacing, and enhanced battle-axe.

    Holy shit...

    Another ping resonated, and a system prompt materialized, its text shimmering and hovering before her.

    [Hidden Quest "Strum in the Stone" completed]

    [You have acquired a moderate amount of experience]

    [Reward: Legendary Guitar "Hellion''s Cry" obtained]

    Hellion''s Cry? Aubrey chuckled, grinning at the pun. How fitting...

    More system notifications flashed, and Aubrey skimmed the messages, her attention settling on the guitar.

    [Equipment: Hellion''s Cry: Legendary Battle Axe Guitar (Rank S)]

    [4 out of 12 abilities unlocked]

    [Thraunquill - Launches ethereal blades towards enemies, causing piercing damage with a chance to silence spellcasters; Drawback: consumes a portion of your energy with each use; Cooldown: 30 seconds]

    [Zyphrendil - Conjures a shield of sonic vibrations that deflects physical and magical attacks; Duration: 12 seconds; Drawback: While active, you cannot move from your position; Cooldown: 45 seconds]

    [Lumivox - Reveals hidden traps, enemies, and magical illusions within a ten-meter radius; Duration: 5 seconds; Drawback: Makes you more visible to others; Cooldown: 15 seconds]

    [Vibrakeld - Emits vibrations that knock down and stun creatures within a ten-meter radius; Duration: 4 seconds (stun); Drawback: Also affects allies in the vicinity; Cooldown: 35 seconds]

    Aubrey whistled, her eyebrows raised. That''s a lot of abilities...

    She strummed the strings, marveling at its enhanced resonance and clarity.

    [Note: Each ability will consume a fraction of Hellion''s Cry''s innate charge. Charge regenerates at a rate of one every hour.]

    [Current charges remaining: 24/100]

    Hellion''s Cry hummed, its strings radiating a pleasant warmth and energy. Aubrey stroked the strings, smiling as the vibrations caressed her fingertips.

    God, it''s good to play again...

    She plucked the strings, letting her fingers explore. Notes flowed, and Aubrey swayed, humming, her heart singing. She ran her hands lovingly along the contours of her guitar-axe.

    Such a beaut.

    That sword might as well have been just a piece of twig compared to the gorgeous and deadly axe she now wielded.

    She looked back at the hole behind the cabinet, spotting the gargoyle''s lumbering presence, its bulk obscuring the view. Aubrey smirked and flipped her middle finger¡ªnot that the gargoyle could see¡ªbefore limping back towards the passage.

    Hey, ugly. Better watch out because I''m armed and dangerous now...

    She plucked at Hellion''s Cry''s strings, activating the guitar''s Thraunquill ability. Waves of silver-blue spectral blades hurtled towards the gargoyle, knocking the creature back and shattering the hole and cabinet.

    Shards of wood and stone flew, and the chamber shuddered, raining debris. Aubrey shielded her eyes, coughing, as dust and smoke billowed.

    When the dust settled, Aubrey lowered her arm and squinted through the haze, spotting the gargoyle slumped against a heap of rubble, stunned and wounded.

    Gotcha.

    Grinning, Aubrey limped forward, stepping through the gap.

    The gargoyle struggled upright, its gaze fixed upon her with wide, incredulous eyes.

    "Impossible..." the gargoyle breathed.

    As she neared, Aubrey strummed, conjuring Vibrakeld. Sonic waves pulsed, knocking the gargoyle prone. Aubrey stood over the creature, her guitar-axe leveled, its edge glinting.

    "Payback''s a bitch, isn''t it, rockhead?" Aubrey gloated.

    She swung, the axe poised for a killing blow. Yet as Aubrey stared into the gargoyle''s unwavering gaze, she hesitated, her arm faltering.

    Those eyes...

    The gargoyle''s orbs held no malice, no anger, but a quiet reverence. Aubrey couldn''t explain why, but she had seen that look before... from fans who either met her for the first time, or those by the front row who watched her perform on stage.

    It''s the look of¡ªadmiration?

    Slowly, Aubrey lowered her axe, her gaze still fixed upon the gargoyle.

    "Who... or maybe what, are you?" the gargoyle asked, his voice strained.

    "My name''s Aubrey," she replied, sighing. "And I''m a banshee, apparently."

    The gargoyle stood, gingerly straightening, his wings drooping, and his limbs hanging listlessly. His gaze traveled from the guitar, then to her, his eyes wide and awed.

    "I see," the gargoyle''s words emerged soft. He dipped his head, his demeanor submissive. "I have witnessed and experienced proof that the relic has chosen you, Aubrey. Forgive my transgressions."

    "Proof? Chosen me?" Aubrey blinked, her eyebrow raised. "What are you talking about?"

    The gargoyle nodded to the guitar. "You possess Hellion''s Cry. You are the first worthy in ages, a bearer of its sacred burden."

    "First worthy... I''m a banshee. Pretty sure I''m damned, not blessed."

    "Damned or not, Hellion''s Cry would not accept someone unworthy." The gargoyle inclined his head, his demeanor subdued. "I offer my apologies. I mistook you for a thief and an intruder. My duty compelled me to resist, but now, seeing you and the relic, I know."

    "Know what?"

    "That I should serve," the gargoyle bowed deeply. "Name it, and I will fulfill my duties, and honor my vows."

    "Uh, hold up." Aubrey backed away, taken aback. "Service and vows? What the hell are you talking about?"

    Confusion flickered across the gargoyle''s features, his brow furrowed. "Your retainer, I presume?"

    "Retainer? Hold on. Backtrack, okay?" Aubrey massaged the bridge of her forehead.

    Her fight for her survival had unexpectedly turned into an unexpected and absurd negotiation session.

    "Okay, let''s start over." Aubrey pointed to the gargoyle. "Name, introduction, status report. Make it quick."

    "Status... as retainer, sworn servant, and protector, Milady," the gargoyle straightened, his gaze meeting hers. "My name is Cedric Undergloom, and my role, since times long past, is the guardian of the cathedral and the keeper of the relic, Hellion''s Cry."

    "Guardian, huh? Nice. Guardian of the cathedral..." Aubrey regarded the chamber and its wealth, her eyebrow raised. "...keeper of the relic, eh? You seem more like a treasurer, a glorified janitor, and a rent-a-cop. Who''s the cathedral''s owner anyway?"

    "Long ago, this sanctuary belonged to the followers of the Sovereign Incantatrix. But after the goddess'' prolonged silence, the cathedral fell into ruin, and the faithful scattered or departed, Hellion''s Cry''s care fell to me. Only a wielder capable, deserving, and worthy can claim the title and honor of its rightful heir."

    "Huh... interesting." Aubrey regarded her axe, stroking the strings. "So, Hellion''s Cry belongs to me, and I can boss you around, or whatever?"

    "Yes, Milady."

    "Hmm..." Aubrey smiled, amused and intrigued. "Milady, eh? Okay, I can dig that."

    She pursed her lips, studying the gargoyle. Looks sincere, especially after the whole apologetic display, kneeling, and offering-service shtick. Could definitely use an ally, or retainer, whatever.

    She pointed Hellion''s Cry at the gargoyle and addressed him imperiously, doing her best posh English accent: "All right, Cedric Undergloom, I dub thee, ''my retainer.'' Swear fealty. And I want breakfast and dinner, a bath, clean clothes, and a comfy bed."

    Surprisingly, it came out naturally to her¡ªthe accent and authoritarian speech pattern. Must be from her other memories and personality from this world...

    "As you wish, Milady," Cedric Undergloom dropped obediently onto a knee, a fist raised to his chest.

    "Good. Glad that''s settled. Now rise, retainer." Aubrey gestured magnanimously. "Also, I changed my mind. Stop calling me ''Milady'' sounds too stuffy."

    "Then how shall I refer to you?"

    "Boss, or Aubrey. Whichever." Aubrey waved dismissively. "Now, I''m tired, bruised, and battered. Show me around, find me a room, and draw me a bath."

    "By your command."

    "Excellent, Ceddy. Lead the way." Aubrey yawned, fatigue and exhaustion settling in.

    She glanced at the guitar-axe cradled in her arm and strummed the strings idly, pleased, her mood considerably improved.

    Things just got a little brighter¡­

 Chapter 9: Bolts, Beats, and Brass

    Over the next few days, Aubrey recuperated and explored the cathedral, getting to know its ins and outs. The attic above the transept housed a sizeable bedroom, a storage room, and a study. A couple of smaller bedrooms branched off from the upper hallway outside the attic stairwell.

    One of the rooms overlooked the cathedral''s main floor from the balcony¡ªwhat must have been a private box for the wealthy and privileged back in its heyday.

    As for the cathedral''s basement levels and its secret passage, they led into a network of tunnels and underground chambers. According to Cedric, the basement had served as a crypt during the cathedral''s functioning years. Now, it stored a sizeable stockpile of items, artifacts, and various supplies.

    There were also remnants from the cathedral''s former glory¡ªwooden pews, religious statuary, and altar fixtures that sat collecting dust.

    Turns out, Cedric Undergloom had a humorous side¡ªdry wit and deadpan delivery.

    "You could say, we gargoyles have a ''Stone'' personality," the gargoyle commented.

    Wow... that one almost sent her back into the grave, pun included. Aubrey rolled her eyes, groaning.

    But Ceddy proved a useful assistant, and a diligent custodian. The gargoyle tidied and maintained the cathedral''s interior, cleaning and fixing the structural damage caused by Aubrey''s arrival and their brief brawl. He possesed some sort of earth magic, enabling him to manipulate stone, repairing surfaces and structures.

    A handy skill, considering the state of the cathedral.

    Additionally, Ceddy cooked, preparing Aubrey''s meals. Though, the fare proved simple and plain. Mostly stews, soups, and gruels, or dried meat and jerky. Where''d he find the ingredients? She didn''t care enough to ask. As long as it looked, smelled, and tasted edible, Aubrey had no complaints.

    Best part, the gargoyle''s culinary skills didn''t involve rocks, moss, lichen, or gravel.

    On the third day, after her meal, Ceddy escorted her to a large bathing chamber under the cathedral. Within, a tub carved into the stone, resembling a mini-hot spring, stood. Steam issued, and the water beckoned invitingly.

    Fresh, heated water continually circulated and replenished the tub. Aubrey suspected Ceddy utilized his stone magic, or it could be plumbing, steam, and boiling systems, or the supernatural equivalent.

    Whatever kept the tub consistently replenished, Aubrey approved.

    Bathing in near-scalding waters soothed her aches and stiff muscles, washing away her wounds. Additionally, a shelf contained an assortment of soaps, lotions, and shampoo, crafted from a combination of oils, essences, and floral extracts.

    "Did you make these?" Aubrey inquired, eyeing the bottles.

    "Yes," the gargoyle affirmed. "While maintaining the cathedral, I forage the surrounding forest."

    "Neat." Aubrey picked one bottle, popped the cork, and sniffed the contents. Smells heavenly. She dabbed a finger, rubbing the concoction. The substance''s consistency reminded her of a lotion, or cream. "These are great, Ceddy."

    "Thank you, Aubrey," the gargoyle inclined his head. "They are modest, yet sufficient. Use however much suits your fancy."

    "Will do."

    And oh, boy, did she. After scrubbing, lathering, and sudsing, Aubrey luxuriated, wallowing in the steaming, perfumed waters.

    For the first time since her... reincarnation? Resurrection? Whatever. Aubrey felt pampered.

    Sure, the accommodations and amenities ranked primitive compared to her previous life, but Aubrey didn''t complain. Hell, she didn''t have the luxury to, and frankly, didn''t care.

    Afterward, Ceddy provided fresh clothes. Nothing glamorous or stylish¡ªjust a simple shift, blouse, and breeches. The dress she''d worn earlier, torn and stained, Ceddy disposed of.

    Too bad. Aubrey kind of liked the outfit.

    Oh, well.

    Thus, began her new routine: Wake up, lounge around, eat, explore, bathe, and repeat.

    In between, Aubrey experimented with her guitar-axe, Hellion''s Cry, testing its capabilities and limits.

    Thraunquill launched spectral blades, Zyphrendil conjured a temporary sonic-shield, Vibrakeld emitted stunning vibrations, and Lumivox revealed hidden things. Each ability consumed a portion of her guitar-axe''s finite charge. So, no overuse unless Aubrey desired a recharge.

    Each ability also possessed a cooldown. Meaning, Aubrey couldn''t spam them repeatedly without a delay.

    There was one thing that puzzled her about the guitar-axe: how the hell did it produce sound without being connected to an amp?

    Guess the guitar-axe utilized magic. Maybe a built-in amplifier? Or speakers?

    Regardless, Aubrey could play, and the guitar-axe operated similarly to the original. But its redesigned, axe-inspired body took some getting used to holding without cutting herself. She had to adjust her fingering techniques to accommodate Hellion''s Cry''s modified fretboard, thicker strings, sharper ridges, and blade-like pickup.

    Luckily, Aubrey''s prior experience and skills helped her learn fast. After a couple of days, her proficiency returned, her muscle memory and dexterity adjusting and adapting.

    On the fifth day, Aubrey''s boredom prompted her to return outside.

    "Hey, Ceddy, wanna come with me?" Aubrey hollered down the cathedral''s entranceway, where the gargoyle polished the floor.

    "We are Unhallowed," Ceddy answered, his brush methodically gliding across the stone floor. "Our existence is a bane to others, and zealots such as the Cogsworn Order seek to purge the likes of us."

    Ah. She had almost forgotten about that name. The graverobbers and the cemetery caretaker mentioned them, didn''t they? There was also another group¡ªthe Twilight Cabal...

    "Cogsworn Order, huh? Never heard of ''em," Aubrey shrugged, approaching her retainer. She adjusted the guitar-axe''s strap, Hellion''s Cry resting comfortably over her shoulder. "But you''re probably right. You look scary. Meanwhile, I look fabulous."

    "Indeed," Ceddy concurred, continuing his polishing. "Your presence alone may attract unwanted attention."

    "Great. Stay here, guard the cathedral. Keep the home fires burning," Aubrey ordered. "Maybe I''ll bring you a souvenir. Got anything you like?"

    "A bundle of Dreamleaf would prove welcome."

    Dreamleaf? Sounds psychedelic, or medicinal. She searched her memories for what it could be, and a fragment of one belonging to the version of her native to this world surfaced. Ah, that''s Dreamleaf, a mildly hallucinogenic plant with sedative and relaxing properties.

    Wait... wasn''t that just Cannabis?

    "Why do you need Dreamleaf anyway?" Aubrey arched an eyebrow.

    "Because I want to get..." Cedric tilted his head slightly to glance at her with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "...stoned."

    "Huuurrgggh." Aubrey groaned, staggering and clutching her chest, theatrically. "Never change, Ceddy. Just... never change. Fine. Dreamleaf it is."

    "Thank you, Aubrey. Be safe."

    <hr>

    Aubrey''s boots crunched on the soot-strewn cobblestones as she threaded her way back to the Ironworks district. Above, the sky remained cloudy, though thankfully, no rain fell.

    Yet.

    Along the way, Aubrey encountered several passersby¡ªa handful of wagons and pedestrians traveling between districts. A trio of roving merchants selling goods stopped to hawk their wares, one of them attempting to sell Aubrey a charm pendant.

    "Madame, wouldst thou blesseth thyself with the finest protection amulets in Mordenstradt?" a portly, bald man greeted, his teeth stained yellow and rotten. "Crafted by the renowned alchemist-turned-artificer, none beset thine presence with the esteemed protections offered only by the humble merchant, Jebediah Ollander, Esquire!"

    "Move along," Aubrey waved him off.

    Undeterred, the salesman presented a necklace with a shiny metal disc, stamped with a strange symbol.

    Stolen novel; please report.

    "Behold, the symboleth of the Holy See, imbuedeth with powerful warding magics!" the salesman brandished his pendant. "One measly sovereign, and thee receiveth thineself the favoreth of the High Clergotht and the blessingeth of the Holy See''s divine proclamations and theological proclivities."

    This annoying piece of...

    Aubrey grabbed him by the collar and pulled him close.

    "Listen, you fleabitten huckster," Aubrey snarled. "If you value your balls, shove the sermon up your ass and sell elsewhere, or I''ll shove your own pendant so far up your ass, you''ll be shitting holy protection charms. Got it, Jeb the charlatan esquire?" Aubrey''s nails dug threateningly into his clothing.

    "Eyaagh!" Jebediah the alchemist-artificer Esquire shrieked, his face blanching.

    "Scram!" Aubrey released him, and the merchant bolted, his wagon creaking and lopsided.

    Well, that''s taken care of...

    "Excuseth! Madame, art thou in searcheth of rare and valuable potions and elixirs?" Another hawker, a lanky, hook-nosed, and bald man, attempted. "Thou hath foundeth the one, the only, Horace Bottomsley, Apothecarial Adventurer, Adventurer Potioneer!"

    Aubrey glared, and Horace Bottomsley the apothecary and adventurer potioneer wisely fled, his wagon rattling as his cart careened down the street, its wheels screeching.

    Yeah, scram, ya scammer.

    Third time''s the charm. Aubrey eyed the last merchant, her eyebrow raised.

    "Ma''am, wouldst thou¡ª"

    Aubrey sighed and walked past, ignoring the hawker, who promptly abandoned his efforts, driving his wagon away, his wares clacking and rattling.

    She continued on her wandering.

    <hr>

    The cacophony of industry¡ªhammers striking anvils, steam hissing from pipes, gears grinding against each other¡ªfilled the air, and the smell of coal smoke permeated.

    Aubrey followed a winding road, the street thronging with people and machinery, past workshops, and smithies. Here, the locals conducted a lively trade in parts, scrap, and labor.

    A sign depicting a cogwheel crossed with a hammer swung outside a workshop. Inside, Aubrey spied several artificers and technicians working on projects: assembling contraptions, crafting clockwork mechanisms, and calibrating gadgets.

    A pair of guards patrolled the street, their heavy armor clanking, a small smokestack jutting from each soldier''s helmet. The guards halted any potential miscreants, inspecting packages and crates, searching wagons and carts.

    Damn, these guys mean business...

    Aubrey avoided eye contact and blended into the crowd, inconspicuously sidling past the guards, who paid her no heed.

    After spending half the day roaming around with no particular destination in mind, her meandering led her to the edge of the district, where the clatter and din of industry subsided, replaced by derelict and ramshackle structures.

    This looks promising.

    Aubrey traversed a narrow, cobbled road, her steps slowing, her ears and eyes alert. The area looked less inhabited, with fewer pedestrians and far fewer people to blend in with.

    The sun neared the horizon, the dark gray clouds thickening, and a cold drizzle started to fall. In the distance, thunder rumbled, and the wind whistled.

    An odd ping resonated within, and she sensed a familiar tug, like an invisible tether pulling her. Aubrey paused, gazing upward at a nondescript building by the alley.

    It... looks different from the rest.

    Aubrey studied the structure''s fa?ade and its weathered and cracked surface, its bricks grimy and soot-covered. A half-collapsed wooden staircase led to a doorway, its entrance boarded.

    The tug grew insistent, compelling her to approach. Then another ping echoed, louder and more urgent than before.

    Aubrey stepped off the cobblestone street onto the sidewalk, her boots splashing through puddles and muck. At the building''s side, she noticed a narrow opening¡ªan arched doorway partially obscured by a ragged curtain of dangling strips of cloth and steel wire.

    Before she could move the cloth aside, a distant, muffled pounding reverberated. Aubrey cocked her head, listening intently. The rhythmic tapping seemed to emanate from within.

    ? Bum! Tap, bum-da-bum-bum-tap! Bum, tap, bum-da-bum-ta-taptap! ?

    It sounded like...

    Drums.

    Is someone practicing?

    Without further thought, Aubrey parted the curtain and opened the door, the rusty hinges squealing in protest.

    A narrow corridor led to a stairwell. The drums'' source resided above, the music growing louder with each step.

    Aubrey ascended the stairs, the drums'' volume increasing. She reached the landing, and a wooden door loomed ahead, its surface pocked and scarred, its surface smudged with grime and soot. The sound of drumming emanated from behind.

    Aubrey pressed her ear against the door and listened.

    The drums'' beat intensified, and the sound of cymbals crashed, mixing with the steady thrum of the drums.

    What the... Aubrey gripped the handle and turned the knob. The door creaked open, the drums'' volume escalating. She peered through the crack.

    A figure of brass and copper sat behind a drum set. It wore a top hat perched at a jaunty angle, its rim frayed and peeling. Its body, gleaming and burnished, stood hunched over a set of drums.

    In its mechanical hands, the automaton wielded drumsticks, its arms ratcheting and whirring as they moved. The automaton''s legs pumped the pedals, keeping time with the relentless tempo.

    With each beat, a mechanical whirr and click resounded. Aubrey could feel the vibrations in the floorboards and through her boots.

    Its drum set appeared cobbled together, its construction a haphazard and improvised fusion of scrapped parts, discarded bits, and salvaged gears and pistons.

    Yet, the automaton played, its beats, intricate and technical.

    Aubrey''s jaw dropped, her eyes widening as the automaton executed a rapid, syncopated fill. Its sticks blurred and the drum set shuddered and quaked.

    Holy shit...

    She inched closer, enchanted.

    With a final crashing flourish, the automaton ended its song, the cymbal ringing, its bass pedal undulating.

    "Bravo!" Aubrey clapped and whistled.

    With a wir and a hiss, the automaton pivoted, regarding her with glass, compound optics that whirled, zooming in and focusing.

    "Oh, uh, hi," Aubrey waved. "Sorry. Didn''t mean to barge in. But that was an awesome drum solo. Seriously rad beats, and that fill and double-bass, and¡ªwoah!"

    The automaton leapt towards her, its brass feet clicking and its arms outstretched. Aubrey ducked a wild swing, the automaton''s drumstick narrowly missing her.

    "Calm the fuck down!" Aubrey somersaulted, rolling beneath another blow.

    Music filled her mind¡ªa wild, percussive barrage of beats and fills. Shimmering lines and pulsating marks trailed in the automaton''s wake, tracing its movements. Her ears perceived the automaton''s blows as notes and measures.

    ? Bam-bap-bap-tap-clank-plink! ?

    Aubrey ducked and dodged, her footwork matching the tempo and the beats. She pivoted and swerved, avoiding the automaton''s flailing sticks, each near miss sounding a satisfying note.

    "Cut it out!" Aubrey cried, narrowly avoiding a blow.

    The automaton pursued her, its brass feet ratcheting and clanking.

    Aubrey dove through an adjoining doorway, the automaton hot on her heels. They careened down a cluttered room. Books and tomes lay strewn. Furniture¡ªcabinets, chairs, and a desk, stood rotting. Papers littered the floor.

    She vaulted over a table, evading the automaton, which crashed through, sending splinters and sawdust flying.

    "Shit, you persistent bucket of bolts!"

    She had no choice...

    Hellion''s Cry.

    Time to shut your tin ass the fuck down.

    Aubrey pivoted, plucking the strings and activating Vibrakeld. Sonic waves buffeted the automaton, blowing the brass construct off its feet and slamming it against the wall.

    "Ha!" Aubrey pointed her axe triumphantly.

    The automaton landed upright, and shook itself, readying for a renewed assault. It holstered its drumsticks and spread its arms, its digits lengthening and sharpening into knife blades.

    Uh oh...

    Aubrey scrambled away as the automaton darted toward her, its digits now gleaming daggers. She avoided one strike, then a second, ducking and twisting.

    The third barely missed her head, and Aubrey backpedaled. The fourth one slashed her arm, leaving a shallow gash.

    "Augh!" Aubrey winced, gripping her wound. Damn, that hurt!

    The automaton advanced, stabbing and slashing. Aubrey parried one jab, but another stabbed her leg, forcing her to kneel. The automaton reared, raising its knife-fingers high.

    A pulsing cue flashed in her vision¡ªthe hint for a critical timing for a counterattack.

    I got this.

    Aubrey jumped to her feet and punched the mark by instinct, triggering a shockwave that slammed the automaton back.

    [Skill: "Shove of the Heartbeat''s Force" Activated! Cooldown: 8 seconds]

    The automaton landed and charged. Aubrey blocked one strike with her guitar-axe. She caught a glancing blow on her shoulder. Pain shot down her arm.

    She retaliated with a slash of her own, catching the automaton in its midsection, a visible dent marring its gleaming body.

    Another glowing cue shone in her sight, and she struck, a series of blows rained onto the automaton. More dents formed in its body, and it staggered back.

    Not enough damage, though.

    Aubrey rolled under a roundhouse kick, the automaton''s brass boot-heel cracking the wooden floorboards. She dashed back and unleashed a salvo of strikes¡ªslashes and chops. The dents and chips deepened.

    Did she really have to destroy this automaton? It played such good music...

    "Parley! Parley, dammit!" Aubrey pleaded.

    The automaton froze mid-kick as if contemplating her words. It tilted its head to one side.

    "Look... you play fucking amazing drums." Aubrey slung Hellion''s Cry across her back and raised her hands in a placating gesture.

    The automaton lowered its leg, and regarded her, its lenses focusing and zooming.

    "So, if there''s a way we could, I dunno, talk this out..." Aubrey suggested.

    A moment passed... and the battle music began to die down in her mind. The glowing cues and musical patterns also faded from her vision.

    Okay. So far so good...

    She took a step forward.

    The automaton retracted its blades into normal digits.

    Aubrey extended a hand, slowly walking toward the construct. "See? We don''t have to fight."

    The automaton tilted its head the other way and studied her, the clicks and whirs of its gears and servos filling the air.

    "That''s it... nice and easy." Aubrey murmured softly, her palm still outstretched. "I''m Aubrey. A fellow musician. I come in peace."

    The automaton reciprocated her gesture and extended its brass limb.

    Gotcha... Aubrey grinned. "Let''s¡ª"

    Just as its mechanical hand reached hers, it clenched into a fist and drove an uppercut into her chin before the single note of the battle music resumed in her mind.

    CRACK!

    Aubrey¡¯s head snapped back and she saw stars. Her knees buckled and the world spun. She crashed onto the floor and a dark haze enveloped her consciousness.

    [You¡¯ve acquired a small amount of experience.]

 Chapter 10: Verily, A Musical Accord

    Consciousness returned slowly. Aubrey''s awareness gradually returned as she swam through a murky haze. Gradually the darkness receded and shapes and forms emerged.

    Blurry images coalesced into a brass and copper figure. Her hearing cleared and she perceived a faint ticking and whirr.

    "Uuuugnnh... why," Aubrey croaked, her jaw aching, and her skull throbbing. Her blurry vision cleared, revealing the automaton looming beside her.

    What the fuck, tin can...

    First, she encountered a gargoyle, now an automaton. If she were to meet a goblin or troll next...

    The automaton''s body was a complex amalgamation of brass and copper metals, gears, and glowing runes that traced patterns across its surface, a thin trail of vapor issuing from exposed piping and joints. It had a domed head with a tattered top hat that drooped to one side, and its limbs consisted of segmented arms and legs that articulated as it moved, with a series of multi-jointed fingers and toes.

    "Seriously... ow, my fucking head," Aubrey spat. She lay bound and tied to a chair, a rope circling her torso, pinning her arms, and restraining her wrists. Additional ropes wrapped around her ankles and legs.

    Okay. That''s pretty kinky.

    Aubrey tested the ropes, wriggling and struggling. Nope. Nothing. Looks like escape ain''t an option.

    She exhaled, defeated.

    At least her guitar-axe, Hellion''s Cry, lay leaning on a desk, out of her reach.

    Well, shit.

    "So, Mr. Clockworks, tin can, bolt brain. Can''t believe I''m asking this. But why the bonds?" Aubrey tested the ropes once again. "Can''t we just have a civil conversation? And why''d you have to punch me in the kisser? Totally uncalled for."

    The automaton shifted and leaned close. Her eyes met its optics. They resembled glass globes with circular irises that opened and closed.

    Finally, it spoke in a modulated tone akin to an old-time radio.

    "Indeed, why is a question oft pondered but seldom answered to satisfaction," it¡ªhe? replied, straddling the line between human warmth and mechanical cold.

    Huh...

    Aubrey studied the automaton. Guess she''d label him a he... or would ''it'' be better? Bah. Fuck it. Screw pronouns.

    "However, verily, ''tis prudent and advisable to engage in precautionary measures lest unwarranted guests intend harm. Therefore, ''tis understandable and not a motive worthy of castigation."

    "Errrr... come again?" Aubrey squinted.

    The automaton straightened, his lenses whirring. "Verily, unwarranted guests, such as yourself, would not bear the best of intentions, hence, ''twas necessary to restrain your person."

    "Okaaaay. Fair," Aubrey acknowledged. "You could have just kicked my ass and thrown me out. You didn''t have to tie me up. Bit excessive."

    The automaton shifted his top hat and scratched his dome. "Nay, ''tis not. Underestimation of your capabilities could result in my person sustaining grievous injury and damages."

    "True, guess you have a point, clanky. Good instincts," Aubrey conceded. "So... introductions? I''m Aubrey. Used to play music. Rock, Jazz, Metal, Punk, EDM... you know, the usual. Who''s askin''?"

    The automaton adjusted his top hat. "I am unfamiliar with thy genres, but ''tis a pleasure. Verily, greetings, Aubrey. Thaddeus Vanholt at yours."

    "Nice to meet ya, Thaddy."

    "My appellation, verily, differs. Thaddeus, Vanholt, or Sir. Those would suffice. Please address me as such," Thaddy insisted, the clicking of his gears underscoring his syllables.

    "Vanholt''s your surname?"

    "Aye."

    "Cool. Pleasure''s mine, Thaddy Vanholt."

    "Verily, ''tis inaccurate, and erroneously misleading, yet, ''tis acceptable," the automaton bobbed his head.

    "Good, glad we established names. So... Thaddy, how ''bout loosening the binds? This isn''t very comfortable." Aubrey strained against the ropes.

    "Alas, ''twould not serve prudent until an accord of mutual benefit is reached. Until such accords, ''tis regrettable, yet, nonnegotiable."

    "Alright, I can dig it," Aubrey slumped, defeated. "What''s on your mind? Let''s negotiate."

    "Verily," the automaton folded his arms. "State thy purpose of visitation."

    "Curiosity. Saw the building, felt a tug, and I had a hunch to investigate. I heard your drum playing from downstairs."

    "Hmmmm..." Thaddy Vanholt rubbed his chassis and nodded. "''Twould reveal adequate motivation. Thy occupation and status."

    Hmm, how to answer this?

    Telling the whole truth wouldn''t pan out well. So far, she hadn''t been consistent on her identity. On one hand, she wanted to continue as the Aubrey from this world, while on the other... she''s been acting more like her previous self.

    Was this what having a split personality feels like?

    Fuck, confusing...

    Perhaps half-truths or selective disclosure could work.

    "I used to be a singer. Someone murdered me, and now I''m a jobless Unhallowed. Currently freeloading at a cathedral with a gargoyle. So, unemployed, dead, and homeless, basically."

    Thaddy tapped his dome, scrutinizing her. He paced for a bit, his brass feet clinking. "''Twould prove a challenging predicament. Your claim bears semblance to veracity. However, a thorough scrutiny is required."

    "Hey, clanky. Do what you gotta. Better safe than sorry. Still friends though." Aubrey shrugged.

    "''Twould indeed provide prudence. Excuse me." Thaddy Vanholt unfolded his arms and approached.

    He bent down and removed a panel on his dome-head and fiddled with his internals. Aubrey flinched at a series of sparks and pops.

    "Yeesh! Careful, dude. You''re gonna electrocute yourself, tin can," Aubrey warned.

    "Do not fret. Electrical currents pose no detrimental effects." Thaddy Vanholt extracted his mechanical innards. Tubes and wires trailed and spilled out.

    More sparks and pops issued, and the scent of burnt hair and singed metal filled the room.

    "Oi! Watch it! Point the smoking cables away. You''ll start a fire."

    Thaddy Vanholt gingerly grasped a sparking cable and touched the bare end to her forehead.

    Electricity arced and Aubrey yelped as a painful shock traveled through her skull.

    "Arghhh! Motherfucker!"

    "Verily, a few more." Thaddy Vanholt ignited the cable again, touching the live end to her temple, resulting in an electric jolt.

    "Sonova- Arrggh! Stop shocking me, boltbrain!" Aubrey writhed, her body shuddering.

    "Verily, one last inquiry." Thaddy Vanholt sparked the live end again. Electricity arced, and Aubrey''s entire body twitched and spasmed, her limbs and torso convulsing.

    "Grrrglllrrraahhhh!! Ffffffffffff! Uggggghhh..."

    Finally, the sparks ceased and the automaton withdrew the cable, sealing the access panel and adjusting his top hat.

    Aubrey hung limp against the chair, panting and gasping.

    "Verily, the query has proven satisfactory and without a hint of prevarication." Thaddy Vanholt circled Aubrey and undid her binds.

    "Asshat... clanky," Aubrey growled, rubbing her freed limbs.

    "Alas, the procedure proved necessary and without alternative. Prudency superseded mercy and decorum. Apologies."

    "Fine," Aubrey rose and stretched, massaging her stiff limbs. "Guess we''re square. No hard feelings. Glad you could detect the lack of deceit. But seriously? Electric shocks?"

    "Aye. ''Tis efficient and without fail. I apologize again." Thaddy Vanholt bowed deeply, his top hat dropping, a gear and a screw falling out.

    "Eh, water under the bridge."

    "Verily, thank thee. A refreshment is in order." Thaddy Vanholt retrieved a cup and a teapot. Steam wafted from the spout.

    "Tea?" Aubrey accepted the proffered ceramic vessel and sniffed the liquid. Hmm... smells delicious. Mint and honey.

    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

    She sipped and relished the sweet and warm herbal infusion. The soothing heat flowed through her core, alleviating the lingering soreness from Thaddy''s shocking interrogation.

    "The tea has served adequate?" Thaddy Vanholt retrieved the emptied vessel.

    "Yeah, thanks. Hits the spot." Aubrey handed him the drained teacup, and the automaton placed the dish on the desk.

    "Verily. Shall we commence the negotiation?"

    "Um, sure. But, please, I beg you. Stop saying ''verily'' all the time. I''m about to have an aneurysm. Say something different. Maybe ''dude'', ''sirrah'', ''bruh'', or whatever."

    "Ver¡ªindeed, ''twas a habit ingrained. Indeed, apologies." Thaddy Vanholt corrected himself, straightening his top hat.

    "Thanks, clanky."

    "Indeed. Hence, negotiations shall proceed?"

    "Yes, let''s chat. Wait, first, I gotta ask... are you a sentient construct, or are you a human trapped in that metal body?" Aubrey inquired.

    Thaddy''s lenses whirred and focused. "Ver¡ªindeed. An astute deduction. Alas, ''tis correct. Mine essence resides not in a constructed corpus of brass and copper but rather in a mortal corpus that has since perished.

    Alas, an affliction has transferred mine mortality and has instead transplanted mine soul and lifeforce unto this mechanical prison. Thus, mine corpus has since perished, and this is merely the phantasmal echo of Thaddeus Vanholt."

    Aubrey processed the automaton''s lengthy soliloquy and summed it down.

    "So... you were an inventor who died. Got cursed. Soul inhabits an automaton. Correct?"

    "Ve¡ªyes." Thaddy Vanholt agreed, fiddling with his top hat.

    "Awesome." Aubrey clasped her hands.

    Finally, another cursed individual. Like her, Thaddy Vanholt has also endured a similar plight. Though, not quite the same. Hers had involved the curse of rebirth and reincarnation. Thaddy merely existed trapped in a mechanical body.

    Still, a kindred spirit nonetheless.

    "Yes. Thus, negotiations?"

    "Alright, Thaddy Vanholt. What''s on your mind? What''re your motives?" Aubrey prodded.

    Thaddy''s lenses whirred and shifted. "My motives encompass two major impetuses. Firstly, the preservation of mine essence."

    "Preserve yourself?" Aubrey prompted.

    "Yes. Without the maintenance and preservation of mine essence, mine corpus shall decay, and my mechanized lifeform would cease to function."

    "Sure. Preservation and maintenance. Makes sense."

    "Secondly, the pursuit of music. ''Tis the prime motivation of my current existence."

    A music lover! Hell fucking yes! Aubrey mentally cheered. Music was her lifeblood, and anything relating to songs and sounds had her utmost interest. Did they just become best friends?!

    "Music''s everything." Aubrey high-fived Thaddy.

    "Indeed." The automaton reciprocated the gesture. Sparks and arcs erupted, and Aubrey suppressed a wince. Damn electricity.

    "So, Thaddy. Lemme get this straight. You seek to preserve yourself and pursue music?" Aubrey summarized.

    "Yes," the automaton agreed.

    Things were literally clicking into place, and the grand plan that had stewed in her brain¡ªbesides the one about killing her murderers¡ªwas forming a band in this world. Now seemed like the golden moment.

    "Alright, Thaddy Vanholt. Let''s team up. Form a band. How''s that sound?" Aubrey offered.

    Thaddy''s gears clicked and whirred. "A fortuitous proposal. Yet, verification is in order."

    "Ask away, clanky."

    Thaddy stroked his metal chassis and paced.

    "Question one. Are ye trustworthy and without malevolent intents?

    "Yep. Straight-talking Aubrey. Honest as fuck."

    "Inquiries two and three. Would ye betray mine person and conduct nefarious machinations against mine mechanical corpus?"

    "Clanky. We''re musical kindred spirits. Why would I wanna break or ruin your tin¡ªerr, brass can ass? The worst I''ll do to you is use you like a sexbot when I''m horny."

    "I am unfamiliar with the term ''bot''." Thaddeus titled his dome.

    "Hmm... ah! I know." Aubrey snapped her digits. "Pleasure automata."

    Thaddy''s mechanisms whirred, and his top hat unceremoniously fell from his head. Aubrey imagined that if the automaton had skin, his brows would''ve furrowed.

    "You¡­ jest?" Thaddy Vanholt ventured.

    "Yea¡ªnope. Dead serious. If it ever happens that human dudes don''t want to get intimate with me because I''m an Unhallowed, then it''s either gonna be you or my gargoyle friend."

    Wait, did Ceddy even have one? Eh, minor detail. Aubrey would cross that bridge when needed.

    Thaddy retrieved his fallen top hat, fidgeting with the brim and scratching his dome-head. "Inquiry four. Should our accord transgress and fizzle forthwith, would ye sabotage my musical aspirations and curtail mine pursuit for a fulfilling musical experience?"

    "Nope. Music''s everything. Why the hell would I stop you from pursuing the holy grail? Sounds hypocritical. Besides. Who says the accord between us can''t succeed?" Aubrey countered.

    He cocked his top hat to a contemplative angle and fiddled with his gears. "Lastly, should danger transpire. Would ye defend and preserve mine mechanized corpus?"

    "No hesitation. Yes." Aubrey held up a thumbs-up. "Defending comrades'' mechanical asses is priority number one."

    Thaddy paused. Aubrey could envision smoke issuing from his mechanism. After a moment, he straightened, snapping his top hat upright. "Very well. Agreement sealed and contract consummated. Ye have demonstrated the aptitude and merit to earn mine trust, Aubrey. Allow mine person to present an offer. Join mine endeavor to assemble a musical collective. Become mine companion and associate."

    "Hell fucking yes." Aubrey pumped a fist. Wait, wasn¡¯t making a band her idea? Whatever. "Glad to join. Thaddy. Let''s make music."

    Thaddy extended his mechanical hand. Aubrey gripped the metal limb and shook. Arcane symbols flared and encased their clasped hands.

    "Hey! What the¡ª"

    "Do not fret. ''Tis a magically binding accord." He released her hand and Aubrey studied her limb. The mystical sigils dimmed and vanished.

    "Agreement consummated and valid," Thaddy confirmed.

    "Great." Aubrey rubbed her palm. "Hey, so um, this place looks like shit. Would you like to relocate to a cathedral? It''s got a huge basement."

    Thaddy''s lenses whirr-ed and focused. "Relocation possesses appeal and merits. However, mine possessions and equipment require relocation. Mine person cannot abandon the sanctum."

    "Sweet, no problem." Aubrey surveyed the disheveled and wrecked room. She hadn''t noticed until now, but there were a lot of mechanical apparatuses and gadgets strewn about. Tools, instruments, and various contraptions covered the tables and surfaces.

    Woah. Hmm. Guess this counted as Thaddy''s workshop or laboratory. Wonder how much it costs to rent a wagon?

    <hr>

    Renting a damn wagon turned out to be a bigger hassle than she expected. She ended up settling on using an open-air cart that was hitched to a couple of horses. Luckily, she only had to pay a fee for usage, and nothing more. But now she only had a few shillings to her name.

    Hours later, Aubrey and Thaddeus worked together hauling the heavy and bulky equipment. They finally finished transferring all of the mechanical inventions and musical devices into the wagon.

    The sun neared the horizon, casting elongated shadows along the cobblestone streets. They made their way back to the cathedral, with Thaddeus sitting on the wagon''s front seat with her, garbed in thick robes to hide his form.

    The horses pulled the wagon steadily, trundling over the stone pavement and rumbling through puddles.

    Along the way, a message blared in her mind.

    [Your Rank has increased from Prelude to Adagio]

    [You have 2 unused Talent Points]

    [You have 4 unused Ability Points to spend on your Banshee abilities]

    [You can increase two of your attributes by one grade]

    Wait, what? Aubrey raised an eyebrow and inspected her status page.

    [Name: Aubrey]

    [Race: Revenant]

    [Variant: Banshee]

    [Rank: Adagio]

    [Attributes: Grade]

    [Tempo: E]

    [Dynamics: C]

    [Timbre: D]

    [Pitch: C]

    [Harmony: F]

    [Resonance: E]

    [Cadence: D]

    [Riff: F]

    [Select the two attributes to increase by one grade]

    It felt a little strange that somehow, even though she lost her fight against Thaddeus due to getting sucker-punched in the face (or the chin to be exact) with the added benefit of suffering through an electrical jolt, she still ranked up.

    At this point, she had a suspicion that ranking up depended on a variety of factors. It wasn''t just a simple win-or-lose formula.

    After some deliberation on which attribute to raise, Aubrey decided to give Dynamics and Harmony a boost.

    [Increasing your Dynamics attribute enhances the power and effectiveness of your skills and abilities. It also provides a damage bonus to weapon attacks.]

    [Increasing your Harmony attribute boosts the potency of skills and abilities that buff and debuff targets.]

    [Dynamics: B] ?

    [Harmony: E] ?

    Aubrey felt a slight wave of power flow through her body. The sensation felt akin to drinking a really hot cup of coffee that gave a subtle rush of alertness. The feeling of a mild caffeine buzz ran through her frame.

    For her talent points, she didn''t want to spend too long looking through all the Talent Trees again. One skill from the Rondo Route and one from the Sonata Path had already caught her interest.

    [Footsteps Amidst Echoes (Rondo Route, Tier 1, Passive Skill): Increases stamina regeneration, allowing for sustained movement in battle.]

    [Dance of the Swift Gale (Sonata Path, Tier 1, Passive Skill): Improves movement speed and agility, enabling quicker dodges and positioning.]

    With that taken care of...

    Next, what were these Ability Points?

    [Ability points are spent on your Banshee abilities. The two ability trees are Banshee''s Lament and Banshee''s Aria.]

    [Banshee''s Lament: This ability tree draws upon the haunting and eerie aspects of the mythos, focusing on controlling others through fear, debuffs, and manipulation. This path is designed to disorient, weaken, and terrify opponents, making them easy targets for the banshee and her allies.]

    [Banshee''s Aria: This ability tree focuses on the empowerment of oneself and allies, bolstering attributes, healing, and channeling the power of music through auditory and sonic attacks. This path is ideal for those who wish to conquer obstacles with strength, power, and force.]

    As the wagon continued its journey, with Thaddeus leading the horses, Aubrey scrolled through the list of abilities from each one.

    Interesting... both paths had their strengths and weaknesses.

    On one hand, Banshee''s Lament represented the tactical and mental aspects of a battle. It played to the idea of utilizing deception and guile. The ability to cloud the enemy''s mind with terror and fear and to inflict them with crippling ailments that rendered them vulnerable.

    On the other hand, Banshee''s Aria embodied the heroic and inspirational side of battling. Its focus is on increasing the attributes and power of one''s allies by pumping everyone with buffs, auras, and healings, alongside providing devastating sonic attacks.

    There were also several passive abilities that Aubrey could unlock.

    After spending a bit of time mulling over each ability, Aubrey eventually settled on four.

    [Echo of Vitality (Banshee''s Aria, Tier 1, Active Ability): Boosts the stamina regeneration for the banshee and her allies within a twenty-meter radius. Duration: 120 seconds. Cooldown: 240 seconds]

    [Swift Cadence (Banshee''s Aria, Tier 1, Active Ability): Enhances group movement speed, enabling rapid positioning and maneuvering. Duration: 90 seconds. Cooldown: 180 seconds]

    [Eerie Echo (Banshee''s Lament, Tier 1, Passive Ability): Nearby enemies have a reduced chance to hit, affected by the unsettling whispers that linger around you.]

    [Woe-Begotten Whisper (Banshee''s Lament, Tier 2, Active Ability): Targets a single enemy, causing fear and making them flee in panic. Duration: 15 seconds; Cooldown: 120 seconds]

    [Note: Tier 2 abilities require you to have achieved at least the Rank of ¡®Adagio¡¯, and have unlocked at least one Tier 1 ability in the same tree.]

    Feeling satisfied with her choices and her newly upgraded attributes, Aubrey sat back and watched the city scenery.

    Eventually, they arrived back at the cathedral with minimal fanfare. The church''s looming facade appeared more formidable and impressive compared to her first arrival. The sun''s dying rays reflected off its stained glass windows and glittered over its flying buttresses.

    They parked the horse-drawn cart beneath the shadow of the cathedral''s colonnaded entryway.

    Aubrey hopped down from the wagon and headed to the main entrance, opening the double doors.

    Inside, a strew of bodies lay scattered on the floor by Cedric''s feet. Blood dripped from the gargoyle''s claws and spattered across his face and chest.

    Cedric looked up and regarded her, the crimson glowing in his eyes. "Welcome back. Did you return with souvenirs?"

    "N-no. Not exactly. But more importantly... what the hell happened here?!"

 Chapter 11: Fight, Bet, and the Shadowdancer

    After a bit of tidying up the corpse-strewn cathedral floor, Cedric explained the situation to her. Apparently, the corpses belonged to some brigands and thugs that intended to pillage the place¡ªa seasonal occurrence it seemed¡ªand Cedric... took care of them.

    Gotta love it when a gargoyle stands watch.

    Aubrey considered her next move. They needed to dispose of the corpses. A midnight grave-digging session awaited her and Cedric.

    The irony wasn''t lost on her.

    Unburying herself. Then burying others.

    Just fucking awesome.

    Thaddeus busied himself unloading the wagon full of gadgets and mechanical devices. The brass and copper construct carried each box and crate with ease. In no time at all, he emptied the cart, storing all of his stuff in the cathedral''s sub-levels.

    "I didn''t think you''d bring an automaton back from your stroll," Cedric commented as he followed Aubrey out of the cathedral.

    "Yep. He''s a good guy. He plays music. Has a nice brass ass."

    "I see... wait, what do you mean by that?"

    "Nothing," Aubrey dismissed.

    After burying the bodies later that night, she set to sleep and promptly conked out.

    Morning came, and Aubrey awoke refreshed. Her body still ached from the fight yesterday. But she felt surprisingly better. She wandered downstairs to the chapel area and found Thaddeus disassembling a mechanical device.

    "Morning, Thaddy. What''re you doing?" Aubrey called out from the doorway.

    The automaton waved. "Good morn. Aubrey. Adjusting my mechanical corpus. Greetings to your winged associate."

    Aubrey looked to her left. Cedric leaned against the wall by the entrance, watching Thaddeus.

    "Oh, yeah. This is Cedric. Gargoyle. And resident protector. Ceddy, this is Thaddeus. Automaton musician and artificer of sorts. My newest bestie."

    Cedric nodded, the morning light refracting off the contours of his stone body. "Greetings. Thaddeus Vanholt. Honor to have you here."

    "Verily. Likewise and the same," Thaddeus tipped his top hat and continued disassembling a contraption.

    Aubrey sat on a pew and watched. Thaddy worked with surgical precision, manipulating screws, gears, bolts, and rods. She observed his brass digits and their dexterity. Impressive.

    "Oh, Ceddy, guess what? Me and Thaddy decided to form a band."

    "Band?" Cedric glanced at her.

    "Yep. A group or collective devoted to performing music and singing songs." Aubrey elaborated.

    "A musical ensemble," Thaddy chimed in. "''Twould possess myriad merits and advantages."

    Cedric inclined his stone head. "Sounds intriguing. Musical bands have existed since the ancient past. I''ve seen orchestras perform at festivals. Though, I''m unfamiliar with the modern incarnation. What''s an ensemble like these days?"

    "Modern ensembles have progressed tremendously. Mechanical advancements have augmented and enhanced musical performance," Thaddeus explained.

    "Like?" Aubrey prompted.

    Thaddeus straightened and set aside his tools and dismantled gadgetry. "Mechanization of stringed instruments has improved the tonal quality of lutes, violins, guitars, and harps. Such methods include the implementation of dynamic tension regulators for sustained strings, allowing musicians to modulate the vibrato depth and speed with unprecedented precision.

    Tempered tuning pegs for more accurate notes and sharper pitches. Metallurgy innovations have increased durability and strength without compromising resonance. All of which permit more sensitive control and precise playability. Furthermore..."

    Thaddeus'' lecture continued for a solid fifteen minutes.

    Damn. Talk about an encyclopedia. Aubrey absorbed some of his technological jargon and caught Cedric''s vacant gaze. Seems like the gargoyle has checked out halfway.

    Eventually, Thaddeus finished his lecture.

    Aubrey blinked, unsure of what to say or comment. Technical terminology and mechanical engineering flew right above her head.

    "Uhhh... sounds amazing."

    "Verily. Music has progressed magnanimously." Thaddeus replaced his top hat and picked up a dismantled contraption. "Additionally, percussion has benefitted similarly. Mechanical enhancements have yielded improved tactile feedback, more precise control, and greater versatility."

    "Wow... cool." Aubrey attempted to comprehend his technobabble and failed.

    She switched topics. "Thaddy. Any musical groups or bands around here?"

    "There are numerous."

    Aubrey slapped her knee. Time to scout the competition¡ªand while she was at it, find clues regarding the four people who killed her.

    These two couldn''t possibly tag along. She could see Thaddeus blending in somehow... but not Cedric. Not with those wings and stone body. People would either scream or call guards.

    Or would they?...

    "Hey, are automatons commonplace?"

    "Commonplace would differ from uncommon," Thaddeus adjusted his top hat. "Automata creations vary. Some are utilized for menial labor and manual tasks. Others serve as sentry guards and patrol the perimeter. There also exist humanoid automata for companionship and recreation. Yet, sentient constructs and animated entities such as mine person and the gargoyle, would draw notice."

    Figured as much. Aubrey hummed.

    "Alright. Thanks. Lemme go scout the musical scene and scope the city. Be back later."

    Thaddeus fiddled with his copper innards. "Safe travels."

    "Ceddy. Cover the fortress. Oh, and you two bond while I''m gone." Aubrey waved and departed.

    <hr>

    Aubrey spent the day exploring more of the Gallows Row district, traveling the winding roads and navigating the maze-like lanes and alleyways. She traversed cobbled paths, circumvented manhole grilles, and ducked beneath archways and gables.

    Onward through the mists and fog, through the squalor and gloom. This place had a Dickensian vibe going on. Gas streetlamps. Dim cobblestone lanes. Shadowed and gloomy houses. Shanty homes. Broken signboards and hanging sigil lanterns.

    Honestly... kinda liked it.

    Plus, the weather was great, fog and clouds aside.

    Not long after her trek, she started doubting whether this expedition would pan out fruitfully. She knew she was a singer in this life as well, but would she have even gone out here to perform?

    Doubtful.

    Barely anyone around here would even have the spare coin to spare for entertainment. Busking in this part of town wouldn''t work. Unless beggars could spare a penny.

    Shit. Maybe this trip would net a big fat goose egg.

    Aubrey sighed and kicked a stone.

    Well... guess she''d explore regardless. She should at least find out what the entertainment scene looked like amidst the destitute so that she could establish baseline expectations about her future gigs.

    After a half-hour hike, a distant tune drifted through the fog, a melody emerging from the mist. Curious, Aubrey followed the notes. The song sounded catchy. Hopefully, her intuition paid dividends and not a waste of her afternoon.

    Minutes passed, and the melody grew louder. Aubrey walked onward until a building emerged from the fog. Its signboard depicted a trio of dice. The tavern stood sandwiched between a dilapidated building and a crooked structure, looking as if the slightest breeze could knock them over.

    She approached the establishment, the notes emanating clearer. Frantic, lively tunes. Violin screeching. She couldn''t help but tap her foot.

    As Aubrey drew nearer to the tavern''s entrance, the door burst open, and a man flew out, landing on the cobblestones with a wet THUD. The crowd inside roared and cheered.

    Woah...

    Aubrey entered.

    The interior of the tavern looked like a miniature coliseum. A sandpit occupied the center of the room. Spectators surrounded the fighting ring, exchanging bets and cheering.

    Within the sandbox, a burly bruiser swung his fists, throwing haymakers and lunges. His opponent, an athletic fighter, avoided his blows. The smaller man''s fists blurred, the patter of his punches punctuating the chaotic melody.

    Amidst the din and chaos, a violinist perched atop a makeshift stage on one end, shredding a frantic and energetic tune, her bow skimming the strings. The music raced and escalated. Aubrey caught the performer''s gaze, a young woman dressed in tattered clothes and a soot-covered face.

    Meanwhile, the fighters danced around each other, trading blows, their punches and kicks connecting with meaty THUNKS.

    The violinist''s tempo accelerated, reaching a fever pitch. Aubrey found her own limbs moving involuntarily. Her muscles twitched and itched to dance.

    Suddenly... the violin screeched and cut short.

    WHAM!

    The burly bruiser delivered an uppercut, and the opposing contestant crumpled.

    The audience cheered and shouted. Coins exchanged hands.

    Damn, brutal. Aubrey whistled, impressed.

    "Round''s done! Onto the next fighters! Place yar bets!" the announcer bellowed.

    Aubrey sidled closer and studied the sandpit. Inside the arena lay the unconscious and K.O''d fighter. Nearby attendants dragged the defeated combatant out.

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

    Another pair of bruisers stepped inside the sandpit. They wore cloth wraps over their knuckles and fists.

    "Place yar bets, bettors! Fight''s about ta resume!"

    Aubrey dug into her pockets. Ah, fuck... only a few shillings left. Hopefully, these fights didn''t cost too much.

    Should she bet? Aubrey wasn''t familiar with the odds, competitors, or rules. Plus, gambling had never crossed her mind.

    "Yar bets, bettors! Place yar bets!" the crier repeated.

    Screw it.

    Aubrey approached the betting station and slammed her handful of silver shillings onto the table. "All on the shorter guy."

    "Ahahaha. Ya drunk or somethin''? Shorty''s favorite ta lose. Tall guy''s a house win. Ten to one odds."

    "Short guy," Aubrey confirmed.

    The bookie swept her coins into a chest. "Shorty. Odds are ten ta one." He handed her a ticket slip. Aubrey pocketed the receipt.

    "Start the fight!" the bookie bellowed.

    "Hey," Aubrey interrupted. "Mind if I join the violinist and sing along? Just in case I lose my bet, I wanna at least earn back some coin."

    The bookie scratched his scraggly beard and pointed with a thumb. "Be ma guest. Tips are yars if ya make folks spend more booze."

    Aubrey bounded up the stage and stood next to the violinist. "Hey. Wanna duet?" Aubrey whispered. "You play how you want, and I''ll sing along."

    The violinist sized her up, her black, shaggy hair falling over her soot-smudged face. Aubrey could barely discern the young woman''s delicate features.

    "Whatever." The violinist tucked a loose strand behind an ear and wiped her nose. She resumed her frenetic tunes.

    Meanwhile, in the pit, the shorter fighter raised his fists within the arena, bouncing on the balls of his toes. Across the sandpit, his towering opponent snarled and grunted.

    Aubrey unholstered Hellion''s Cry and held it by its fretted neck. She began strumming the guitar in accompaniment. As her digits moved over the frets and strings, the electric runes activated, crackling and radiating indigo arcane light.

    Hellion''s Cry thrummed, harmonizing with the violin. Aubrey matched the violinist''s tempo, her fingers picking and strumming the strings.

    The fighters launched their bout, fists and legs blurring. Punches and kicks sailed and connected, cracking. Aubrey sang harder and faster. Meanwhile, the violinist matched her intensifying rhythm.

    Aubrey sang a song stuck in her mind, belting lyrics she had penned. Years ago, in her other life, a friend uploaded a track that inspired Aubrey''s composition. Her words poured out, her voice growing in intensity, matching the fight''s pace.

    Many of the spectators stopped their betting and stared. Others swayed and rocked to the beat. Several tapped their feet and stomped along.

    Encouraged, Aubrey belted louder. The violinist transitioned her tunes and seamlessly joined her. Together, their notes converged, intertwining.

    Soon, a raucous din arose, and the volume escalated. Roaring and shouting, jeering and heckling. Aubrey closed her eyes and immersed herself within the music, letting the melody sweep her senses.

    The lyrics flowed from her lips effortlessly¡ªdescribing people succumbing to their primal instincts and regressing into apes and chimpanzees¡ªthe tale depicting a society reverting to cavemen and barbarians.

    Throughout the fight, the shorter competitor traded blows and engaged the taller bruiser. Yet, despite his efforts, the odds-on winner slowly began overwhelming the underdog.

    Oh no you don''t. I bet good money on you. Aubrey strummed the guitar harder, ramping up the intensity. Come on. Don''t lose, shorty.

    [Skill: "Echo of Vitality" activated! Duration: 180 seconds; Cooldown: 240 seconds]

    [Skill: "Swift Cadence" activated! Duration: 90 seconds; Cooldown: 180 seconds]

    Her vocals rose and swelled. Aubrey channeled her enchantment ability, fueling the shorter fighter with her eldritch energies. Strength and vigor coursed through his veins. His movements hastened and accelerated. The next enchantment echoed and amplified his reflexes and mobility.

    The shorter fighter''s strikes quickened, and his defenses stiffened. Suddenly, his fist connected with a thundering punch, and the taller bruiser staggered.

    Come on! Aubrey strummed Hellion''s Cry, sending her empowerment echoing throughout the tavern. The violinist mirrored her intensity and pitched her notes higher.

    The underdog''s fists blurred, and a furious combo exploded, raining thunderous BLAMS. The taller opponent wobbled and stumbled.

    Don''t fuck this up. Come on. Finish him!

    A savage uppercut Cracked and snapped the taller bruiser''s head back.

    YES! Aubrey strummed Hellion''s Cry and belted a final note.

    [You¡¯ve gained a small amount of experience]

    The taller opponent toppled over. Sand plumed and erupted.

    The underdog threw his fists overhead and howled. The spectators cheered and booed. Money exchanged hands. Aubrey''s ticket slip multiplied her returns, rewarding a hefty pile of winnings.

    "Shorty Mc''Guff, fer the victory!" the bookie''s announcement drowned in the ensuing din.

    Hell fucking yes! Score! Aubrey pumped a fist. Winning sure as hell felt fantastic.

    After the violinist played a concluding note, Aubrey patted the young woman''s shoulder. "Great performance. Hey, what''s your name?"

    "Liza." The violinist didn''t meet her gaze, her soot-smeared face obscured by the curtain of messy hair.

    "Great duet," Aubrey commended and extended her palm. "Nice working with you, Liza. Hey, why don''t you join my band? We''re new to the scene. So, don''t have many members yet."

    Liza met her gaze, revealing tired and reddened eyes. "Band?"

    "Yeah. Band. Sing and play songs. Want in?" Aubrey prodded.

    Liza didn''t reciprocate or answer. Instead, the violinist stuffed her instrument within the ragged fabric wrap, slung her case over her shoulder, and scurried out the tavern.

    "Wait! Hold on!"

    But before she could give chase, many of the spectators crowded her and handed tips.

    "Song was great."

    "Play another round."

    "More singing and strummin''."

    "Blasted racket."

    "Stuff it, ya coxy! Great show."

    "Love yer voice."

    "Sing another round, lady."

    Aubrey tried escaping the sea of spectators, but the surge and press of bodies prevented her. Eventually, Aubrey had no choice but to entertain them and belt out a few more songs.

    At least the crowd loved her music. She basked within the emotional buffet, gorging on the crowd''s energy and enthusiasm.

    [You¡¯ve gained a small amount of experience]

    Minutes morphed into an hour, and Aubrey''s voice went hoarse. Still, she maintained her composure and sang. Only after the crowd dispersed and cleared did Aubrey dash outside.

    Fuck. Lost her. Aubrey had wanted to recruit Liza. She looked like a troubled musician¡ªa kindred spirit and fellow starving artist. Aubrey knew the pain and struggle. The hardship of an aspiring creative and her experience trying to debut and break into the music business.

    Having a great violinist in their band would have boosted their musical arsenal. Aubrey sighed. The only iffy part was how Liza would have reacted to Cedric and Thaddeus. Probably not well. Still...

    Damn shame.

    Aubrey made a mental note to keep a lookout for the young woman and perhaps find her again. Besides, how many violinists could there be in this part of Mordenstradt?

    <hr>

    Mood dampened by disappointment, Aubrey wandered the streets aimlessly, ruminating and wondering where to look next. The night waxed deeper as she trudged through the labyrinth of alleys and pathways. The moon hung low in the sky, peeking through the thinning canopy of clouds and mists.

    Maybe she should turn back and head home¡ªor to the cathedral, rather. As she retraced her steps, a quartet of shadows materialized from the fog, blocking the path behind.

    "Oi, witch!" the burliest of the bunch, a man with a nose that looked like it had lost a few too many arguments, slurred. "You''ve got some explaining to do, lass. That fight... you rigged it with your... your witchery!"

    Shit. Of course. Aubrey inwardly groaned. She should have fled immediately instead of singing more rounds. Always bet and run. Bet and run. That''s the gambler''s rule. Fuck.

    Aubrey raised her palms and edged backward. "Easy, guys. Listen. Let''s talk this out. No need for violence."

    "Ya hexed the bout. We lost coin because o''ya." Another challenger, a scrappy little runt, spat.

    "Listen. Calm down. Let''s not jump to conclusions." Aubrey backed away and assessed the opponents. Three burly bruisers and a rat-faced man.

    Okay. She could handle this.

    "How are you sure I hexed the fight? Maybe the tall guy was slower today?"

    "''Cause ah could feel it in my scrote," the rat-faced runt hissed, pointing. "Your witchery."

    "Righttt. Scrotum intuition. Totally reliable." Aubrey backed up more. "Gentlemen, if I had the power to rig fights with witchcraft, do you really think I''d be wandering these alleys instead of sitting on a throne of gold by now?"

    "Enough jabberin''." Burly Nose cracked his knuckles.

    "She''s definitely a witch," Ratface squeaked. "Burn ''er."

    "Calm yo tits. Guys. Please. Let''s not¡ª" Aubrey backed away more. She wasn''t planning on killing anyone tonight, but these bastards didn''t seem rational. D¨¦j¨¤ vu struck. It was like the encounter with the graverobbers all over again.

    "Burn the harlot," Burly Nose brandished a rusty knife. The trio of bruisers unsheathed their blades.

    Ratface wielded a torch.

    SHIT!

    As much as she wanted to beat the shit out of ¡®em right here and now, it wasn¡¯t secluded enough. The commotion could alert more troublesome encounters.

    Aubrey bolted. The quartet gave pursuit.

    Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck! Aubrey dashed through the cobblestones, pumping her legs. The alleyways and lanes snaked and twisted. Buildings flanked the narrow lane, their walls looming and blocking her escape. The pounding footsteps and angry shouts remained close.

    Aubrey vaulted over a low-hanging shutter.

    "Get ''er!" Ratface squealed.

    Burly Nose smashed through the obstacle. Aubrey pivoted and changed directions.

    Left. Right. Right. Left. Aubrey ran. Damn, she missed her motorcycle. She would''ve outrun the punks with no issues. Fuck this. Can''t these dipshits accept their loss like gentlemen?!

    She rounded another corner through a more secluded alley and slipped, losing her balance and crashing onto the wet stones.

    "Gotcha witch!" Burly Nose loomed overhead.

    Aubrey whipped her guitar and blocked Burly Nose''s downward slash. Her weapon thrummed as the rusted blade bit the chiseled surface. Sparks erupted.

    As the others surrounded her, a sudden scream from across the intersection of the alley caused everyone¡ªincluding Aubrey¡ªto pause.

    Before them, illuminated by a sliver of moonlight that dared to pierce the alley''s gloom, was Liza, engaged in a macabre tableau that Aubrey had never expected to witness.

    Liza stood over a man, her form both there and not, a creature of shadow and sighs. From her hands, tendrils of darkness unfurled, wrapping around the man in an embrace that was anything but gentle. His essence, a shimmering silhouette of light, was drawn forth, seeping into Liza as if she were a void that hungered for his very being.

    The shadows rippled and swirled around her, cloaking her form as she fed upon the man''s life force. Her skin, previously gaunt and pale, grew flushed and vibrant; her eyes, once sunken and hollow, filled out; and her hair, which had been dirty and tangled, became lustrous and full.

    She was... beautiful. And terrifying.

    Liza''s form rippled and shifted as she completed her feeding. She then turned her attention to the group. Her eyes blazed with an indigo light.

    "Wh-what in the blazes o'' bloody Hell is goin'' on here?!" Ratface stuttered in surprise and fear. The torches the gang carried guttered in the wind that suddenly rose from nowhere.

    Liza took a step forward, and the shadows around her seemed to stretch and elongate, grasping at the four men who stood rooted to the spot, unable to move.

    "U-Unhallowed..." Burly Nose managed to choke out. He lunged at the approaching Liza with his sword aimed at her heart. It pierced through the portion of her chest wrapped in shadow... only for the blade to pass harmlessly through her spectral form.

    The shadows grasped at the rusty sword and yanked it from his hand. The weapon clattered to the ground uselessly.

    One of the thugs attempted to run, but a tendril of shadow reached out and pulled him back. More and more tendrils appeared, ensnaring each of the four men and preventing any possible escape.

    Liza reached the closest man and gazed into his eyes with a sorrowful expression. "I''m... sorry."

    As she spoke, the darkness wrapped itself around the thug, and he fell limp. When she let go of his lifeless body a moment later, he dropped to the ground, nothing more than a husk.

    The other thugs screamed and struggled against the dark bindings that held them fast, but to no avail. Liza continued her slow and methodical approach toward each of them in turn. Each time she reached one, the process would repeat.

    She''d apologize. The darkness would wrap around them. They would die.

    By the time Liza had drained the lifeforce from the last thug, the alley was quiet. Nothing stirred save for the sound of the violinist''s ragged breathing. Aubrey didn''t dare move.

    What... just happened...?

    Slowly, Liza raised her head, her eyes blazing indigo as she locked gazes with Aubrey. The violinist''s expression held a mixture of sorrow and hunger.

    "Y-you... saw." Her voice was little more than a whisper.

    Aubrey swallowed hard. Was this the same shy and timid girl she had encountered earlier in the tavern?

    "I did."

    Liza''s gaze hardened. "Will... will you tell?"

    Tell? Aubrey couldn''t help but chuckle. "If you hadn''t noticed... I''m kind of a freak myself. Who the fuck am I gonna tell?"

    Some of the tension drained from Liza''s shoulders, and her eyes faded back to their natural green, the indigo glow disappearing. She swayed on her feet and would have collapsed had Aubrey not rushed forward to catch her.

    Up close, she could see that the violinist had regained some of her vitality, her cheeks flush with life. The shadows that encompassed half her body retreated slightly, and Aubrey could see that the side bathed in moonlight was perfectly normal.

    Liza''s eyes fluttered shut, and she slumped against Aubrey. Carefully, Aubrey laid her on the cobblestones and brushed aside a lock of her raven-colored hair.

    Who... or what... was this violinist?

 Chapter 12: Unhallowed Harmony

    Aubrey cradled the unconscious Liza and hefted her up. Damn... this woman was light. Aubrey supported her with an arm. With her free limb, she strapped her guitar against her back and then carried Liza''s violin case.

    Carefully, Aubrey navigated the maze of alleyways and passages, taking a roundabout route back to the cathedral, wary of any lurkers and vagabonds. Luckily, her trip ended without further incidents, and Aubrey soon returned.

    With a kick, Aubrey nudged the cathedral''s entry doors. Cedric greeted her. "Welcome b¡ªis that a woman you''re carrying?"

    "Yep. Mind helping?"

    "Do I know her? Is she someone... important?" Cedric assisted Aubrey and took Liza from her arms.

    "Nah. Found her unconscious somewhere. Thought to bring her back here. Help her recuperate. Where''s Thaddy at? Let''s stick her upstairs. Also... we should discuss forming a band. Tonight, actually. Have a discussion ASAP."

    "Thaddeus is below," Cedric gestured with his stone chin. "Let''s set her down first. Follow me."

    The duo ascended the stairwell and deposited Liza on a couch by Aubrey''s bed.

    Aubrey arranged the violinist''s case and set the instrument next to her.

    "So... a band discussion?" Cedric prompted.

    "Yep. Stay here. I''ll get Thaddy."

    Aubrey departed and descended the steps. She strode down the corridors and arrived at the catacombs. Soon, she reached Thaddeus'' workspace. The chamber buzzed with the sounds of mechanical whirring and grinding.

    Inside the dimly lit basement, the automaton tinkerer fiddled with his gadgets and contraptions. A soldering iron sizzled and sparked in his metallic digits.

    Aubrey cleared her throat.

    Thaddeus peered over his shoulder, his brass optics meeting her gaze. "Ms. Aubrey. Good eve. I trust your excursion was favorable?"

    "Yep. Met a violinist. Saw her shred. Sounds awesome. Recruited her. Well... kinda. She''s knocked unconscious and resting upstairs. Hey. Got a moment? Let''s have a band discussion. Form our official roster."

    Thaddeus extinguished the soldering tool and replaced it amongst his workbench. He retrieved his top hat and readjusted it. "Certainly."

    "Cool. Follow me." Aubrey spun and padded upward.

    Together, the duo ascended and arrived upstairs.

    Cedric stood guard near the sleeping violinist.

    "Ceddy. Move aside. She''ll come to. Leave her some privacy."

    "Understood." Cedric ambled away and took watch near the balcony.

    Thaddeus analyzed the violinist, his optics shining with curiosity. "Peculiar. She has an Unhallowed taint. Though... unusual. Her affliction bears a different aura and signature."

    "Yea. About her. We''ll recruit her and add her to the band. Sound good?"

    "Yes. A violinist would fortify our musical capabilities," Thaddeus adjusted his lapels and nodded approvingly. "Though... the matter of recruitment is not without reservations and conditions."

    "Cool. We''ll wake her and explain." Aubrey paced over and gently shook the sleeping Liza. "Yo. Wake up."

    Liza mumbled and groaned.

    "Hey. Wake up. You''re safe. Nothing''s wrong."

    "Huh... Whaa¡ª" Liza''s eyes fluttered open.

    Aubrey offered a winning smile and thumbs up. "Yo. Rise and shine. Welcome back to the land of the awake."

    Liza shot upright and scanned her surroundings. The shadows that engulfed her flickered and pulsed. "Wh-where... what place is this?"

    "A cathedral. I carried you here. Relax. Nothing bad will happen. Ceddy. Thaddy. Approach. Introduce yourselves."

    Liza hugged her knees and cowered. The shadows around her intensified.

    Aubrey didn''t blame the violinist''s alarm. A gargoyle and a steam automaton had an imposing presence.

    "Relaaaax. They''re friendly. Nice guys. Gentlemen. Right, guys?"

    Cedric bowed. Thaddeus tipped his top hat.

    "Introduce yourselves."

    Cedric spoke first. "Salutations. I''m Cedric, the cathedral sentinel."

    Thaddeus straightened, his mechanical joints whirring. "Thaddeus Vanholt. Tinkerer. Instrumental designer. Enchanter."

    "See? Nice. Welcoming." Aubrey waved and introduced herself. "And I''m Aubrey. Frontwoman and guitarist. Eldritch rockstar. Lead vocalist and songwriter. Also... a banshee. Revenant. I''m an Unhallowed like you. Actually, would everyone here be considered Unhallowed?"

    Cedric and Thaddeus affirmed the designation.

    "Cool. So... everyone here''s an Unhallow." Aubrey continued. "Anyhow. Here''s the deal. I formed a band, a musical collective. We want you¡ªLiza¡ªto join. Be our violinist. What say you?"

    "Join... a band?" Liza blinked.

    "Yep. Join my band. Play music. Sing. Perform. Do concerts. Entertain. Make coin. Get famous. Rock and roll."

    "Concerts..." Liza''s eyes widened. Shadows leaked and leaked and leaked. Soon, the darkness engulfed her.

    "Holy shit, woman. Calm down," Aubrey stepped back. "No need to freak."

    "Musicals... live venues... fame... money...?" Liza''s voice projected from the nebulous cloud.

    "Yep. Concerts. Live events. Festivals. We''ll eventually tour. Hit the road. Become famous. Make a name for ourselves. Fortune and glory and all that jazz. Interested?"

    The shadows subsided and unveiled Liza. She clutched her violin case and trembled. Tears and droplets spilled from her emerald eyes.

    "Really...?" Liza sobbed.

    "Hell yeah," Aubrey placed a palm atop the violinist''s shoulder. "We can support and help you. Provide safety. Security. Protection. Comfort. Whatever you need."

    "Support..." Liza wiped her tears and sniffed.

    "I must state that the path you''ve laid out would be perilous," Thaddeus chimed and adjusted his monocles. "Because we are Unhallowed, we lack the protections and societal privileges accorded regular beings.

    Additionally... performing onstage and exhibiting our Unhallowess would incur the wrath and ire of the Cogsworn Order, along with other inquisitors and hunters. Our pursuits might invite calamity and danger. Are you prepared for such repercussions?"

    "Absolutely. I can handle whatever bullshit that tries to stop us. Trust me. I''ll wreck anyone who messes with the band." Aubrey grinned and puffed her chest.

    Thaddeus glanced at Cedric, who shrugged and nodded.

    "Very well. Your conviction emboldens confidence. Thus, we shall endeavor together." Thaddeus tipped his top hat.

    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    "Awesome. Glad we''re unanimous." Aubrey pumped her fist. "So... band members. Cedric. Thaddy. Meet Liza. Violinist."

    Aubrey furrowed her brows. A nagging feeling told her that she was forgetting something. Oh... right.

    "Hey, Cedric... Do you know anything about music? Can you play an instrument?" Somehow, she had always assumed that he could. He did guard a cathedral devoted to music. Surely, he knew a thing or two?

    Cedric inclined his stone chin, his expression thoughtful. "Alas, the duties of the cathedral and maintaining the grounds have left me little time for self-improvement. But I will happily learn an instrument if given the opportunity."

    Thaddeus stroked his mechanical chin. "Perhaps an instrument that matches your unique physique and abilities would be the best choice. Something durable and sturdy. Perhaps a percussive device? Drums are a popular option."

    Aubrey rubbed her chin. Thaddeus'' idea held merit. Cedric could pound a mean kit and fill in a steady and dependable groove. Yeah. Aubrey liked that plan. But...

    "I thought the drums were your thing, Thaddy?" Aubrey prodded. "That''s how I found you, and I thought your beats were killer."

    "While drums suit my abilities and dexterity due to my mechanical aptitude and proficiencies... perhaps expanding and diversifying our instrumental offerings would augment our versatility and musical range. Your skills in the guitar inspired me to venture beyond the percussion. I am in the process of crafting a bass guitar and experimenting with the instrument''s tonality."

    "Wow. Bass. Awesome idea." Aubrey liked the automaton tinkerer''s ambition. "You''re right. Why limit yourself? Go wild. Try everything. Craft instruments. Explore. Experiment. Variety''s the spice of life."

    "Exactly my sentiments," Thaddeus tipped his tophat.

    "Cool. So drums and bass. Both covered. Violin. Check. My guitar and vocals. Four. Enough to perform."

    Aubrey turned her gaze back to Liza, who sat quietly. "So... Liza. Any comments or concerns?"

    The violinist remained silent, clutching her violin case.

    "Speak your mind, Ms. Liza. Aubrey will not judge," Thaddeus encouraged.

    Liza finally raised her emerald gaze and met Aubrey''s crimson ones. "If... joining the band means I have a roof to sleep under... companions and friends... I would... I would love... to."

    Damn, this girl''s so adorable¡ªas long as she''s not sucking someone''s soul out. Aubrey patted Liza''s shoulder. "Great. Welcome aboard."

    "But... I have to... kill sometimes." Liza''s voice lowered. Shadows churned. "I... drain... people''s essence... to survive."

    "Same," Aubrey nonchalantly waved a palm. "Well, I eat their emotional highs, so it''s not quite the same, but I get you. I''ve killed a bunch of people too. Happens. Shit happens. Whatever."

    "Truly?" Liza''s eyes widened.

    "Yep. I have two goals in this life. The first is to make music and sing my heart out. Second... avenge my murder. Kill the four assholes that snuffed me. Until I accomplish those two missions¡ªuntil I achieve my objectives¡ªnothing will stand in my way.

    If people try and prevent me... they''re toast. So... Liza. Same with you. If someone''s hassling you or hunting you or chasing you down... bring it. I''ll annihilate them. Guaranteed. Cross my still-beating heart."

    Liza met Aubrey''s gaze. Then, the violinist burst into tears and embraced her, crying and sobbing.

    Surprised, Aubrey stiffened and awkwardly patted the weeping Liza. "There, there... Girl... relax. Chill. Stop crying. Tears... they hurt my ears. So... please. Pull yourself together."

    Liza stifled her sobs.

    Aubrey guided her upright. "Listen. So. Welcome aboard. Glad you''re in. Now... let''s craft a contract. Promise and affirm shit. Commit to music. Swear the band oath."

    "A... contract...?" Liza sniffled.

    "Yep. Take a gander. A verbal oath."

    Everyone gathered and huddled.

    Aubrey adopted a solemn tone. "Let''s swear. I... Aubrey. Promise to pursue and dedicate myself to music. Form this band. Create rocking tunes and blasting hits. Establish a legendary group. Become a household name. Bring the noise."

    Everyone nodded and awaited Liza''s oath.

    "Me... too. I... Liza. Promise... to... pursue music. Form the band... create rocking tunes. Hits. Household name. Bring the... noise."

    "Sweet," Aubrey beamed a radiant grin. "Now, swear and repeat after me."

    Everyone recited the oath and concluded the band''s founding ceremony.

    "Welp. Now that that''s done. Next. Band name. Suggestions?"

    Liza shook her head. Cedric and Thaddeus responded in a similar fashion.

    "Figures." Aubrey tapped her lower lip. Hmm... Ideas. I need ideas. Band names. Cool titles. Badass concepts. Concepts and motifs. Motifs. Eureka. Got it.

    "Since we''re Unhallowed... how about ''Unhallowed Harmony''? Because harmony''s synonymous with music. Get it? Un-Hallowed. Harmony. See what I did there?"

    Silence.

    "It''s a tongue twister," Aubrey defended her suggestion. "Also... hallowed''s opposite of unhallowed. So... harmony''s like... the antithesis and the opposite of unhallowed, right? Opposing forces. Music versus damnation and curse and evil and all that. Balancing forces. Yin and Yang."

    Cedric''s and Thaddeus''s stony and mechanical visages showed no indication or opinion.

    Aubrey sulked. Did no one get the clever pun?

    "Unhallowed Harmony suits our circumstances and predicament. Indeed, harmony is the opposition and antithesis of Unhallowed. Apt description and depiction." Thaddeus'' comment saved the day.

    "Fuck yeah. I win the band naming contest." Aubrey pumped her fist. Sweet. Epic band title. Nice. Badass. Edgy.

    "However, the Cogsworn will utilize every measure and implement in their efforts to eliminate us. Hunting an Unhallow will incite additional resources and endeavors. Hence, our group should avoid displaying or prominently broadcasting our association and link to the term Unhallowed," Thaddeus advised.

    "Ah. True. Good point. But we''ll already stick out like sore thumbs. Doesn''t change much." Aubrey shrugged.

    "Indeed," Cedric agreed.

    "Thus Unhallowed Harmony it is." Aubrey finalized the band''s title.

    Liza tilted her head. "Unhallowed Harmony..."

    "Yep. Cool. Finalized. Nailed. Confirmed." Aubrey''s thoughts transitioned to the next topic. "Cool. Band''s founded. Officially formed. Contract sworn. Name confirmed. Next agenda. Musical direction. Song themes."

    "Music... direction?" Liza tentatively posed a query.

    Out of all the things they could talk about, musical direction was the most crucial. The topic made or broke bands. Without a solid concept and theme... the band''s songwriting and song-making suffered. Aubrey could attest to the value of having a concrete theme. Her old band¡ªback from her punk rock days¡ªsuffered for a while because no one could agree on a style.

    Sure, Aubrey performed and wrote several genres. Mostly punk, rock, and metal. However... Unhallowed Harmony had to have an edge.

    It wasn''t a stretch to assume that the musical scene of this place was probably conservative and stuffy. Aubrey wasn''t an expert on music history and theory¡ªdespite her former life as a musician¡ªbut she understood the ebbs and flows and trends and dynamics of genres.

    Considering Mordenstradt''s Victorian-esque aesthetics... the local musical sphere would probably follow historical precedents of that era. Opera. Classical. Baroque. Etcetera. Stuffy. Stale. Dull. Conservative. Aubrey had experienced enough classical concerts, performances, and shows to last her a lifetime.

    This place needed a palette cleanser.

    Moreover, the band''s theme would impact the instrument choices. Drums, Bass, and Violin suited the early rock genre. But would adding an electric guitar skew their sound?

    It shouldn''t. Thaddeus had mentioned the world''s mechanical advancements and innovations. Aubrey recalled seeing steam-powered trams and clockwork-driven automatons. If an industrial revolution had occurred... an electrified sound shouldn''t throw this society off its rockers.

    Besides, people at the tavern had reacted positively and enthusiastically to Aubrey''s guitar riffs. If locals had positive opinions...

    Yeah. Electric guitar''s a yes.

    Guitar would anchor and establish a foundation for their sound. Violin and Drums could supplement. Add texture and layers. Thaddeus'' mechanical precision would nail and deliver tight and groovy bass lines. Perfect.

    Hmm... Aubrey wondered if a keyboard would complement their style and setup. Synths would add lush and depth. Enhance dimension. Color and shade the tracks. Yeah. Keyboards should fit their sonic formula. But they didn''t need one right away. Maybe later. Future addition.

    Overall, Aubrey visualized their sound and aesthetic. Dark. Groovy. Gritty. Raw. Moody. A touch of darkness and edge. But not overwhelming. Enough to grab and hook the listeners. Keep them glued and invested.

    Which begged the question. What new genre should she introduce and pioneer?

    Hmm... Aubrey''s knowledge of music history lacked extensive depth and comprehension. She had dabbled and experimented with a myriad of styles. Indie, folk, rap, pop, rock, ballads, metal, punk, and grunge. Most audiences enjoyed her vocal stylings and appreciated her diversity.

    So... what genre should she adopt?

    Aubrey weighed and ruminated. Rock. She''d start there. Judging by the tavern''s response, her renditions had received a warm reception. People appreciated her interpretations.

    Additionally... rock aligned with her tastes and preferences. Heavy distortion. Growls. High-pitched screams. Rapid strums. Fast and fluid. Headbanging. Aerosolizing sweat.

    She could spice it up with a bit of punk. People living in the Gallows Row probably identified with punk''s anti-establishment anthems and messages. Throw a pinch of metal. Speed up the tempo. Crank the distortion. Sprinkle liberal amounts of grinds and gravel in the vocals.

    Oh! Aubrey had it. Industrial.

    Industrial rock.

    Yeah. It would probably vibe well with the culture in Gallows Row and Ironworks. Industry and factory work seemed to attract exploitation and abuse. Having an outlet and channel for that pent-up energy and aggression made sense.

    Combine aspects of the past with modern sensibilities and the present. Classic meets cutting edge. Traditional meets innovation. Organic substance with synthetic influences.

    Plus, industrial rhythms would suit the steam-powered and mechanized technology prevalent throughout Mordenstradt. Aubrey envisioned her and the band shredding on an elevated stage, mechanical pistons and cylinders belching smoke and smog, sparks flying, steam hissing.

    Yeah. Industrial rock''s the way to go. We can start with that. Aubrey finalized her band''s musical direction.

    "I vote industrial rock," Aubrey declared.

    No responses.

    "Industrial rock. Opinions?"

    "Ms. Aubrey," Thaddeus cocked his top hat. "To clarify. Define ''industrial rock''."

    A wide grin blossomed on Aubrey''s countenance. Time to educate the masses and enlighten the misinformed.

 Chapter 13: Debut at the Dead Poetâ€™s

    Three months later...

    The band''s composition had finally solidified. After three months of trial and error¡ªthree months of hard practice, hard work, and rehearsal¡ªthey had transformed from a collection of individuals into a cohesive unit.

    Compared to her prior experiences with her old band¡ªshe still missed all of them, even though she couldn''t recall a lot of their details from her fragmented memories¡ªAubrey had discovered that her new bandmates proved surprisingly adept and talented.

    Liza possessed impeccable rhythm and timing¡ªshe even kept beat by tapping her foot. The violinist provided consistent and immaculate bowing strokes. The girl could even sight-read sheet music if Aubrey jotted down her lyrics and chord progressions. Liza''s ability to pick up on complex melodies and rhythms proved impressive and formidable.

    Thaddeus exhibited exceptional dexterity and coordination for someone comprised of a majority of cogs and gears. The automaton''s precision and execution never faltered. He demonstrated the ability to transcribe Aubrey''s compositions down to the most minute detail. Furthermore, his technical proficiency and prowess allowed him to make on-the-spot adjustments and changes as needed.

    Cedric¡ªtrue to Thaddeus'' suggestions¡ªpounded a mean drum set. The gargoyle''s stone body lent itself to creating powerful and heavy beats. But what impressed her the most was Cedric''s dedication and work ethic. He had spent weeks practicing and fine-tuning his skills.

    In the short time since he had taken up the drums, Cedric had quickly mastered the fundamentals, allowing him to explore and develop his own personal style and technique. He often contributed interesting fills and grooves that added a unique flair to their songs.

    Despite Aubrey''s initial misgivings and uncertainties regarding her ability to form a successful band, the group''s rigorous sessions and diligent practice had borne fruit, yielding a synergy that far exceeded her expectations.

    As for herself¡ªshe learned one important factor of her Unhallowed existence.

    She needed to feed on a human''s strong emotions weekly to remain strong and healthy. The main stipulation was that she needed to be the catalyst for the emotions¡ªwhether fear or anger or happiness or joy. Otherwise, she drew no sustenance.

    Neglect her appetite... and she weakened, looking rather gaunt and haggard while also feeling irritable.

    Luckily she was able to perform in small gigs and locales to acquire her sustenance¡ªsmall taverns, pubs, houses of ill-repute, whatever joint with an audience. As long as they were packed, she could gorge.

    Her favorite parts of the show remained the crowd interactions and bantering with the audience. She loved watching the people go from stoic and reserved to dancing and going wild. Nothing like a little music to lighten the mood and loosen up the sticks in the mud.

    From her observations, the locals¡ªat least within Gallows Row¡ªtended to display a more... boisterous and raucous temperament. Not a shocker. Gallows Row''s denizens had a rougher and coarser mien.

    Nonetheless. Aubrey did enjoy her encounters with the rowdier and tougher audiences. Those tough bastards could party.

    Sadly... the crowds and patrons weren''t exclusively composed of rowdy drunks and revelers. Sometimes the establishment''s attendees could prove dull and unexciting. Aubrey couldn''t feed off the customers'' emotional highs when they displayed apathy and boredom.

    But that was soon about to change.

    Tonight was the night of their debut concert.

    The date''s arrival had both excited and stressed her. She had wanted to ensure that everything ran smoothly and according to plan.

    "Everyone knows what to do if the Cogsworn Order or any constables arrive during our gig?" Aubrey double-checked with her bandmates.

    "Retreat immediately and regroup back at the cathedral," the three recited the emergency exit strategy in unison.

    "Perfect. Cool. Great. Remember the signals. If anyone sees constables or inquisitors arriving and entering the venue... the signal''s ''coffee.'' Anyone spies Cogsworn machinery and security automata... the signal''s ''espresso.''"

    The members nodded.

    Aubrey had no fucking clue why her companions had selected beverage drinks as the emergency exodus sign. Nevertheless¡ªif the code words ever got activated¡ªAubrey trusted her bandmates.

    "Cool. Awesome. Great." Aubrey paced back and forth. "Next. Gear check."

    "Mr. Cedric, the configuration of your drum set allows it to disassemble and compact into a portable arrangement." Thaddeus approached the gargoyle and explained. "Observe. The drum shells can unscrew and detach. The cymbals and hi-hats fold and retract. Likewise, the kick drum and bass can stack and reduce the piece''s overall size."

    "Most impressive," Cedric inspected the dismantled and compressed drum set.

    "Furthermore, the drum pedals and throne can dismount and affix magnetically, significantly reducing their bulk and weight. Consequently, you can carry the disassembled set comfortably and swiftly, should the Cogsworn or city authorities infiltrate the venue."

    "What about the amplifiers that you''ll use?" Aubrey asked.

    "My acoustic amplifier contains mechanisms that enable disassembly and portability."

    "And my amp?" Liza inquired.

    "Your acoustic amplifier is similarly built," Thaddeus verified.

    Aubrey exhaled and relaxed. Excellent. All the gear could disassemble and evacuate without issues. Which meant that her band could make an emergency retreat and escape.

    "Excellent. Everyone knows their parts and the setlist. Nothing should go wrong." Aubrey''s worries diminished.

    "Except... I feel nervous," Liza tugged at her skirt. Shadows seeped and surrounded her.

    "Girl. Don''t stress. Focus on the music. You''re a phenomenal violinist. Own it. Flaunt it. Show everyone your skills," Aubrey reassured the fretful violinist.

    Liza flashed a meek nod.

    "Remember. You''re not soloing tonight. Play a simple and clean accompaniment. Support Thaddy''s bass. Enhance Ceddy''s kicks and crashes. Back me up. Solid rhythm. Clear and precise."

    Liza inhaled a shaky breath. Shadows retreated.

    "Cool. Excellent. Good. Now... everyone gather." Aubrey gestured her bandmates to draw close. "Grab each other''s hands. Form a circle. Clasp each other''s palms. Everyone."

    Her bandmates complied and clasped their digits.

    "Tonight''s the big show. First concert. Debut performance. Time to prove ourselves. Break the ice. Establish our credentials. Make a name for Unhallowed Harmony." Aubrey''s crimson gaze traversed and met her companions. "Everyone''s worked hard these past three months. Practiced and rehearsed endlessly. Fret not. We got this. No mistakes. Everything will turn out fine."

    Aubrey paused and surveyed her bandmates. No objections. Cool. Excellent. Good.

    "Ready? One. Two. Three. Break!" Aubrey released her companions'' palms and pumped her fists.

    The quartet cheered.

    "Band... assembled," Aubrey grinned and struck a pose. "Ready. Let''s roll."

    The members donned their outfits. Aubrey wore a modified and customized black and red leotard and hotpants ensemble. A skull decal and emblem adorned the garment''s front. She paired her outfit with fishnet stockings and fingerless gloves.

    Black stiletto heels completed her attire.

    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    Aubrey topped the look off with a spiked guitar strap and an extravagant blood-red top hat sporting a feather plume.

    "Stylin''," Aubrey checked herself in a mirror.

    "You look... beautiful," Liza complimented her.

    "Thanks," Aubrey beamed a dazzling grin. "You too. Pretty gal."

    "Me...? Really...?" Liza''s cheeks reddened.

    "Hell yeah. Turn around and check yourself out."

    Liza obeyed and studied her reflection. The violinist wore a Gothic Lolita dress and ensemble. Black frills and a layered skirt accentuated her pale frame. Midnight-shaded leggings and stockings complemented the design and aesthetic. A crimson-lined mantle accented the attire and enhanced Liza''s ethereal presence.

    "Sexy. Rock and Roll. Kickass."

    Liza''s blush intensified.

    "Ceddy. Thaddy. Looking sharp."

    Those two needed the most work with disguising their appearances.

    Concealing Cedric''s wings would have been the most problematic thing to deal with, but apparently, he could just retract and meld them into his body. Aubrey wondered how the fuck that worked biologically¡ªor anatomically¡ªbut didn''t press the gargoyle for answers.

    "Ceddy. Looking cool."

    Cedric sported a thick hooded robe, its deep cowl obscuring his stone face and features. His clawed hands, covered in leather gloves, peeked out from the garment''s sleeves and clutched a drumstick.

    "Thaddy. Fashionista." Aubrey applauded the automaton''s disguise.

    Thaddeus adorned a crisp suit and trench coat. His fedora and a simple harlequin concealed his mechanical visage. Most of his exposed metallic limbs had been concealed beneath his formalwear.

    "Sweet. Excellent. Cool." Aubrey approved the disguises. "Everyone ready?"

    Everyone responded affirmatively.

    "Hell yeah. Let''s tear up the stage and blow the venue''s roof."

    <hr>

    Under the cloak of twilight, Unhallowed Harmony made their way through the winding, mist-shrouded alleys of Gallows Row. The destination was a nondescript edifice, tucked away in an inconspicuous corner. A battered placard hung above the door, its inscription barely discernible underneath years of rust and neglect.

    "''Dead Poet''s Pub,''" Aubrey squinted and deciphered the plaque. "Classy. Sounds morbid."

    "Established decades ago...," Thaddeus analyzed the building''s architecture. "The proprietor''s descendants are said to continue his legacy and heritage."

    "Sweet. Owned by a lineage. Family business. Respect."

    Aubrey opened the entrance and motioned her bandmates to enter. Thaddeus went first, followed by Liza.

    "Ceddy. Grab the equipment," Aubrey tasked the gargoyle.

    Cedric lifted the drum set and entered the venue.

    Aubrey entered the Dead Poet''s Pub and shut the entryway.

    Raucous and raunchy conversations dominated the interior. Patrons lined the counter and tables and drank and conversed. Smoke-filled the air, carrying the acrid aroma of tobacco. Aubrey detected hints of weed and opium.

    As they set up, the curious glances of the early arrivers pierced the dim lighting. Judging by the patrons'' rugged and grizzled looks... Aubrey guessed most¡ªif not all¡ªwere probably ironworkers, factory employees, and laborers. A working-class establishment. Great. Exactly her target demographic.

    Overall, the locale hosted a decent-sized gathering. Probably around sixty attendees. Excellent. The crowd''s a good amount.

    Between rehearsals that stretched into the early hours of the morning, Aubrey had spent the last couple of weeks weaving through the rowdy taverns and smoky dens of Gallows Row, her words laced with the promise of an unprecedented musical experience. Flyers, hand-drawn and illustrated posters, and leaflets advertising the venue, the date, and the time, Aubrey had distributed the information wherever she could.

    And her gamble had paid off.

    Enough curious attendees had decided to drop by the Dead Poet''s Pub.

    "Yo," Aubrey sauntered toward the bar.

    She had paid a decent amount of shillings to secure the booking and venue. Might as well greet and acknowledge the proprietor and owners.

    The middle-aged gentleman manning the counter arched a bushy eyebrow.

    "Evening. Owner... correct?"

    The individual grunted and confirmed her inquiry.

    "Here''s the coin and the fee. Pleasure doing business." Aubrey slid a pouch of shillings.

    The owner swept the sack off the bar surface and pocketed the currency.

    "We''re Unhallowed Harmony. Starting band. Hope you''ll provide us with the chance and opportunity. Appreciate your hospitality." Aubrey extended a hand.

    The pubkeeper regarded her gesture with a skeptical air.

    Aubrey continued, "I''m Nightingale. Frontwoman and lead vocalist. Thanks again."

    The proprietor''s gruff visage softened. Finally, he reciprocated her greeting.

    "Cheers," Aubrey flashed a wolfish grin.

    Behind her, Cedric set up the drum set. Thaddeus connected and prepared his and Liza''s acoustic amplifiers.

    Aubrey''s gaze roved the venue. Most of the attendees had congregated at the counters and tables, sipping ale and liquor. Some had migrated closer and gathered near the stage. Excellent. Stage-side attendees meant more interaction. She preferred getting close and interacting with the listeners.

    She leaped onto the performance area and addressed the crowd. "How''s everyone doing tonight? Good?"

    Most responded with indifferent nods. Others returned blank stares. The rest didn''t bother to react.

    Aubrey clicked her tongue in disapproval. She wanted people to scream and shout and make a lot of noise. Mute and unresponsive listeners weren''t ideal.

    Oh well. Once they hear them play...

    Aubrey took her position and cradled Hellion''s Cry. She adjusted her guitar''s string gauges and knobs, tuned the machine heads, adjusted the intonation and the bridge, strummed and ensured a balanced resonance. Good. All tuned.

    "Count us off," Aubrey tossed her command at Cedric.

    "On cue. One. Two. One. Two. Three."

    The opening chords of Unhallowed Harmony''s first song cut through the air and sliced through the patrons'' murmurs. Aubrey''s fingers effortlessly danced across Hellion''s Cry''s fretboard. Notes and tones reverberated. Her distorted strings thundered.

    Thaddeus punctuated her introduction with a bass line, establishing a syncopated groove and rhythm. Liza''s violin joined and added layers and embellishments, while Cedric''s kicks and crash cymbals complemented and punctuated the opening.

    Then the vocals and the lyrics began.

    Backed by a barrage of notes and tones¡ªdistorted and raw¡ªAubrey growled and spat the song''s verses, accompanied by her guitar''s crunchy and aggressive strums. Textures and grains layered and colored her delivery.

    Aubrey''s crimson gaze scanned the crowd, gauging their reactions.

    A portion of the audience, perhaps those more accustomed to the rough cadences of factory work or the rhythmic pounding of the docks, found their bodies moving instinctively to the beat. They were the first to let go, bobbing their heads and tapping their feet.

    Other patrons, perhaps those unused to the harsh sounds and grittiness, sat transfixed, their expressions a mixture of awe, intrigue, and bewilderment.

    Still, a few listeners opted to ignore the performance altogether, preferring the comforts of their drink and their conversation, their faces set in impassive masks.

    Aubrey ramped up the intensity. With practiced ease, her fingers raced along the fretboard, unleashing a torrent of rapid-fire notes and riffs. Liza and Thaddeus seamlessly supported her, keeping perfect time and rhythm.

    Meanwhile, Cedric maintained a driving beat behind them all, his skillful playing providing the glue that held everything together.

    As the song reached its climax, Aubrey poured everything into her performance, throwing caution to the wind. Summoning the full force and ferocity of her Unhallow physiology, she unleashed a primal scream, letting loose a guttural cry that seemed to shake the very foundations of the pub.

    With that final note, the song came to an end, the echoes of her scream lingering in the air for a brief moment before fading into silence.

    For a heartbeat, no one moved or said a word. The crowd stared at Aubrey and the band with stunned disbelief.

    Then, slowly but surely, the spell was broken, and a raucous chorus of cheers and applause rose up, signaling the crowd''s approval and enthusiasm. Encouraged by the response, Aubrey flashed a wicked grin and launched straight into the next song, her guitar once again blazing a trail of pure sonic fury.

    As the set continued, Cedric and Thaddeus each took their turn in the spotlight, showcasing their instrumental prowess and talent. Liza also stepped up to the plate, delivering a spine-tingling solo that left the audience gasping for breath.

    Aubrey gorged on the intense feelings generated by the audience. Euphoria flooded her veins as the sweet nectar of their emotions nourished her Unhallowed body. She basked in the energy, savoring every drop as if it were a fine wine.

    By the time the band wrapped up the last song, the crowd erupted into a cacophony of reactions¡ªcheers mingled with claps, and even a few whistles cut through the air, while some faces in the crowd wore expressions of thoughtful contemplation, their applause more measured, but no less enthusiastic.

    With one final flourish of her guitar, Aubrey brought the set to a close, signaling the end of Unhallowed Harmony''s debut performance.

    [You¡¯ve acquired a small amount of experience]

    The responses that came were as varied as the crowd itself. Some in the audience were on their feet, their enthusiasm unbridled, faces alight with excitement and passion. Others still sat rooted to their chairs and seats, their expressions thoughtful and pensive, perhaps still processing the novel sounds and textures presented to them.

    A rugged-looking man near the stage, his face alight with excitement, shouted, "Never heard anything like it¡ªbloody brilliant!"

    Meanwhile, a woman, cloaked in the dim light, added with a cautious smile, "It''s... different. But I think I like it."

    Still, another, an elderly gentleman, sitting a distance away, remarked dryly, "It''s a tad loud, but not terrible."

    Despite the mixed reaction, Aubrey was pleased.

    "Thank you all for coming out tonight," she said. "We''re Unhallowed Harmony and this is only the beginning."

    With that, Aubrey and the band packed their instruments and equipment. The attendees resumed their drinking and conversations.

    The owner¡ªperhaps impressed by their performance¡ªflashed a respectful nod. Aubrey returned his acknowledgment.

    As Aubrey and her bandmates departed the Dead Poet''s Pub, she reflected on the performance.

    Overall... it wasn''t bad. Still... room for improvement and refinement. Good debut concert.

    Time will tell how the locals will respond and react to Unhallowed Harmony. Hopefully... she and the band could break ground and carve a niche.

 Chapter 14: The First Lead

    Several weeks passed and Unhallowed Harmony had continued performing at small venues and locales. Word of mouth and rumors regarding her band''s performances and concerts had begun circulating throughout Gallows Row. The crowds steadily grew and expanded.

    Aubrey had even spotted a familiar face or two at her shows¡ªlocals who had attended and enjoyed the first gig.

    Furthermore, the Cogsworn Order and city guards hadn''t interrupted their performances. Aubrey counted her lucky stars. She and her band had no close encounters. No raids. No interruptions. No brushes with the authorities. Lucky.

    Some would argue that Gallows Row had less strict standards compared to Mordenstradt''s core and central districts¡ªand Aubrey wouldn''t deny that. Her mini-concerts attracted all sorts¡ªfrom ruffians to riffraff to common rabble. Still... those audiences had come to see Unhallowed Harmony play.

    Along the while, she gained a steady flow of experience that the System awarded upon performing for audiences.

    Today marked Unhallowed Harmony''s fifth gig and the third consecutive week at the Dead Poet''s Pub.

    Their fanbase and following had increased in the interim. Aubrey spotted the same rugged-looking fellow from their initial debut gig and the cautious-smiling woman. They were regulars¡ªalong with a slew of newcomers.

    Tonight... Aubrey had introduced a surprise track. A new song. Unhallowed Harmony''s newest addition. She christened the track ''Rocking the Grave'' and intended to debut the tune.

    After her band had performed the initial tracks and material... Aubrey would unveil the latest composition. Hopefully... the audience will respond positively.

    "Ready to kick it?" Aubrey signaled her bandmates.

    "On cue. One. Two. One. Two. Three," Cedric counted off and initiated the set''s intro.

    Hellion''s Cry''s strings resonated. Aubrey shredded the opening riffs and phrases. Thaddeus and Liza followed her lead and seamlessly integrated the bass and violin''s rhythm and texture. Cedric completed the track with a thunderous onslaught of kicks, hits, and crashes.

    Aubrey''s vocal fry and growl accentuated the track''s cadence and groove. Subtle vocal harmonies bolstered the textual nuances. Her lyrics oozed rebellion and defiance, evoking images of the graveyard''s spirits tearing down the walls and breaking free.

    Throughout the song''s duration, Aubrey commanded Hellion''s Cry, unleashing a tirade of notes and phrases. She employed palm muting and hammer-ons, adding percussive textures and dynamics. Meanwhile, Thaddeus'' bass added grit and thickness to the mix, complementing Cedric''s rhythmic backbone. Liza''s violin perfectly harmonized and enriched the overall sonic palette.

    The trio backed Aubrey''s guitar and vocals, supporting and enhancing the song''s dynamic peaks and troughs.

    As the song reached its climax, Aubrey upped the ante, delivering a blistering solo that sent the crowd into a frenzy. Notes and tones tore through the venue''s atmosphere, piercing the ears and minds of the audience.

    Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the solo ended, and Aubrey returned to the verse, rounding out the song with a powerful and memorable conclusion.

    As the final notes faded into the ether, Aubrey faced the crowd. Instead of the usual scattered responses and feedback... a deafening roar of cheers and applause greeted her.

    "Thank you! Appreciate it. Glad you liked our newest song."

    Encores. Aubrey recognized the signs. Signaled by a chorus of requests and shouts.

    "Fine. Ya convinced us. One more. Here''s our latest and newest. ''Rocking the Grave.''"

    Cedric counted off once more.

    <hr>

    The concert wrapped up a little after midnight.

    After her bandmates left the venue, Aubrey lingered behind. She had wanted to congratulate the owner. Offer her appreciation.

    "Yo. Proprietor. Cheers, chap," Aubrey sauntered toward the occupant. "Nice audience tonight. Again. Appreciate your hospitality."

    The owner offered a stiff nod. Aubrey''s crimson gaze noticed an open bottle and shot glass. Perhaps the owner indulged.

    "How''re sales?" Aubrey gestured a thumb at the empty pints and tankards.

    "Passable. Profits could improve," the owner stated.

    "Word''s spreading. More clientele will flock. My band''s gonna draw. Guaranteed."

    Another curt nod.

    "Yo. Chap. Relax a tad," Aubrey rested her elbows against the counter. "Don''t mind a drink. Care to share? Bottle and two shot glasses."

    The proprietor arched a bushy brow. Aubrey could tell the owner was tempted.

    "On me. Free booze. No obligations. Promise. Just want to toast and celebrate." Aubrey withdrew and offered a pouch of coins.

    The owner retrieved two shot glasses and filled them with an amber liquid.

    "Cheers," Aubrey accepted and slammed a tumbler. Whiskey burned her throat and warmed her stomach.

    The owner mimicked and gulped a dose.

    "Strong stuff." Aubrey relished the alcohol''s aftertaste. "Appreciate."

    One of the patrons who had attended the concert wandered towards her, a half-empty pint in hand. He looked to be about her age, dressed in shoddy clothes and a tattered cap. Aubrey judged him to be a factory worker. The smell and stains of soot and coal permeated his garments.

    "Miss, um," the patron cleared his throat. "Forgive me if you''ll take offense, but... is your name Aubrey, perchance?"

    Aubrey narrowed her eyes.

    She never mentioned her name publicly. During her performances... Aubrey only announced her stage name¡ªNightingale. Did this guy recognize her?

    "Possibly," Aubrey played coy. "Why you ask?"

    "Well, because you... resemble her a great deal¡ªalmost exactly, in fact. Except your hair is black instead of red, and your eyes are a different color. But, your face... and your build..." the young man trailed off.

    Shit. He did recognize her.

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

    Wait... this could also be a good thing. He might know something about Aubrey''s other self¡ªand the people who murdered her.

    She suppressed a grin. Opportunity had dropped an ace in her lap¡ªtime to interrogate the mark.

    "Do I now? Hmm... that''s funny," Aubrey played dumb and feigned a baffled expression.

    "Indeed," the patron chuckled nervously. "You sing a bit differently too. Your voice, I mean. Though that''s not a bad thing. Your music''s quite refreshing, truth be told. Different, certainly. But also strangely compelling."

    "Much obliged." Aubrey raised an index finger. "Hold on a sec."

    She swigged the proprietor''s whiskey and savored the shot''s flavor and taste. Then Aubrey refilled the tumbler and gulped the contents.

    "Thanks for the pour and the complimentary drinks," Aubrey addressed the owner. "Keep the change."

    Aubrey flashed a knowing smirk and lobbed an additional pouch of shillings.

    The owner grunted and pocketed the currency, then headed to the backroom. No other patrons lingered around.

    "Sorry. Introductions. Who''re you?" Aubrey focused her attention back on the mark.

    "Right, how rude of me," the patron blushed. "Name''s Thomas. I work in the factories just outside the row. Coal and ironwork."

    "Thomas. Gotcha. Mine''s Nightingale." Aubrey extended a palm.

    "Pleased to make your acquaintance." Thomas accepted the greeting and reciprocated. "And forgive my boldness, Nightingale, but... might I inquire if you, perchance, are related to Lady Aubrey?"

    "I''m her long-lost twin sister, separated at birth. Supposedly," Aubrey fibbed and concocted a convenient excuse.

    Thomas-blinked.

    "Or... possibly," Aubrey pretended to hesitate and falter.

    Thomas'' gaze gleaned with interest.

    Got him.

    Aubrey suppressed a snicker.

    "Truth is... dunno." Aubrey fabricated a puzzled and confused disposition. "I came from a different city, and my adoptive parents didn''t mention much about her. All I know... she lived and resided in Mordenstradt, within the affluent districts. Aristocrats. Nobility. Upper-class. High society. You get the gist."

    Thomas''s countenance flickered with curiosity.

    "Dunno specifics. Dunno her address. Dunno her residence. Dunno her mansion''s name. Dunno her family. I''ve only arrived here a few months ago. Know nothing ''bout my roots or her." Aubrey delivered the setup. "Perhaps... care to educate? Fill me in?"

    "Gladly," Thomas brightened. "But, I''m afraid I don''t know very much. Only tales and stories told to me by acquaintances and co-workers. I''ve actually only met her once, from a distance. ''Bout a year ago."

    Aubrey manufactured a sheepish and timid guise. Thomas swallowed the bait. Hook, line, and sinker.

    "Suppose... care to share the tales and stories? Any info would suffice. Thanks. Appreciate," Aubrey batted her long eyelashes.

    Thomas flushed.

    "So... the tales." Thomas cleared his throat. "Lady Aubrey''s a famous and renowned songstress and diva. She''s sung at prestigious theaters and venues throughout Mordenstradt. Well... except in the Gallows Row and Hollows district. Haven''t caught her performances. Can''t afford tickets."

    Aubrey''s facade didn''t betray a hint of revelation. Better sell the naivety. "Really...? Seems like she''s quite famous."

    "Truly. Her red locks and azure gaze are unmistakable. Quite striking. Many admire her."

    "Azure gaze...? Red locks...?" Aubrey pretended ignorance and feigned puzzlement. "Describe."

    "Well, as I said, your hair is midnight black, whereas hers was the color of a blazing flame. But your facial features do bear an uncanny resemblance." Thomas tapped his chin and ruminated. "Now that I compare... truly identical. Almost spookily similar."

    Thomas scrutinized Aubrey. She suppressed a mischievous chuckle.

    "As for her eye color... her irises bore a shade akin to the sky on a cloudless day. Azure and cerulean."

    "Interesting," Aubrey acted amazed. Time to dig. "Know her background? Family?"

    "Alas. No. Sorry. Wish I could''ve gleaned tidbits and snippets. Unfortunately, not a lot of gossip surrounding her private life and background."

    Damn. Aubrey concealed her disappointment.

    "Though... I heard she often frequented a few of the factories owned by the Blackwell family."

    Blackwell? Aubrey''s ears perked. That surname sounded familiar. Where''d she heard that moniker?

    "Which factories are owned by the Blackwells?" Aubrey feigned confusion and ignorance. "You think they''ll let someone like me stroll inside? Factory folk and workers only, right?"

    "Oh yes. Correct. Non-factory staff and personnel are denied entry. But if you can find someone who can introduce you... perhaps they could grant access. Maybe someone who is acquainted with Lady Aubrey."

    Thomas flashed a hopeful grin, but then his expression darkened.

    "What''s the matter?" Aubrey sensed something amiss.

    "There''s... another rumor." Thomas glanced left and right.

    "Yeah...? Spill."

    Thomas leaned closer, lowering his voice as though sharing a state secret. "Well, the Blackwells¡ªthey''re a big name here in Mordenstradt. They own a string of operations across The Ironworks. But the most talked-about ones are those that deal in advanced machinery and... well, some say, devices that aren''t exactly for the common good."

    Aubrey''s interest was piqued, her posture subtly shifting to engage more directly with Thomas. "Devices? What kind of devices?"

    Thomas glanced around before continuing, "Machinery that''s supposed to make life easier but ends up watching over us instead. Surveillance automata, steam-powered sentinels that patrol the streets and workshops. They also make these devices that can project your voice across an entire square. Some say they''ve got contracts with the city guard, making gear for crowd control."

    Aubrey listened intently, her ears hanging onto his every word. "Sound amplification, you say? Hmm... interesting. Anything else?"

    "And then there''s the propaganda production. Not your usual paper and ink stuff," Thomas continued, his gaze distant as if recalling a memory. "They use these advanced printing presses, combined with arcane enhancements, to create posters that... well, they say those posters can influence your feelings towards whatever they''re promoting. Whether it''s a product or a person or an idea."

    Arcane propaganda? Emotive manipulation and persuasion? Sounds illegal. Time to dig deeper.

    "Propaganda posters that alter your feelings and mood? Sounds controversial," Aubrey pressed the mark for details. "Anything illegal and sketchy?"

    "There''s a reason the Blackwells have a monopoly on so many industries and operations here in the Ironworks." Thomas gave her an appraising glance. "If you''re looking to find out more about Lady Aubrey''s connection to the Blackwells, I''d start there. Though... be careful. No one''s seen or heard from her for months now, from what I''ve gathered."

    Hmm. The timeline checked out.

    "Interesting." Aubrey processed the tidbits and facts.

    "Anyhow. Apologies for taking up your time, Miss Nightingale. You''ve performed wonderfully tonight, and I would hate to keep you any longer," Thomas straightened, offering her a polite bow.

    Aubrey could sense the interview drawing to a close. Better wrap things up. She needed to capitalize and utilize the fruits of her charade.

    "Thanks. Means a lot. Again. Appreciate," Aubrey bowed her head and reciprocated the respect and courtesy. "Anyhow. Yo. Hold on a sec. Real quick." Aubrey summoned an index finger and halted Thomas.

    "Yes?" Thomas tilted his head.

    "Can you keep my relation to Lady Aubrey confidential? Private. Under wraps. Discreet. I don''t want rumors and gossip to swirl." Aubrey conjured a pleading expression.

    "Absolutely. You have my word." Thomas crossed his heart and sealed the promise.

    Aubrey feigned a relieved sigh.

    "Thanks. Grateful. Again. Appreciate. Thomas. Cheers," Aubrey bid and waved a farewell.

    "It was a pleasure meeting you, Miss Nightingale. May fortune grace your future endeavors," Thomas tipped his cap and strode away.

    Aubrey monitored him depart the Dead Poet''s Pub. After Thomas vanished into the night, she exhaled. Whew. Long-lost twin sister. Works.

    There was still a chance that he would gossip. Couldn''t eliminate that probability. But, the likelihood of people believing Thomas''s claims¡ªgiven their absurdity and unlikeliness¡ªwas low. Why would a twin sister not affiliated with "Lady Aubrey''s" noble and aristocratic household lurk and perform in Gallows Row?

    Best-case scenario: Thomas kept the confidence and the lid remained tight. Worst case: Thomas spilled and a few believe him. Still... no issue.

    Aubrey would cross that bridge when necessary.

    Now she had a lead. Blackwell¡ªthe name tugged and prodded her recollections. Aubrey''s instincts¡ªscratch that¡ªher soul, her consciousness, her other self¡ªwhatever entity or essence comprised her current identity screamed familiarity.

    Blackwell. Aubrey''s other self must''ve interacted or associated with them.

    Time to investigate. It could all lead to a dead end, but the chances pointed otherwise.

 Chapter 15: Coins and Facades

    "I need a disguise," Aubrey casually asked as she idled around the nave, watching Cedric and Thaddeus rehearse and practice a section of their arrangement at the choir, which served as the band''s rehearsal spot.

    Cedric and Thaddeus paused and halted their jam session. Liza ceased polishing her violin. The trio eyed her quizzically.

    "Why do you need a disguise?" Cedric probed.

    "Need to infiltrate the Blackwell Industries. Visit the factories. Can''t waltz inside plain as day and normal," Aubrey explained, leaning against a column. "I don''t want to be recognized by anyone there who could be associated with my murderers."

    "Infiltrate...? Visit their factories...?" Liza''s brows furrowed. "Isn''t that dangerous and risky...?"

    "Very." Aubrey didn''t sugarcoat her intentions. "But I need answers. Need clues. Need hints. I''ll play detective."

    "Why visit and infiltrate their factories?" Cedric quizzed. "You could pose as a maid and enter their mansion instead. Safer."

    "Because... my gut instinct screams the factories." Aubrey clenched a fist and smacked an open palm. "I just know it. Feel it in my bones. Their mansion and their estates are probably heavily guarded and protected. Too secure. At least with the factories, I could sneak in and blend."

    "Fair points," Cedric acquiesced. "What sort of disguise did you have in mind?"

    "Mostly just to alter my face. Make me unrecognizable." Aubrey ruminated.

    Thaddeus'' mechanized brain whirled. Aubrey could almost visualize the gears and pistons spinning inside his dome.

    "What''s up...?" Aubrey''s gaze shifted toward his direction.

    "Perhaps... an illusion glamour...?" Thaddeus suggested. "There is an artifact that could serve your purposes."

    "Illusion glamour...? Artifact...?"

    "Indeed. You could seek for a traveling merchant named Fentworth. He is known to peddle unusual trinkets and peculiar baubles. Mayhaps his shop has your requirement."

    "Sounds promising. Fentworth''s the guy''s name?" Aubrey committed and memorized the moniker. "Where can I locate him?"

    "Nearby the easternmost edge of Gallows Row. Near the borders with the Ironworks'' outskirts. Follow the scent of exotic spices and aroma. There, you''ll spy his storefront. ''Tis a tent," Thaddeus articulated.

    Aubrey ingrained the description and layout.

    "Great. Appreciate the tip. Thanks." She turned to Cedric. "I''ll need some coins from our treasure vault to purchase the glamour. Hope you guys don''t mind."

    "I do mind," Cedric asserted. "You are not permitted to withdraw from the church''s treasury."

    Aubrey blinked. "Wait, what? Why not?! Aren''t I supposed to be the chosen one? I got Hellion''s Cry from there. Remember?!"

    "Correct. Hellion''s Cry belongs to you. However... the rest of the treasury''s contents are communal properties and assets," Cedric clarified. "They are meant to fund the maintenance and upkeep of the church''s functions and necessities. You''re free to draw shillings and funds only if the expenditures will benefit Unhallowed Harmony."

    Aubrey approached Cedric dramatically, resting against him and draping her arms around his shoulders while drawing circles against his literal rock-hard pecks with her finger.

    She assumed an adorable and pitiful demeanor.

    "Come on, Ceddy. Pleaaaaaaaase. I promise I''ll payback triple fold. Quadruple. Quintuple. Please?" Aubrey adopted a pleading and begging tone, batting her long eyelashes.

    <hr>

    Aubrey landed face-first on the cobbled pavement after Cedric threw her out bodily.

    "OWWWWWW!! Sonofvabitch!" Aubrey cursed and rubbed her bruised cheek. "Asshole. JERKWAD. Bastard. WANK STAIN. FUCKWEED!"

    She seethed and nursed her injured visage.

    Cedric closed the church''s heavy oak doors without remorse.

    Aubrey simmered and stewed. Fine. Whatever. Fuck the cash. She''ll figure something else. She had enough coinage from their concert profits. If not... she''ll improvise.

    Aubrey grumbled and dusted herself clean. Time to seek Fentworth.

    <hr>

    As Aubrey navigated the grimy and dirty streets of Gallows Row, she made her way eastward, following the winding and twisting alleys, passages, and thoroughfares. She approached the fringes and borders of the Ironworks outskirts.

    The sights and smells changed as she transitioned from the grimy and dirty to a smoky and filthy district. Aubrey could detect the faint tang of iron and steel permeating the atmosphere. Accompanying the scent was a cacophony of clanging and clanking from the factories.

    Suddenly, a delicious and exotic aroma tickled her nostrils. The fragrance smelled of rich spices and savory delicacies, reminding her of the flavors and aromas she had enjoyed back in her old life.

    Aubrey tracked the fragrance, winding and maneuvering her way through the Ironworks'' outskirts, navigating the dense and crowded streets. She stumbled across a tent¡ªFentworth''s storefront, no doubt.

    Aubrey entered, the tantalizing aromas enveloping her like a warm and inviting hug. The tent''s interior was cozy and cramped, with shelves and counters displaying a variety of unusual trinkets, artifacts, and knick-knacks.

    Behind a cluttered countertop sat an older man wearing a flat cap, spectacles, a coat, and a scarf, no doubt a preventative measure against the Ironworks'' soot and filth. His weathered face sported a salt-and-pepper beard.

    "Good evening. Welcome," the older gentleman greeted.

    "Yo. Sup," Aubrey tipped her cap. "Looking for Fentworth."

    "You''ve found him. How may I help you today?" Fentworth inquired.

    Aubrey appraised the goods and wares. Lots of interesting merchandise and junk. Odd contraptions. Ancient-looking tools. Foreign books and tomes. Curved daggers and ornaments. Exotic spices and seasonings. Various oddities and baubles.

    "Looking for a glamour. Illusion. Mask. Hide my face. Alter my looks. Got any?" Aubrey described the requirements.

    Fentworth stroked his salt-and-pepper beard.

    "Hmm. Yes. Yes. Follow me. Back here. I''ve a few candidates that fit your wishlist."

    Fentworth exited from behind the countertop and led Aubrey deeper into the tent. Behind a heavy curtain was a storage area containing even more bizarre and peculiar items.

    After a bit of searching, Fentworth rummaged through his inventory and produced a wooden box. Opening the container, Aubrey discerned a weathered mahogany mask that looked more like a carved sculpture than an actual article used to cover the face.

    "This, my dear customer, is called the Facsimile Mask. It has the ability to disguise and transform you into someone else, allowing you to hide your true appearance and masquerade as a completely different person."

    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    Fentworth demonstrated and placed the mask on his face. Instantly, his features morphed and transformed, the wood and materials flowing like molten clay. Aubrey watched as the Facsimile Mask''s surface contorted and shaped itself to resemble her face¡ªon Fentworth''s body.

    Nightmare fuel. Aubrey shuddered.

    "Cool. Creepy, but cool."

    Fentworth seemed to pull the face off his visage, returning the wooden sculpture back to its original condition.

    "Any caveats or trade-offs?" Aubrey inquired. "No downsides. Drawbacks. Price to pay?"

    "It depends... on how long and frequently you intend to wear it, and how much of your appearance you intend to alter. For short durations, it''s safe. However, prolonged usage or continuous wear can cause a deterioration of your mental fortitude and willpower. Eventually, the Facsimile Mask will erode the boundaries between the real and the fake, causing your thoughts and personality to become confused, indecisive, and unsure.

    Additionally, if the mask disguises too much of your physical features, it can cause your body to become unstable and uncertain of its shape and form, resulting in headaches and nausea. Lastly, if you attempt to conceal everything about yourself, including your voice and mannerisms, the Facsimile Mask can convince you that you''re an entirely different person, causing you to lose track of your original identity and forget who you really are."

    "Wait, so this mask can change everything about me? Even my voice and my body?"

    Fentworth nodded. "Yes. It''s quite powerful. But the longer and the more you use it, the higher the risk of losing yourself and forgetting who you really are. Ultimately, it''s up to you whether or not the benefits outweigh the consequences. I recommend only altering your face and hair, and only using it for a few hours at a time. That way you minimize the risks. Beyond that... well, you''d best tread lightly."

    Aubrey scrutinized the mask and pondered Fentworth''s explanation.

    "Cost?"

    "Thirty pound sterling," Fentworth stated.

    Aubrey blinked. She rummaged through her pockets, pulled out her coin pouch, and peeked inside: One sovereign, twenty-five shillings, and several pence.

    A sovereign was valued at one pound sterling, or twenty shillings.

    Fuck. Nowhere close to enough. Can''t even barter my way out of this one.

    Her shoulders sagged. "I''ll uh, come back later with the funds. Can I reserve it?"

    "Certainly."

    Aubrey sulked and exited the tent. Damn. Costs an arm and a leg. She wasn''t even certain that the Facsimile Mask was a necessity or essential. Perhaps she could conduct espionage and reconnaissance without it.

    Then again... better safe than sorry.

    Maybe she could scrounge and scavenge enough coins and funds. Aubrey racked her brain and recalled the concert profits and proceeds. How much did they earn last gig? Forty shillings? Fifty-ish shillings? Maybe sixty shillings?

    Yeah, no. Those are not sums that could allow her to purchase the Facsimile Mask anytime soon.

    Dammit.

    Should she steal the mask? Aubrey dismissed the impulse and notion. Nah. Too risky. Fentworth probably installed security measures and contraptions. Best leave the Facsimile Mask alone. Aubrey could earn sufficient funds overtime.

    Hopefully.

    Before Aubrey returned to the church, a poster plastered against a board full of announcements and advertisements caught her eye. She read the poster and its contents.

    UNDERGROUND TUNNEL RUMBLE

    COME ONE. COME ALL.

    GATEKEEPERS: Big Sam and The Fatman

    ENTRY FEE: 10 Shillings (to participate)

    1ST PLACE PRIZE: 50 Sovereigns + Entry Fee Returned

    2ND PLACE: 25 Sovereigns

    3RD PLACE: 10 Sovereigns

    EVERYONE ELSE: GETS NOTHING

    RULES:

    1. No weapons.

    2. No items.

    3. No armor or padding.

    4. No cheating or foul play.

    5. All disputes will be settled by the two Gatekeepers.

    6. All decisions are final.

    7. Participation is voluntary. No refunds or returns.

    8. Good luck and may the best fighter win!

    Sign-Ups Start NOW. Tournament Begins Tomorrow Night at Midnight.

    Registration Location:

    Dirty Mug Tavern - Gallows Row.

    Sponsors:

    - The Mordenstradt Guilds of Fighters (Official sponsor)

    - The Gallows Row Underground League (Governing Body of Underground Tournaments)

    - The Ironworks Outfitters Association (Vendors and Sponsors)

    - The Montague Estates (Paid Advertising)

    "What. The. Hell." Aubrey''s jaw dropped and her eyes bulged.

    Fifty sovereigns as the Grand Prize? That could finance her purchase of the Facsimile Mask and spare! Plus, return the Entry Fee!

    All she had to do was beat out dozens of competitors¡ªwait, no. They won''t let women participate. Shit.

    Aubrey heaved a sigh. Bummer.

    The prize pool is the juiciest. No way could she miss it. She paced and wracked her mind for alternatives. Then, a lightbulb flashed and went off. An epiphany blossomed in her brain.

    Shorty! The fighter from the fighting pit at the tavern where she met Liza for the first time. Shorty could compete. Shorty could earn Aubrey the winnings. Easy-peasy.

    Time to recruit and enlist a fighter.

    <hr>

    "Shortyyyyyyyyy!!!" Aubrey entered the tavern with the sand pit arena and located Shorty engaged in a drinking game. The short and stocky fighter chugged a tankard brimming with a frothy beverage.

    Aubrey couldn''t help but notice his protruding beer belly. Guess Shorty indulged and gorged himself.

    "Yo. Shorty." Aubrey approached and initiated conversation.

    "Yessssssss??? You''re the gal... gal... who sang and c-cheered for meeee," Shorty slurred, a foamy mess coating his face. "My lucky sooongstress. Come for anotherrrr performance??? My treat. Just buy my drinksss."

    Shorty hiccuped and belched. Yikes. Drunk off his ass. Not the ideal candidate.

    "No performance. Another proposition. Listen. Got a tournament opportunity. Underground. Prize pool''s juicy. Two Hundred Sovereigns."

    "Ssoooovrenssssss???" Shorty''s bleary-eyed gaze attempted focus. "Who''s hostingss???"

    "Ironworks. Underground. Guild of Fighters." Aubrey described the sponsors.

    Shorty pondered. He hiccuped and belched yet again. Gross.

    "Enterrrrrtnnnmnt fee," Shorty sloshed. "How mushhh?"

    "Ten Shillings. Participants fight and square off. I''ll pay for your entrance fee. We can split the earnings. 90-10."

    "90-10. Whhhhy thats so skeeeevie. 80-20," Shorty countered.

    "80-20 sounds good. Deal." Aubrey could work with those terms. Time to seal the agreement and contract.

    Shorty swayed and offered a palm. Aubrey accepted the handshake.

    "Deallll."

    "Great. Now, come on. You have to register today." Aubrey beckoned and hauled the drunken Shorty toward the tavern''s exit.

    "Registerrr? Today???? Okay. Lead the wayyy lady."

    The pair braved the dank and grungy streets of Gallows Row and maneuvered the winding and twisting alleyways toward the Dirty Mug tavern. Aubrey pushed and shoved a stumbling Shorty along, ensuring the fighter maintained forward momentum.

    Soon, the duo arrived.

    Aubrey dragged Shorty toward the tavern''s registration table situated outdoors, near the sign-up board. A bespectacled and scholarly individual manned the desk, sporting a clipboard and a pen.

    "Sign-ups. Register. Here." Aubrey requested.

    "Entry Fee?" Glasses asked.

    "Ten Shillings." Aubrey dumped a pouchful of shillings atop the registration table. Glasses counted and organized the payment.

    "Participant''s name?"

    "Shorty," Aubrey answered.

    "Shorty." Glasses scribbled the response on his parchment. "Final participant. Registration closes now. Here''s your receipt. Give this copy to the Gatekeepers."

    Glasses provided Aubrey two copies: One for the receipt and a duplicate.

    "Thanks," Aubrey thanked Glasses and hauled Shorty towards a wooden bench. The drunken fighter plopped and slumped ungracefully. "You stay here. Rest. Sober up."

    Shorty mumbled incoherent responses. Aubrey rolled her eyes and shook her head. Fine. Whatever. Close enough. Hopefully, Shorty will recover and regain sobriety before the fights tomorrow.

    Aubrey departed the vicinity and ventured back toward the church.

    Mission accomplished.

    Tomorrow''s fight night. Shorty had better not flake. Otherwise... Aubrey will murder the fighter. She''ll bury him six feet under.

    Mark her words.

 Chapter 16: An Abominable Bout

    The next night, Aubrey accompanied a slightly hung-over and subdued Shorty as the pair traversed the damp and dismal alleys and passages, following a small crowd toward a hidden entrance in a secluded alleyway.

    As they neared the secret door, Aubrey noticed strange symbols etched onto the frame.

    ??????????

    "What symbol is that?" Aubrey nudged a recovered Shorty and inquired.

    "That''s the symbol of the Undercroft. It means ''Under Tyranny.''" Shorty responded, his lucidity and awareness appeared to have regained since the previous night. "Not sure why they chose that symbol or motto."

    Aubrey and Shorty blended and merged with the throng queueing at the hidden door. Soon, the crowd funneled and compressed themselves through the narrow entranceway. Aubrey and Shorty followed suit.

    Inside, a dank and dreary tunnel greeted the duo. The passage descended, its walls and surfaces composed of craggy and jagged rocks. Aubrey felt her footing slip and slide against the damp and muddy floor.

    Eventually, the tunnel''s downward trajectory ended, and the throng spread and dispersed, revealing a massive underground chamber filled with spectators, a ring, and an audience area.

    Torches illuminated and bathed the subterranean space with a dim and flickering orange. Aubrey observed a crude cage encircled the chamber''s center. Around the cage were tiered rows of stone bleachers, providing elevated viewing platforms.

    Surrounding the audience area''s circumference and perimeter were several rows of vendors peddling their wares and services. Aubrey surveyed the merchants and their businesses¡ªfood stalls, gambling dens, betting booths.

    "Come!!! Try my spicy and flavorful beef sticks. Cooked slow and roasted. Tender and succulent. Perfect snack. Great appetizer." One vendor hollered and advertised.

    "Place bets. Win huge purse. Place a bet. Choose a winner. Bet today." Another shouted.

    "Drinks. Drinks. Drinks. Buy and try. Spiced ale. Rum. Whiskey. Enjoy. Nurture thirst and parchedness." A third advertised.

    Shorty nudged and nudged Aubrey, leading her toward the registration table, manned by the bespectacled scholar.

    "Shorty. Participant. Check-in." Shorty announced.

    "Number?" Scholar inquired.

    "Fourteen."

    Scholar rummaged and searched through his documents. He scribbled a notation on his clipboard and returned his attention back toward the pair.

    "Here." Scholar presented Shorty a tag. "Wear and display. Identify yourself."

    Shorty accepted the plaque bearing the number fourteen.

    "Welcome. Good luck." Scholar acknowledged.

    Shorty departed from the registration table and sauntered toward a tunnel encircling the chamber''s periphery. Aubrey followed and trailed.

    Shorty veered and navigated his way through the corridor until the pair encountered a makeshift prep area occupied by fighters psyching up and hyping themselves.

    "Number?" A gatekeeper interrogated.

    "Fourteen," Shorty reported.

    "First bout." Gatekeeper indicated and jerked a thumb. "Line up."

    Shorty''s gaze gravitated toward the sand-covered ring. Several fighters already squared and circled each other.

    "Shorty," Aubrey whispered. "Good luck. Kick ass. Beat em. I''ll be up there singing for you. Rock your shit."

    "Thanks. Appreciated." Shorty bowed.

    Shorty removed his tunic and shirt, revealing his exposed torso and physique. Aubrey appraised the fighter''s rippling muscles and bulging biceps. Even his beer belly did little to detract or undermine his intimidating and hulk-like stature.

    Shorty marched and joined the contenders mingling inside the ring''s sandy battlefield. Aubrey navigated the raised tiers and seats, locating an elevated platform suitable for vocal projection.

    "Hey, am I allowed to sing for the combatants?!" Aubrey shouted over at Scholar.

    "Sing? As long as it boosts the audience''s morale and excitement. No restrictions," Scholar affirmed.

    "Great." She unstrapped Hellion''s Cry and tuned the guitar.

    Once ready and prepared, Aubrey strummed a rhythm and melody. Spectators below rotated their heads and gawked, zeroing their sights and attentions upon her. Aubrey channeled her vocal fortitude and projected her voice.

    "LET''S GO SHORTY! LET''S GOOOOOOOOO!" She bellowed.

    Below, Shorty smiled and grinned, raising a fist in support.

    The first match commenced.

    The crowd roared and cheered as Shorty and his opponent faced off inside the makeshift sandpit. Aubrey strummed a riff and a refrain, bolstering and adding additional impact and weight to the conflict.

    The opponent lunged and swung a haymaker. Shorty dodged and ducked the attack. Shorty retaliated with a devastating uppercut, staggering his adversary. Aubrey thundered and belted a note, eliciting cheers and shouts from the spectators.

    The opponent charged and attempted a bull rush. Shorty sidestepped and delivered a knee to the gut. Aubrey shredded a solo, her fingers dancing and twirling across the guitar''s fretboard.

    Even though it looked like Shorty would win this fight handidly, Aubrey didn''t want to take any chances.

    [Ability: "Echo of Vitality" activated! Duration: 180 seconds; Cooldown: 240 seconds]

    [Ability: "Swift Cadence" activated! Duration: 90 seconds; Cooldown: 180 seconds]

    Aubrey tapped into her Banshee abilities and imbued Shorty with her buffs. Suddenly, Shorty moved faster and his dwindling stamina replenished.

    Shorty seized the advantage and delivered a series of lightning-quick blows. The opponent crumpled and collapsed, surrendering and conceding. Aubrey played the triumphant and victorious outro, her strumming and playing resounding and reverberating throughout the underground chamber.

    Match: Won.

    Second Round commenced.

    The cycle and pattern repeated: Aubrey sang and played normally during bouts featuring pairs of other contenders. Whenever it was Shorty''s turn, Aubrey empowered and imbued the fighter with her buffs.

    Meanwhile, the crowd''s enthusiasm escalated and intensified¡ªno doubt due her musical accompaniment and vocals. She noted the spectators'' enthusiasm escalating with each match.

    Soon, Shorty had vanquished and defeated the competition, securing and advancing into the semi-finals. Aubrey utilized Swift Cadence and Echo of Vitality once more, ensuring Shorty''s health and fortitude remained at maximum capacity.

    "Round''s over," the Gatekeeper hollered. "Rest and recuperate."

    Shorty returned toward the prep area, sweat glistening and dripping across his musculature. Aubrey approached and assisted the fighter, fetching him water.

    "Good job, Shorty. On track. Almost done. Semi-finals. Finish and finish strong." Aubrey encouraged and hyped him.

    "Thanks. This never happened before. I barely feel winded and I''m moving faster than usual. This happened before when I heard your singin''. Keep playing and cheerin'' me. Helps a ton."

    "Count on it. I got your back." Aubrey promised.

    She couldn''t suppress her grin. Shorty was a competent fighter, but he had obstacles and issues¡ªlike as endurance and speed. Buffed, however, Shorty was a force to reckon and contend.

    "Semifinals: Number Four versus Number Fourteen," the Gatekeeper bellowed.

    "You''re up." Aubrey pumped a fist and gestured. "Go. Go. Go. Smash him. That two hundred sovereigns as good as ours!"

    Shorty rotated and ambled toward the sand ring.

    Aubrey scaled her designated vocal platform and strummed Hellion''s Cry, initiating an intro and a cadence. Below, the crowd erupted and the spectators'' fervor and passion reached a fever pitch.

    Below, the Gatekeepers instructed the fighters to prepare and ready themselves. Shorty squared and confronted his challenger¡ªa tall, lanky fellow with a build akin to an oiled-up string bean.

    String Bean''s limbs resembled strands of celery. Aubrey wagered his muscle mass equated to Shorty''s beer belly. But, he looked fast and had an insane reach advantage.

    Let''s GOOOOOO, Aubrey mentally communicated. Shorty understood the cue and reciprocated a nod.

    "Final bout commences. Begin!" the Gatekeepers commanded.

    String Bean tested the waters with a jab and a probing stretch. Shorty retreated and evaded the strikes. Aubrey improvised an impromptu refrain and a chorus.

    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

    "SHOOOOOOOOORTTTTYYYYYYY! SHOOOOORTTTTTTTTTYYYYY!!!!"

    The spectators chanted and reciprocated her call-and-response.

    String Bean increased his offensive pressure, throwing quick and successive jabs and straights. Shorty bobbed and weaved.

    Aubrey''s melody and music adapted, adjusting accordingly, matching the tempo and cadence of the bout while continually applying her buffs. There were brief windows where their cooldowns overlapped, causing gaps. Aubrey optimized their timings.

    String Bean advanced and unleashed a combo, weaving a tapestry of jabs, hooks, and crosses. Shorty ducked and sidestepped a majority of the strikes, but a stray jab cracked him on the chin, wobbling him. Aubrey''s heart skipped a beat.

    String Bean capitalized and pressed his attack. Shorty turtled and defended, weathering and enduring the storm.

    Damn it! Shorty needed room. Aubrey''s buffs were still on cooldown. She improvised an epic and climactic instrumental. Below, Shorty absorbed and endured String Bean''s volley of attacks.

    "SHOOOOORTTTTTTTTTY!! DON''T QUIT! YOU''VE GOT THIS. BEAT HIS ASS!!" Aubrey roared.

    When the cooldowns expired, Aubrey refreshed her buffs.

    But just as she felt her voice''s influence reach him, she noticed a subtle shimmer and shift in Shorty''s form. Aubrey abruptly stopped her strumming.

    Slowly, Shorty''s limbs distended and his skin split open, revealing an abomination of tentacles, teeth, and appendages. Aubrey watched in horror as his body ballooned and inflated to unfathomable proportions. His eyes warped and distorted into a dozen gelatinous orbs. His mouth yawned and unhinged into a cavernous maw of gnashing fangs and clicking mandibles.

    As the transformation completed, the creature that had once been Shorty unleashed a primal screech, sending the spectators fleeing and scattering.

    "Unhallowed! UNHALLOWED! RUN!!" Gatekeepers screamed.

    Aubrey could not tear her gaze away. She was frozen in terror and awe.

    The monstrosity surged and consumed his opponent, tearing the unfortunate String Bean limb from limb. Blood and viscera coated the sand and splattered the chamber''s surroundings.

    She could hear the muffled dying screams and pleas emanating from within the creature''s stomach. Soon, the muffled cries and shrieks ceased.

    The monster scanned and roved, surveying and appraising its surroundings.

    Finally regaining her senses, Aubrey scrambled and evacuated the premises, joining the hordes of fleeing spectators. She dashed and maneuvered her way through the dank and dreary tunnel, clawing and pushing her way past the panicked crowd.

    Behind her, a deafening roar shook and trembled the underground chamber. Aubrey glanced back and witnessed a deluge of tentacles and appendages emerging from the subterranean arena.

    Oh shit oh fuck oh shit OH FUUUUCKKKK!! Aubrey sprinted and hastened her retreat, fear propelling her forward.

    Above, the stampede of panicked and frenzied spectators funneled and compressed their way through the tunnel''s entrance, scrambling to escape. Aubrey struggled and fought against the surge and current.

    Suddenly, the tunnel quaked and rumbled, exacerbating the panicked crowd''s hysteria and desperation. Aubrey shoved and elbowed her way forward, not willing to become a victim.

    Behind her, a swarm of writhing and pulsating tendrils slithered and snaked their way toward her direction.

    OH FUUUCCCKKKK!! Aubrey redoubled her efforts.

    Finally breaching the tunnel''s entrance, Aubrey burst and emerged outside the alleyway. Around her, the frantic horde dispersed and scattered.

    Aubrey''s terrified gaze rotated and focused toward the hidden entrance.

    Emerging from the tunnel''s aperture were the monstrous appendages, reaching and grasping blindly for fleeing victims. It managed to snag a few unlucky stragglers as they attempted to escape.

    Their agonized and despairing screams echoed and ricocheted off the alley''s walls. The tendrils held them aloft, their bodies hanging limply. Aubrey watched in horrified fascination as the appendages pierced and punctured their victims.

    Moments later, the bodies morphed and twisted, transforming into hideous and malformed monsters similar to the creature that had once been Shorty. The newly formed horrors screeched and cried, echoing throughout the alleyway.

    The original monstrosity then slowly squeezed and compressed itself through the narrow tunnel entrance. In its wake was a trail of viscera and organs that trailed behind it like a macabre smear.

    Aubrey turned heel and ran, but a tentacle snatched her by the ankle. The appendage hoisted her upside down. Panic-stricken, Aubrey futilely struggled and tugged, attempting to free herself.

    But to no avail.

    Her captor hauled her into its waiting maw of serrated fangs.

    "Fuck off!!" she cursed, activating Hellion''s Cry''s battleaxe form.

    With all her strength, she swiped at the appendage restraining her leg, severing it with a single stroke, sending Aubrey tumbling and crashing hard onto the pavement.

    Ignoring her minor scrapes and cuts, she staggered to her feet and resumed her flight. The creature''s death wails and shrieks nipped at her heels. Aubrey dared not look back.

    Damn it! What the hell happened back there? Why did Shorty suddenly turn into an abominable horror? Was he originally a monster masquerading as a human? No. That couldn''t be. Surely she would have sensed that.

    Then did that mean that someone from the crowd turned him into one using some sort of magic? How else would that explain the sudden transformation?

    Aubrey''s thoughts whirled and swarmed. She replayed the sequence in her head and recalled the shimmer she saw just before Shorty''s transformation. Something happened to him then. It must have triggered the change. But who or what caused it? And how?

    Shit! There goes our fifty sovereigns!

    Wait... MY fifty sovereigns! Sonovabitch!

    She needed to go back down there and retrieve the money. But that thing was dangerous, especially after it spawned two more minions.

    No. What was she so scared of? She wasn''t a human, she was an Unhallowed¡ªa Banshee! That damn thing was just a glorified tentacle abomination. She can wipe the floor with it! Probably! And she had a legendary guitar-axe! It cut good!

    Aubrey skidded to a halt and turned on her heel, rushing back to where the creature had first emerged from the tunnel. She brandished her guitar-axe in a white-knuckle grip as she steeled herself for the confrontation.

    She hadn''t really paid attention to it until now, but the music that accompanied the creature sounded like a discordant mixture of dark ambiance and industrial noise. It grated on her ears and gave her goosebumps.

    Even the visual cues that accompanied the melody felt out of place. The shimmering lines that danced across her field of vision flickered and warped, making it harder for her to predict the path and timing of the creature''s strikes.

    Fortunately, they didn''t seem fast.

    "C''mon you bastard! You owe me two hundred sovereigns! Pay up! I need those winnings!" she shouted angrily as she dove back into the fray.

    The two smaller masses of tentacles and mouths that had burst forth from the other people scuttled toward her in a flurry of clicks and snapping teeth.

    Aubrey swept her axe in a wide arc, cutting through the thicket of incoming tentacles with a powerful blow. She followed up with another slash that bisected the first creature cleanly in half. The two halves of its body spasmed and writhed as it died.

    She took a stance with her axe as the second creature lurched at her. She strummed her guitar, her fingers flying over the strings as she let loose a Vibrakeld.

    [Vibrakeld activated. Cooldown: 38 seconds]

    Thundering notes blasted from the guitar and slammed into the second creature, knocking it off its course. The vibrations traveled along its body, making its tentacles and appendages flail uncontrollably as it tried to regain its bearings.

    Aubrey jumped over its thrashing body and swung her axe in an overhead strike, splitting it neatly down the middle. Her axe cleaved through it so easily that she nearly stumbled forward from the sheer power of her swing.

    But she recovered quickly and brought her weapon down again and again, hacking at the creature until it stopped moving. When the last of its tentacles had gone limp, she relaxed and caught her breath.

    A sudden movement from the corner of her vision caused her to activate a Zyphrendil without thinking.

    [Zyphrendil activated. Cooldown: 45 seconds]

    Swirling shadows coalesced around the guitar''s strings, spewing out and enveloping Aubrey like a protective cloak. The incoming torrent of tentacles and appendages crashed into the dark mist, but the barrier held.

    The shadowy mist expanded outward in a sphere, protecting Aubrey from harm and repelling the writhing mass. She could hear the sound of flesh sizzling and burning against the dark energy.

    "Pay up, you fucker!" she spat at the large creature that had been steadily approaching her.

    [Thraunquill activated. Cooldown: 30 seconds]

    With a deft flick of her wrist, she strummed her guitar again and unleashed a barrage of spectral blades that tore through the incoming tentacles and struck the main body dead center.

    The blades burrowed deep into the creature''s mass, leaving behind smoking wounds that sizzled and hissed. The creature screeched in pain as the spiritual blades continued their journey from the inside.

    [Vibrakeld Ready. Cooldown: 0 seconds]

    Aubrey strummed her guitar again and launched another blast of thundering notes, sending the creature reeling back. It tried to defend itself by raising its remaining appendages in front of it in an attempt to absorb the brunt of the attack.

    But Aubrey wasn''t done yet.

    She charged forward and swung her axe, slicing through a bundle of appendages and striking the main body once again. She followed it up with a Zyphrendil to block an incoming counter-attack and then finished the combo off with another Thraunquill.

    Again and again, she unleashed her attacks. Every time the creature tried to launch a counter-attack, Aubrey would disrupt it with a Vibrakeld or a Zyphrendil. When either was on cooldown, she relied on her Harmonic Synesthesia and passive skills to dodge the incoming strikes.

    Even with the dissonant and disturbing music, she was able to anticipate and avoid the creature''s movements. Eventually, the creature''s appendages withered away until all that remained was its main body.

    Aubrey seized the initiative and rushed the weakened monster. With a mighty yell, she chopped her axe into the creature''s core repeatedly. Its body shuddered and convulsed with every strike, but Aubrey kept going.

    "We had a deal, Shorty! We had a fucking deal!"

    She channeled her anger and frustration into her swings, swinging her guitar-axe again and again. Until finally the creature fell silent and collapsed to the ground with a wet thud.

    Aubrey stood among the carnage, panting and exhausted. Sweat dripped from her brow as she surveyed the aftermath of the battle. Her knuckles ached and throbbed from the exertion, but it was well worth it.

    [You¡¯ve acquired a moderate amount of experience]

    [Your Rank has increased from Adagio to Andante]

    [You have 2 unused Talent Points]

    [You have 2 unused Ability Points]

    [You can increase two of your attributes by one grade]

    Nice. It had been a while since she increased in rank. The weekly concerts with the band gave her a steady amount of experience. Guess this fight tipped her over the edge.

    But she''ll have to worry about that later.

    Onwards to the original plan¡ªloot the venue. The organizers probably forgot to flee with the prize money since the whole thing went sideways. And Aubrey planned on getting her share¡ªor maybe just all of it. After all, she earned it.

    She descended back underground and entered the ruined chamber. Her eyes widened in surprise as she witnessed the aftermath of the chaos. Broken chairs and debris littered the space. Corpses were strewn about. The smell of death lingered in the air.

    After looking around for a bit, no cash box was in sight. But she knew it had to be around. Probably kept in a secret safe. If she had to guess where the safe''s location could be, then she''d put her money on one of the walls of the chamber.

    But why bother guessing when she could just locate it in a different way.

    She brandished her guitar-axe and strummed a simple tune.

    [Lumivox activated. Cooldown: 12 seconds]

    A pulse of light resonated from the guitar and illuminated the entire chamber. Slowly but surely, the light revealed the outlines of various objects and structures. Among the silhouettes was a faint outline of a hidden compartment beneath one of the walls of the chamber.

    A secret safe. Exactly where she thought it would be.

    "Found you."

    When the pulse had subsided, she approached the wall and began hacking at the bricks and stones. Chunks of worked stone and brick flew everywhere as she cut through the solid materials. Soon enough, the two metal boxes came into view.

    Aubrey grabbed one and shook it while listening carefully. The sounds of coins rattling against metal confirmed her suspicions. Money. Lots and lots of money.

    She pocketed the box and went for the other one. It sounded emptier than the other one but might have valuables. Who knows? Either way, Aubrey planned on taking it all.

    She exited the underground arena and made her way back toward the surface. As she walked through the empty streets, a shiver ran down her spine. The events from earlier kept replaying in her mind.

    Just what exactly was an Unhallowed?...

 Chapter 17: Whistleblower

    Aubrey spent the morning lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling while scrolling through the various skill trees displayed by the System. She had already distributed the attribute points she got from gaining a rank-up.

    She opted to increase her Tempo and Riff attributes by one grade each. Having more speed meant having more survivability when things went south. But most importantly, she wanted to get around faster. As for Riff, she didn''t know exactly what it was used for, but the description made it sound like it measured her improv.

    No way its low grading could be right. Improvisation was one of her ace cards. She had to remedy that.

    [Increasing your Tempo attribute enhances your agility, dodge chance, and hit rate. It also decreases the cast time of skills and abilities.]

    [Increasing your Riff attribute decreases the cooldown of skills and abilities. It also increases your critical chance as well as the success rate of skill-cancels.]

    Skill-cancels? Why would she ever cancel her skills?

    There was probably more to it, but she¡¯ll dive down that rabbit hole later. She decided to continue on and check her status window:

    [Name: Aubrey]

    [Race: Revenant]

    [Variant: Banshee]

    [Rank: Andante]

    [Attribute: Grade]

    [Tempo: D] ?

    [Dynamics: B]

    [Timbre: D]

    [Pitch: C]

    [Harmony: E]

    [Resonance: E]

    [Cadence: D]

    [Riff: E] ?

    Now, she just had to spend the talent points and ability points. There were a lot of options to choose from and so many directions she could go. Unlocking Tier 2 skills only required her to have achieved the Rank of Andante and have one Tier 1 skill for that particular branch.

    After spending an hour ruminating and deliberating, she decided on the following skills:

    [Sonorous Counterpoint (Sonata Path, Tier 2, Active Skill): A counter-attack skill that activates upon a successful parry, dealing damage and disorienting your opponent. Cooldown: 10 seconds]

    [Veil of the Hidden Stretto (Fugue Journey, Tier 2, Passive Skill): Enhances stealth capabilities, making you harder to detect when moving.]

    The second one would be especially useful for snooping around the Blackwell factories. Plus being stealthier always helped in other situations. She got into enough trouble as is. The more ways to evade authorities or escape dangerous situations the better.

    For her Banshee abilities, she chose one from each branch:

    [Dissonant Chord (Banshee''s Lament, Tier 2, Active Ability): Emits a dissonant note that confuses a single enemy, making them attack their allies for 18 seconds. Cooldown: 30 seconds]

    [Warrior''s Hymn (Banshee''s Aria, Tier 2, Active Ability): Increases attack power by a moderate amount for you and all allies within twenty meters. Duration: 40 seconds. Cooldown: 90 seconds]

    Both of these should come in handy in various situations. And Aubrey found herself in various situations pretty often lately.

    Having finalized her selection, she closed her interface.

    Her thoughts drifted to the events from the night before. The creature and Shorty. She had so many questions, but no answers. Just who or what could have transformed Shorty into an Unhallowed? And how?

    She headed downstairs and made her way towards Cedric, finding the gargoyle doing his usual round of maintenance work within the Cathedral. He polished the various religious artifacts and statues, cleaning them meticulously with his rough, stony hands.

    How the hell did that work?

    "Hey Ceddy," Aubrey greeted.

    "Aubrey," the gargoyle acknowledged.

    "Question."

    "Answer?"

    "What the hell is an Unhallowed?"

    Cedric paused mid-polishing and placed the artifact he had been attending to. He turned around to face Aubrey. "It is a label that humans use to describe creatures such as us," Cedric replied, gesturing at himself and then at Aubrey.

    "Creatures like us?" Aubrey asked.

    "Yes. Creatures whose origins lay in the realm beyond. Creatures touched by eldritch energies. Creatures whose forms and natures violate the natural order. Monsters," Cedric explained solemnly.

    "¡®Tis a shameful moniker. Though fitting," Thaddeus chimed in, startling Aubrey. The automaton sauntered towards them, his clockwork parts and gears whirring and clicking with every step.

    "Damn it, Thaddy. Wear a bell or something," Aubrey scolded.

    "My apologies. But ye raised a curious inquiry. I do wonder: Is thou experiencing difficulty assimilating with humankind? Are thy monstrous urges threatening to expose thee?" Thaddeus inquired, cocking his brass head to the side.

    Aubrey didn''t appreciate the insinuation. Sure. She had violent tendencies and impulses. And yes. She did have murderous thoughts regarding the four people involved in her death. That didn''t make her a monster.

    "Nope. It just got me thinking, since last night I saw someone turn into a tentacle monster out of the blue. Any idea what the hell''s up with that?" Aubrey countered.

    Cedric and Thaddeus exchanged glances. Cedric spoke first. "I have picked up on rumors over the years about Eldritch cultists performing rituals and converting members into Unhallowed. Perhaps the individual you saw was one such victim."

    Thaddeus chimed in next. "Verily, ''tis a nefarious practice. Yet, ''tis also believed that conversion is a voluntary process. Meaning that whoever underwent such procedure did so willingly. Tis the belief that eldritch energies offer salvation, and greater power. A foolhardy and misguided notion."

    Huh. Cultists and eldritch energies. Great combination. Aubrey knew jackshit about such groups. She did recall those graverobbers mentioning something about a Twilight Cabal. Could that have connections to this eldritch stuff?

    Maybe she''d dig deeper.

    "So. These cultists convert folks. Turn them into monsters. Why? For what reason?"

    "Power. Corruption. Perversion. Deviancy," Thaddeus responded. "All reasons attributed to wicked beings. Tis a despicable practice. Those converted lose their sense of self and transform into monsters driven only by a desire for violence and destruction."

    That aligned with what Aubrey had seen. Shorty initially didn''t exhibit signs of aggression, but soon after the transformation, he attacked everyone indiscriminately.

    A memory flashed within her head, and she recalled Shorty''s flesh shimmering moments before he transformed. She described the phenomenon to Cedric and Thaddeus.

    Both exchanged knowing looks.

    "Could''ve been an activation catalyst. Such a thing can trigger a transformation," Cedric surmised.

    "Verily. An incantation uttered in tongues. An object wielding eldritch properties. Even emotions and stimuli can invoke such a response," Thaddeus elaborated.

    Great. So, anyone could have triggered Shorty''s transformation.

    Aubrey ruffled her hair and groaned in frustration. This investigation and clue-digging business sucked. She felt like she was grasping at straws. Not only that but the knowledge that eldritch cultists were running amok complicated matters.

    Those fuckers would be added to Aubrey''s hitlist. If they kept turning people into abominable horrors, then who the hell would be left to go to their concerts? She couldn''t imagine a crowd of mindless monsters jamming. That would suck.

    "Alright. Thanks, guys. Appreciate the exposition dump." Aubrey sighed, shaking her head.

    Cedric nodded in acknowledgment. Thaddeus bowed ceremoniously.

    "Always a pleasure educating those ignorant and naive," Thaddeus remarked. Aubrey shot him a dirty look. Thaddeus offered a mechanical shrug and ambled away.

    Asshole. Aubrey swore that automaton loved taunting her.

    Whatever. She had other business to do today.

    She gave Cedric one of the coin-filled boxes she pilfered last night. Aubrey had opened both containers and was surprised to find them filled to the brim with pure gold and platinum. All sovereigns.

    Sure, she planned on keeping a sizeable share, but she wasn''t a complete asshole.

    "Cedric, add this to our treasury. Got eighty-five sovereign last night. I''m only gonna be using about a fifty. Keep the rest secure."

    Cedric accepted the hefty box and nodded. "Understood."

    Aubrey bid her gargoyle friend goodbye and departed the Cathedral. The Facsimile Mask was waiting for her.

    <hr>

    Aubrey mulled over Fentworth''s warnings as she stepped out into the smog-laden twilight of the Ironworks district, the Facsimile Mask securely tucked under her arm. She had a plan¡ªa dangerous one, no doubt¡ªbut necessary if she was to weave her way undetected through the web of conspiracies shrouding her murder.

    And besides. She was tired of tiptoeing around in the shadows. Tired of waiting.

    Sure. Performing with the band had been a welcome distraction. It was fun. Liberating. Made her feel alive. If she could just live and enjoy such moments, day-in and day-out, she''d be happy.

    But her thirst for revenge never subsided. It was always there in the back of her mind.

    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    If anything, the incident with Shorty last night ignited the flames of vengeance, further fueling her resolve.

    Aubrey traversed the winding cobblestone streets and alleys of the Ironworks. Smoke billowed from factory stacks and belched from the numerous chimneys. Steam-powered carriages clanged and clattered past her.

    Everywhere she looked, workers toiled and labored, slaving away. The rhythmic banging of iron and steel resonated amidst the din.

    She turned the corner and entered a secluded alleyway. After ensuring she wasn''t being tailed, Aubrey fitted the Facsimile Mask on her face.

    Instantly, the mask shifted and contorted, molding and forming around her countenance. Aubrey winced as a strange tingling sensation prickled her skin. She could feel the mask''s material crawling and creeping across her cheeks and forehead.

    She resisted the urge to rip the infernal thing off and cast it aside. Instead, Aubrey gritted her teeth and endured, focusing on the look she wanted to achieve.

    <hr>

    Aubrey¡¯s steps echoed quietly in the narrow backstreet as she strode purposefully through the twisting labyrinth of soot-covered brick and mortar. She pulled the brim of her cap lower, shadowing her eyes, now a mundane brown thanks to the Facsimile Mask''s temporary alteration. Her hair, usually vibrant and eye-catching, was now a short dull blonde.

    She wore a plain and inconspicuous ensemble consisting of a simple white shirt underneath a charcoal-colored vest and a gray coat. She also donned a pair of sturdy work trousers and heavy boots.

    Not exactly something a woman would normally wear, but Aubrey cared little for societal norms and conventions. Besides, practicality won over fashion. She could have just opted to make herself look like a man, but didn''t want to risk any potential dangers from using the mask to that extent.

    Better safe than sorry.

    The streets of the Ironworks were alive with the end-of-shift bustle, workers trudging home, their faces etched with the day''s toil. Aubrey moved among them. Yet, her goal wasn''t to blend in, not entirely. She needed information, a way into the heart of Blackwell''s operations, and for that, she required someone on the inside.

    Her steps led her to a grimy tavern known among the locals as The Molten Pint, nestled between two towering factories. Its sign, worn and faded, creaked gently in the evening breeze. The tavern was a favorite haunt for factory workers looking to drown their sorrows in cheap ale.

    Aubrey pushed open the door, the scent of ale and the din of weary voices greeting her. She scanned the room, looking over the patrons. One table was occupied by a group of soot-stained men engaged in a heated card game. Another was a gathering of bleary-eyed drinkers slumped over their tankards, nursing their hangovers.

    As she roamed around the tavern and scrutinized its inhabitants, her gaze landed upon a man sitting alone, nursing a pint of dark ale, his posture relaxed yet somehow alert. Aubrey couldn''t explain it, but something about him seemed off compared to the others.

    She edged closer, dissecting the man''s appearance with methodical attention.

    His hands bore the tale-telling signs of an artisan¡ªcalloused, yet with a precision in their form that spoke of skilled labor beyond the rough handling of raw materials. The subtle burns on his forearms, partially concealed beneath the cuffs of his worn shirt, were consistent with those who worked near the intense heat of smelting furnaces, yet they were too precise, lacking the random distribution expected from a typical foundry worker.

    His clothing, though dusted with the ubiquitous soot of the district, was of a quality a notch above his peers. The fabric, though faded, was cut in a style that favored function over fashion, suggesting a role that required mobility and authority.

    The boots, peeking from beneath the table, were well-worn but reinforced in areas subject to wear from operating machinery¡ªindicative of someone who not only supervised but also participated directly in the production process.

    A small, leather-bound notebook peeked from his jacket pocket, its edges worn from frequent use rather than neglect. Beside his drink, a sophisticated-looking pen was carelessly placed, its design far removed from the simple quills and inkpots found in the hands of the average worker. It was the kind of pen used for signing contracts or marking schematics, not for jotting down orders or tallying hours.

    The most telling sign, however, was the subtle emblem stitched into the cuff of his sleeve¡ªa small, intricate gear entwined with a stylized "B." It was partially obscured by the sleeve, likely an oversight he hadn''t considered.

    Aubrey''s mind pieced together the clues until her conclusion settled firmly into her mind.

    Likely, this man was an engineer or a foreman, someone with intimate knowledge of the production processes. More importantly, that stylized symbol branded discreetly on his clothing was the same symbol she saw engraved on gates and buildings.

    Blackwell Industry sigil.

    This man was a perfect candidate.

    Wow, I could work as a damn good detective.

    Aubrey didn''t think she had it in her to be this perceptive and clever. Perhaps her intuition was heightened by the game-like progression offered by the System. Either way, it was a welcome trait¡ªshe needed every edge given to her in order to find her murderers.

    She sauntered casually towards him and leaned against the bar, careful not to draw unwanted attention. Aubrey flagged the bartender, ordering a pint of ale. While awaiting her beverage, she stole a quick glance at the Blackwell engineer.

    The man had a rugged charm despite his shabby appearance. Aubrey guessed him to be in his early forties or late thirties. Dark stubble covered his jaw and his hair was slightly matted. He sported a pair of spectacles perched atop his nose. His face carried an expression of exhaustion and weariness, no doubt due to the grueling demands of his occupation.

    Aubrey sipped her ale, savoring the bitter taste as she discreetly observed him.

    The engineer sat hunched over the bar, nursing his drink, seemingly oblivious to the world around him.

    "Evening," she greeted, her voice modulated slightly by the mask''s enchantment to a tone neutral and unassuming. "Mind if I join?"

    The man glanced up, his weary eyes briefly flitting to the emblem on his cuff as if suddenly conscious of its exposure. He covered it with his other hand, a small movement, but telling.

    "Be my guest," he replied gruffly.

    Aubrey slid onto the adjacent stool. She ordered another drink and sipped silently. She didn''t say anything more. Her strategy wasn''t to immediately engage him. She needed to assess the man first. Get a read on his temperament.

    She waited patiently for him to initiate conversation.

    "What brings you to a dive like this?" the engineer finally asked, breaking the awkward silence.

    Aubrey shrugged noncommittally. "Needed a drink. Same as you. Saw no difference. Figured any tavern''s as good as the next. So, what do you think of the ale?"

    The man offered a half-smile, the first crack in his guarded demeanor. "Depends on how bad your day was. Makes everything taste like the finest brew by the end of a shift."

    Aubrey chuckled, the sound hollow and subdued. "That bad, huh? Work in the factories long?"

    "Long enough to know better," he muttered, taking another sip. His eyes flicked up to meet hers, a mixture of curiosity and resignation in his gaze. "The factories don''t run themselves. Someone has to keep ''em humming. What about you? New here?"

    Aubrey weighed her answer carefully. Too obvious an invitation and the man would clam up. Too vague a reply would raise suspicion. She opted for somewhere in the middle.

    "I suppose you could say I''m a newcomer. Been doing odd jobs here and there." Aubrey sipped her drink and lowered her voice, adopting an air of melancholy. "Can''t seem to stick anywhere, though. But I¡¯ve heard stories about the Blackwell factories. Always figured places like that employ a ton of folk. Maybe I could find a place there."

    The mention of Blackwell stiffened his posture, a subtle but telling reaction. "And why would someone like you be interested in factory tales?"

    "Just curious," Aubrey said, maintaining her facade. "Thought working for them might be an option. But I¡¯ve heard... things. Wanted to get the lay of the land before jumping in."

    The man¡¯s expression softened slightly, a hint of sympathy in his features. "Fair enough. But word of advice: Best stay away. The factories aren¡¯t for everyone. Dangerous work, and not just because of the machines."

    "Dangerous how?" Aubrey pressed gently, probing for information.

    He glanced around the dimly lit tavern, ensuring their conversation remained private. "The Blackwells have a way of... ensuring loyalty. You see things, things that aren¡¯t right. And if you¡¯re not careful, you start to disappear like smoke in the wind."

    Aubrey feigned an apprehensive expression and sipped her drink. "Sounds a bit ominous. But surely they can''t just vanish people, can they? Would cause quite a commotion, no? Factory accidents happen and all, sure, but disappearing folk without a trace seems... a bit extreme."

    "Oh believe me. The Blackwells can do anything they want. You see things." His voice dropped to a low whisper. "Those factories, they¡¯re not just about iron and steam. There are more, darker projects. Stuff that doesn''t sit right with a lot of folks."

    Aubrey suppressed a smirk. Things were progressing nicely. She decided to steer the topic further. "Like what?"

    He glanced around nervously before leaning closer. "Surveillance. Control. Things meant to keep us in line, under the guise of progress and safety."

    Woah. This was a scoop.

    "I''m listening."

    "There are factories, hidden ones, where they make these... devices. Not just any contraptions, but ones that can listen, watch, and even change the way people think and feel. They''re experimenting with sound and images, ways to manipulate the masses."

    Intriguing. Aubrey wasn¡¯t sure if she fully grasped the scope of the implications. But hearing him talk gave her plenty of ideas.

    "You''re saying they use these devices in public? To control people?" she asked.

    He nodded grimly. "Seen it myself. Worked on some of them before I couldn''t stomach it anymore. The things they''re planning, it''s not right."

    Aubrey maintained her casual fa?ade. She didn¡¯t want to come across too eager.

    This all might not have any connection to her case, but a part of her couldn''t help but feel impressed by the sheer audacity. Hopefully they were involved. That way she would have a justification to torch those facilities down.

    "Why not report them? Tell people what you saw? Surely that would bring a lot of heat down on Blackwell."

    The engineer''s expression darkened. "Because no one would listen. Who would believe the ramblings of a disgruntled worker over the words of a noble family? No one. Especially the higher-ups. They''re bought and paid for, spineless. Without proof, no one would bat an eye."

    "What if you stole one of those devices?" Aubrey ventured. "Proof would certainly raise heads. Maybe even spark an investigation."

    He scoffed. "Steal one? Risk my neck? Only a madman would try that. Besides, if I did steal one, where could I go? Blackwell''s reach extends far and wide, and the nobles are no better. Everyone''s in their pockets, lining their own coffers. No. There''s no point."

    "I could help," Aubrey offered, gauging his reaction. "Help you get one of those devices. If it''s proof people want, then we''ll give it to them. Together."

    His expression turned skeptical. "Help me steal one of those things? How? Why? Don''t take this the wrong way, but who exactly are you and what''s your angle?"

    Aubrey pondered her response carefully. She needed a good cover and a damn convincing one. She opted for something relatable and familiar. Something that would appeal to the man''s circumstances.

    "Let''s just say I''m in the same boat. Looking to survive. Make a difference. Hopeless. Alone. Nothing much to lose." Aubrey downplayed her delivery and adopted an air of resigned determination. "Besides, stealing things''s kinda my specialty. I''m willing to wager my odds are better with someone in the know. How about you? Ready for a leap?"

    The engineer''s expression remained cautious but his posture relaxed ever so slightly, the slightest glimmer of hope in his eyes. "Well... I suppose one device can''t hurt."

    Perfect. Aubrey sensed an opening.

    She extended her hand. "Name''s Jane. Pleasure to make your acquaintance."

    He accepted her gesture and gripped her hand. His grip firm and his hand calloused and scarred. "Samuel. Likewise. Though I must warn you. I have a family. If anything happens..."

    Aubrey tightened her grip and met his gaze. "I never met you. You never met me. Simple."

    He offered a slight nod. Satisfied.

    "So, how do I get inside their factories and see these devices?"

    "Not easily. Security''s tight. But I still know a few folks on the inside. Workers who don''t agree with what''s happening but need the job. I can put you in touch. From there... it''s up to you."

    Excellent. Aubrey mentally noted his name and face. Samuel.

    "Well then. Send them my way. I can work my magic."

    They chatted a bit more and hammered out a basic plan. Aubrey learned Samuel was a supervisor for one of the smaller factories tasked with building the surveillance devices. He could smuggle her in as a new recruit and provide her a guided tour of the facilities. From there, she would have free rein to poke around and procure an intact device.

    "One condition, though," Samuel warned. "When this goes south, and it will. You''re on your own. My hands will be clean. Family''s safety depends on it. Understand?"

    Aubrey smirked. Fair enough. She was confident enough in her skills and the Facsimile Mask''s power. Everything should go swimmingly.

    "Completely. No hard feelings. I''m a big girl."

    "Good." Samuel drained the last of his drink and rose, straightening his coat. "Then I''ll send word tomorrow. Be ready. And Jane?"

    Aubrey cocked her head. "Hmm?"

    "Thanks. For listening. I''ve kept quiet for far too long. Feels good to share it with someone."

    "Anytime." Aubrey smiled behind her disguise. Samuel tipped his hat and departed the tavern, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

    Things had gone smoother than she anticipated.

    She had other things in mind after infiltrating the factory. Someone or something there had the answers she needed. Aubrey would ensure the visit would prove fruitful.

    Before the day was over, she needed to get some lockpicks and have Thaddeus teach her how to use them.

 Chapter 18: Illuminating the Veil

    Aubrey lurked in the shadows of the factory floor, her Facsimile Mask concealing her identity. Samuel had escorted her inside and provided a brief tour before returning to his regular duties. Now she was on her own.

    She weaved her way through the maze of assembly lines and equipment. Workers toiled and labored under the harsh glare of the factory lamps, their expressions sullen and resigned.

    As she meandered through the factory, Aubrey noted the presence of guards and overseers watching from the catwalks above. Their gazes lingered longer than necessary, making her wary and vigilant.

    The layout was relatively straightforward¡ªsmelting and refining of raw materials, the forging and machining of the devices, and final assembly and packaging. Every process was closely monitored and tightly controlled.

    She found her opportunity during a shift change. Samuel had advised her to wait for the bulk of the workers to leave before conducting her search. As the day''s shift drew to a close and the workers began departing, Aubrey took her chance and slipped through the closing doors into a restricted wing.

    [Active Effect: Veil of the Hidden Stretto]

    Aubrey found herself in a series of long corridors with offices and meeting rooms on either side. The air in here was cooler and less stifling. The acoustics of the space muffled the clatter and noise of the main factory.

    She continued exploring.

    Occasionally, she came across an office with its door left ajar. Curiosity drove her to peer through the openings. She spied senior engineers and managers at their desks poring over blueprints and documents. Other times, she witnessed briefings and meetings where foremen presented their reports.

    Aubrey lingered and listened.

    But nothing stood out or piqued her interest. She gained a few new insights and details about the factories'' operations, but nothing that helped her.

    Aubrey pressed on, her steps silent against the stone floor. Turning a corner, Aubrey stumbled upon a doorway leading to an isolated room bathed in a soft, ethereal glow.

    She paused at the threshold, taking in the sight.

    Large printing presses lined the room''s perimeter. On the opposite side of the space stood an intricate array of mechanisms and components attached to a series of recording discs and phonographs. Three technicians fussed over an apparatus and inspected its various parts and components.

    Aubrey crept closer and observed their work.

    One technician tinkered with an array of knobs and dials, adjusting the recording equipment. Another handled the phonographs, inserting discs and rotating their various settings. The third technician operated the printing presses, loading them with sheets of paper that shimmered with a faint, otherworldly light.

    With a hiss and a glow, the press came to life, churning out page after page of printed script. One sheet caught Aubrey''s eye¡ªa poster.

    It bore the image of what looked like a prominent figure. A noble. Below the portrait was the caption:

    "Protection. Progress. Prosperity. Support the Blackwell Industries! Together we build a better future."

    Faint, glowing symbols and runes danced across the text, their patterns hypnotic and alluring, before fading into the page. Aubrey sensed a strange sensation emanate from the poster¡ªsomething compelling and persuasive.

    Was this an illusion? Or something more insidious? Aubrey couldn''t tell. But whatever it was, she didn''t like it.

    Something tickled the back of her mind, a sensation akin to a fragment of a forgotten memory, the faintest echo of a melody, distant yet familiar. What did they put in there?

    The printing press whirred and ground to a halt. The technicians ceased their work and inspected the printed pages. They gathered the posters and transferred them to a cart before wheeling them away.

    Aubrey hid and followed from the shadows. The trio deposited the posters into a storage room before returning to their posts.

    Curiosity compelled Aubrey to investigate. She approached the pile of freshly-printed posters.

    The text glimmered and pulsed with an unnatural glow, but soon the effect weakened and dissipated. As she peered closer at the words and the images, Aubrey sensed a peculiar tug at the edge of her mind¡ªalmost like a lure, pulling and beckoning.

    Aubrey focused her will and resisted its influence.

    With trembling hands, she examined the posters, taking care not to touch the print itself. Each poster bore the same message and images. The same compulsion.

    Was this what Samuel meant by devices that could manipulate the masses? If they could do this with print, what else could they alter? Audio recordings? Film?

    Aubrey had no concrete answers. But seeing the posters unsettled her. Whatever the Blackwells were doing went beyond mere propaganda and subliminal messaging.

    This was something else. Something sinister.

    The device that Samuel mentioned should have answers. Aubrey had to find it.

    She searched the storage room, but nothing unusual stuck out¡ªuntil she spotted a box tucked away in a corner.

    Another stash of posters, each bearing the visage of a figure she knew all too well¡ªherself, or rather, the version of her that was murdered. The images were captivating, her eyes on the posters glowing an unnatural shade of blue, her hair a vibrant flame. But it was the slogans beneath that caught her attention:

    "Unity through Harmony!"

    "Follow the Voice of Progress."

    "Aubrey Leads, Mordenstradt Follows."

    What the hell? Was Blackwell Industries endorsing her and her music?

    Aubrey studied the posters, tracing her fingers along the text. The strange pull returned, stronger than before. She resisted its allure and pocketed a poster. She would show Cedric and Thaddeus afterward and seek their insight.

    Careful not to leave any traces or evidence of her presence, Aubrey continued her search.

    <hr>

    Further down the corridor, she came across a room with its door closed. Unlike the previous offices she visited, this one lacked the telltale signs of occupants: sounds of voices, rustling papers, and the clattering of tools.

    She crept forward and tested the door. It yielded with a soft click. Carefully, she peered through the crack. The space appeared dark and deserted. Aubrey eased the door open and slipped inside.

    The room itself was a stark contrast to the sterile and utilitarian aesthetic of the factories. This was a study fit for a noble: an elegant desk adorned with a polished wood surface and carved legs. Bookshelves lined the walls, filled with tomes and journals bound in leather and embossed with golden filigree.

    Aubrey browsed the shelves and examined the books. Most were technical treatises on engineering and manufacturing. But a few caught her attention: volumes on philosophy and social sciences, and theories on psychology and behavioral manipulation.

    Her fingers brushed against the spines of the books, tracing the titles. Among them, she uncovered an inconsistency¡ªan unassuming ledger tucked away between two ornate volumes. It seemed out of place, its plain leather cover stark against the gilded opulence surrounding it.

    Intrigued, she pulled it from the shelf.

    The ledger was heavier than it looked, filled with pages of meticulous entries, numbers, and names scrawled in a neat hand. Aubrey flipped through the pages, her eyes scanning the figures and notes.

    And then, she saw it: her own name¡ªor rather, "Lady Aubrey," as the entry referred to her¡ªnext to a series of dates and numbers. The entries detailed payments, expenses for costumes, stage sets, and even specific mentions of sound amplification devices used during her performances.

    But it was the name beside the signature on each contract that caught her breath¡ªJulian Blackwell.

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

    The resonance was immediate, a name imbued with a sense of familiarity and dread that clawed at the edges of her fragmented memories. Aubrey wracked her mind but could conjure no solid recollection¡ªonly a vague face. Yet the emotions persisted.

    Anger. Betrayal. Resentment.

    Did Julian have a connection to the person who orchestrated her murder? Was he one of the four?

    Questions swirled through her mind, fueled by simmering rage.

    The financial transactions revealed more than just the extent of Blackwell''s control¡ªthey showed a pattern of investment in specific performances and venues, particularly those equipped with the sound amplification devices and venues known for distributing the arcane-imbued propaganda posters. It was as if Blackwell had been orchestrating not just her career, but her audience''s perception as well.

    Aubrey pocketed the ledger. This was her smoking gun¡ªphysical evidence linking this person''s involvement and manipulation.

    Perhaps the device Samuel mentioned would tie it all together.

    She exited the room and continued her search. All she needed to do now was find that device Samuel talked about and get the hell out.

    Aubrey explored the factory''s isolated wing further. Eventually, the corridor opened up into a large chamber, dominated by an imposing mechanism¡ªan elaborate, cylindrical structure adorned with lenses, crystals, and arcane circuitry.

    Suspended at the center of the device floated a crystal prism, its facets radiating an ethereal blue light. Around the apparatus, a team of technicians and researchers buzzed, monitoring the readings on their instruments and scribbling their notes.

    From her vantage point in the shadows, Aubrey could make out the writings on their clipboards. Arcane equations and mathematical formulas, paired with sketches and illustrations depicting waves and sound oscillations, covered the pages.

    Aubrey watched intently as the technicians huddled around the larger device, their discussions a low murmur she strained to hear. Her gaze drifted across the chamber, noticing several smaller objects placed on a workbench nearby.

    Samuel''s description didn''t do justice to the object¡ªit looked like a vintage film projector merged with a phonograph. Small lenses and crystals dotted the outer casing while brass trumpets and cones protruded from its sides. At the center of the device sat a glowing crystal prism.

    Was this the audio-visual propaganda device Samuel mentioned?

    One of the technicians, a woman with streaks of soot on her face, gestured towards the smaller devices and spoke loud enough for Aubrey to catch snippets of the conversation.

    "...the Luminal Projector prototypes are ready for the next phase of testing. The resonance frequencies have been tuned according to the latest psychological models. The test audience showed a significant emotional shift."

    Aubrey''s heart skipped. Luminal Projector?

    Another technician, a balding man wearing a monocle, nodded in agreement. "Excellent. Let''s commence with the demonstration and observe the results. Time is of the essence and Lord Blackwell''s patience grows thin. If our calculations are correct and the projections align with his plans for the city¡ª"

    "We know the stakes," a third technician interjected. "Now cease your babbling and let''s get to it."

    Monocle man glared at the rude technician but acquiesced. "Very well. Ensure the crystal lens is properly aligned. The last test run showed some distortion in the projected images. We can''t afford any discrepancies; the images must evoke the desired emotions without fail."

    The technicians busied themselves with their tasks.

    Well, she found what she was looking for. All she needed to do now was grab one and bolt. But those projectors were bulky and awkward to carry, let alone conceal. Aubrey cursed internally.

    Time to improvise.

    She assessed her surroundings. Aside from the technicians and their Luminal Projectors, no one else occupied the chamber.

    Perfect.

    Aubrey willed the Facsimile Mask to alter her appearance, changing her face to look like one of the female technicians she saw earlier. Once the transformation was complete, she strolled casually into the chamber and joined the busywork.

    None of the other technicians reacted, preoccupied with their preparations. Aubrey blended seamlessly into the group, picking up a Luminal Projector and pretending to inspect it.

    "Hand it over," the rude technician snapped. "Last time you botched the calibrations and the frequency coils misaligned. And wear your safety goggles. Last thing we need is another incident."

    Shit. Aubrey complied and surrendered the projector. She reached for the safety goggles hanging on a peg nearby and slipped it on. Hopefully, the technician would buy her disguise.

    Rude tech didn''t press further. Aubrey exhaled a sigh of relief.

    She pretended to assist, checking her imaginary checklist and making noncommittal adjustments. As she wandered around the chamber, Aubrey spied a storage cabinet with a glass window and a lock. Inside, rows upon rows of Luminal Projectors gleamed innocuously.

    Time to make her move.

    Keeping her stride natural and her demeanor calm, Aubrey made her approach. The cabinets stood close to the chamber''s exit. Once she secured a Luminal Projector, she could sneak out undetected.

    The key was acting fast.

    Aubrey positioned herself near the cabinet and palmed the lock pick within her sleeve. Careful to shield her actions from the others, she deftly inserted the pick and fiddled with the tumbler.

    Nothing on one. Two is binding. Nice click out of three. Nothing on four... There we go. Click on one, and...

    Got it.

    Within seconds, the lock clicked with a satisfying snap.

    Slowly and steadily, Aubrey cracked the cabinet and retrieved a Luminal Projector, careful not to attract undue attention. Satisfied, Aubrey clutched the device and strolled towards the chamber''s entrance.

    Everything was going smoothly.

    Once Aubrey passed through the doorway and rounded the corner, she would escape the factory and rendezvous with Samuel. Then, she could¡ª

    "Halt!" a technician barked. "Where do you think you''re going?!"

    Scram!

    <hr>

    Aubrey clutched the Luminal Projector tightly, its weight a solid presence against her chest.

    Behind her, a technician pursued, shouting orders to the others. Aubrey didn''t bother glancing over her shoulder. She dashed through the factory, her feet carrying her deeper into the machine-lined corridors.

    Guards emerged from an adjacent hallway, blocking her path. Aubrey veered away and darted down another route.

    She hadn''t made it far when the shrill clang of an alarm pierced the air, its discordant beat jarring against the melody of her foresight.

    Her Harmonic Synesthesia kicked in, casting the world into a vivid tapestry of cues and patterns. A frantic melody thrummed in Aubrey''s ears¡ªthe frantic pulse of her pursuers, their footsteps hammering the steel grilles below her feet, and the pounding urgency of her racing heart.

    Voices and shouts echoed around her. Aubrey ignored the dissonant chaos and honed in on the steady tempo of her breath.

    Keep running. Keep running. Don''t look back.

    A guard rounded the corner, his eyes widening in surprise at the sight of Aubrey clutching the Luminal Projector.

    Glowing lines and arrows appeared in her vision, guiding her movements as the guard reached for the revolver holstered at his side. With a graceful sidestep, Aubrey dodged the guard''s clumsy attempt to grab her, the cues from her Synesthesia painting the guard''s trajectory with crisp clarity.

    The guard recovered and lunged. Aubrey ducked and rolled away, evading the guard''s grasp and avoiding the clutter of machinery that blocked her path.

    She sprinted down the corridor, the projector secure under her arm, as more guards were alerted to the intrusion. The sound of shouting and the clatter of boots on metal floors filled the air.

    As she neared the factory floor, a group of guards armed with swords and a couple brandishing revolvers blocked her path. Aubrey didn''t slow; instead, she focused on the rhythmic patterns that surrounded her adversaries, each guard''s movements telegraphed by pulsating icons and beats.

    "Stand down! Drop the device immediately or we will shoot!" one shouted. Aubrey didn''t heed the warning.

    Instead, she leaped and bounded off a conveyor belt, narrowly missing the bullets whizzing past her head. Her trajectory carried her into a crowd of startled workers and foremen.

    A particularly persistent guard managed to corner her near a smelting furnace, the heat from the molten metal a tangible force. Aubrey could see the trajectory of his attack, a red arrow in her vision signaling an impending swing from his heavy wrench. With a swift roll, she evaded the blow, the wrench clanging against the metal railing and sending sparks into the air.

    In a fluid motion, Aubrey sprang to her feet and kicked a lever nearby, sending a cart full of raw materials careening into her pursuer, knocking him off balance. She didn''t stop to watch him fall; her focus was solely on the exit now visible across the floor, the pulsating beats of her Synesthesia guiding her every step.

    Two guards rushed toward her from opposite directions, attempting to flank her position.

    Time to test out my new ability.

    [Ability: "Dissonant Chord" activated! Duration: 18 seconds; Cooldown: 30 seconds]

    She belted a piercing note, the dissonant vibrato echoing throughout the factory. The guard approaching from her right staggered mid-step before snarling and turning on his comrade.

    The confused guard barely had a chance to react as his companion lunged, tackling him to the floor.

    Perfect. Aubrey raced past the pair, the Luminal Projector safely tucked under her arm.

    The final obstacle came in the form of a guard armed with a bolt-action rifle aimed at her.

    The world seemed to freeze as she locked eyes with him, the slow-motion moment allowing her to see the trajectory of the bullet before it was even fired. A bright yellow line in her vision showed the path of the incoming shot, which she gracefully evaded with a smooth twist and a pirouette.

    Bullets ricocheted off the machinery surrounding her, the guard''s shots wildly inaccurate and wildly imprecise. Aubrey wasted no time, darting through the factory''s entrance and bursting out onto the streets.

    She sprinted through the crowded thoroughfares and weaved through the evening crowds. Behind her, the factory''s alarm continued to blare, its dissonant cry ringing in her ears and drowning out the stunned stares of the passers-by.

    Suddenly, a rhythmic clanking of metal reverberated through the streets. Aubrey glanced over her shoulder and gasped at the sight.

    Arriving on the scene was a trio of security automatons, hot on her tail, their heavy footsteps echoing off the cobbled pavement and their mechanical joints whirring and clicking with each stride.

    Shit!

    Gearbound Constables.

    Aubrey had only seen these things from a distance. People talked about them in hushed tones¡ªboogeymen of the industrial era. Where a human officer couldn''t be bothered to chase a petty thief or enforce the curfew, a Gearbound Constable could pursue relentlessly.

    Now she saw them up close.

    Each automaton stood at the height of a full-grown adult male. Their bodies were clad in riveted iron and brass plates, with glowing runes etched into their casings and pulsating arcane circuitry weaving through their joints and gears.

    Their heads were topped with angular optical lenses and brass horns. These allowed the Constables to scan and track their targets without impeding their vision. Attached to their backs were a pair of extendable batons and nets. Aubrey heard the tales of how the Gearbound Constables'' weapons contained powerful electric currents.

    Fuck. Me.

    Aubrey had no intention of sticking around to learn firsthand.

    With the Luminal Projector in tow, she bolted down the alleyways, the Gearbound Constables on her heels.

 Chapter 19: Gearbound Constables

    Aubrey darted down an alley, her boots slipping on the slick cobblestones. The projector was a cumbersome burden, but losing it was not an option.

    The alley opened up into a small courtyard, enclosed by towering factories on all sides. A dead end. Dozens of curious faces peered through the windows.

    She cursed under her breath, scanning her surroundings for an escape route. Above her, the smokestacks of the factories belched forth their unending plumes, casting the courtyard in an industrial twilight.

    Dammit. Her options were quickly dwindling.

    Then, she saw them¡ªthree Gearbound Constables, emerging from the mist like specters of iron and steam.

    "Stop in the name of the law!" a Gearbound Constable''s voice bellowed behind her.

    Aubrey''s Harmonic Synesthesia flared to life, the musical accompaniment sounding like a Victorian-themed EDM track mixed with industrial noise. Glowing lines and notes swarmed her vision as the automatons stalked closer.

    "Drop the stolen property and surrender peacefully," a Gearbound Constable ordered in a monotone voice, raising its extendable baton.

    Like hell.

    Aubrey summoned her resolve and belted a fierce note. The dissonant vibrato resonated through the courtyard, rippling through the Gearbound Constables and sending them staggering back.

    [Ability: "Dissonant Chord" activated! No effect. Cooldown: 18 seconds]

    [Ability is ineffective against constructs]

    Shit!

    Red lines and beats surged and pulsed. Glowing arrows indicated the constables'' trajectories. Aubrey evaded their heavy mechanical limbs as they lunged and swung.

    Blow after blow narrowly missed her head and body, her Harmonic Synesthesia''s patterns helping her anticipate and dodge the automatons'' attacks.

    Then she heard the telltale click of the Constable''s extendable batons extending and locking into place.

    Oh, shit. Aubrey ducked just as the Gearbound Constables unleashed a barrage of electrically-charged blows. Sparks and flashes of white arced through the air, narrowly missing her and scorching the courtyard''s stone walls.

    She ducked and evaded their swings. Aubrey couldn''t hold up forever; her stamina would give way eventually. And the damn Luminal Projector didn''t help. Heavy-ass piece of crap.

    Desperate and cornered, Aubrey''s only chance was to escape.

    She sprinted towards a refuse bin. Grabbing a hefty brick discarded nearby, Aubrey hurled it at one Gearbound Constable. The improvised projectile struck true, denting the construct''s head.

    The automaton recoiled as cracks spiderwebbed across its lenses.

    "Cease evasive behavior and comply!" the other Gearbound Constable warned, its tone growing irritated.

    Aubrey dove behind the bin, using it as a makeshift barricade as she searched frantically for anything else that could be used as a weapon.

    Her hands closed around a length of pipe, cold and solid. Not much, but it would have to do.

    The first Constable recovered, its baton swinging down towards her hiding spot. Aubrey rolled out of the way, the pipe clutched tightly in her hands. She swung with all her might, connecting with the construct''s arm. The impact sent vibrations up her arms, but the Constable merely recalibrated, unaffected by the blow.

    Aubrey danced back, dodging another strike. She needed to get past them, to find a way out of this dead end and lose them in the alleys.

    Then, she saw it¡ªa narrow passage between two factories, obscured by hanging laundry and debris. It was a tight squeeze, but it might just work.

    The Gearbound Constables advanced, their movements synchronized and relentless. Aubrey waited for her moment, her Synesthesia painting the path to survival in glowing hues.

    As the constructs converged, Aubrey feinted left, then darted right, slipping through the narrow passage with centimeters to spare.

    She emerged on the other side and dashed down a maze of winding alleyways. Aubrey hazarded a glance behind her and saw the Gearbound Constables lumbering through the passage.

    Their bulky forms struggled to navigate the narrow confines. Aubrey seized the chance and put as much distance as she could between her and her pursuers.

    With the Luminal Projector securely tucked under her arm, Aubrey ran until her legs burned and her lungs ached.

    The combat music hadn''t stopped. Uh-oh.

    She glanced back and spotted the Gearbound Constables already gaining ground. Shit. Those bastards were fast. It looked like she needed to fight them after all. She needed a weapon though. Anything.

    Turning a corner, she spotted a smithy''s workshop ahead.

    Perfect.

    She bolted towards the workshop, ignoring the incredulous looks from passersby. Aubrey burst through the door, to the surprise of the smiths working within. She set the projector down on a table and scanned the cluttered workshop for a suitable weapon.

    "Oi! What in the hell are ya doing?! Out with ye! Store''s closed!" one of the smiths exclaimed.

    Ignoring his protests, Aubrey spotted a maul resting against the wall. Its head gleamed with a dull sheen, the haft sturdy and solid. Perfect.

    Grabbing the maul, Aubrey hefted the heavy weapon and tested its weight. It wasn''t Hellion''s Cry, but it would have to do.

    "Oi! Ye deaf, woman?!" The smith lunged for her, indignant and furious. Aubrey pivoted and delivered a swift kick to his torso. The smith crumpled with a grunt and collapsed in a heap. His colleagues erupted into a clamor of shouts and jeers.

    Aubrey paid them no heed and waited for the automatons inside.

    Within seconds, the Gearbound Constables stomped into the workshop, the door splintering to pieces. She braced herself and readied the maul.

    Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    "Surrender yourself for arrest," a Constable ordered.

    Aubrey didn''t respond. She swung her maul with all her might.

    Metal collided with metal, the impact reverberating up her arms. The Gearbound Constable reeled, the force of the blow denting its chassis.

    Aubrey didn''t relent. She unleashed a flurry of blows, her Harmonic Synesthesia aiding her accuracy and precision. Cracks formed in the automaton''s armor, its runes and circuitry flickering and sparking.

    The other two automatons attempted to circle her position. Aubrey feinted and retreated, keeping the workshop''s furniture and equipment as obstacles to prevent them from ganging up on her.

    It wasn''t much, but it would have to do.

    Meanwhile, the smiths scattered, fleeing the workshop in a panic.

    Good. Less civilians to worry about.

    The second Constable charged, its baton crackling with electrical energy, the charge audible as bolts of electricity arced between the prongs.

    Aubrey ducked under the baton''s arc, the Synesthesia''s cues shimmering in warning. She countered with an upward swing, aiming for the Constable''s midsection. The maul connected with a satisfying thud, denting its armor. Sparks erupted from the damaged area, causing the automaton''s movements to falter.

    The third Gearbound Constable approached and lashed out with a series of quick blows. Aubrey parried and blocked the strikes with the maul''s haft, the impact reverberating through the weapon.

    Fuck, her arms and shoulders hurt. Aubrey winced as the automatons intensified their attacks, their movements a whirlwind of blows and sparks.

    If Aubrey couldn''t find a way to deal sustained damage, she wouldn''t last. Her stamina wouldn''t hold up.

    Think!

    She analyzed her options, her Synesthesia guiding her steps, parries, and counters. Somehow, even though they were relentless, the cues and beats were easier to decipher compared to fighting other humans.

    Same timing. Same sequence. Same predictable patterns. Maybe these automatons relied more on pre-programmed algorithms.

    As a Gearbound Constable swung its baton at her, Aubrey ducked and pivoted, the maul''s head dragging a heavy arc through the air, aiming for the third constable''s knee joint.

    [Skill: ¡°Sonorious Counterpoint¡± Activated! Cooldown: 10 seconds]

    The metal groaned under the impact, and for a moment, the construct stumbled, its leg buckling. It wasn''t enough to bring the automaton down, but it gave her an opening.

    But as she was about to follow through with another swing, another Constable launched a net at her from a short range. It engulfed her upper body, the mesh''s weight and size catching her off guard. The tangle of the net and its accompanying metal weights sent Aubrey sprawling to the ground.

    Dammit! Aubrey struggled in the net''s confines as they approached her prone form.

    "Cease resistance or suffer lethal retaliation."

    Fuck that.

    She wriggled and tugged at the net. No dice.

    Desperate, Aubrey did the only thing she could. Summoning her voice, she belted a piercing note, the dissonance rattling the workshop''s foundations.

    [Ability: "Warrior''s Hymn" activated! Duration: 40 seconds; Cooldown: 90 seconds]

    Immediately, her strength surged, and her fatigue faded. Aubrey slowly tore through the net''s confines and freed herself, but not before weathering through a barrage of painful blows from their electrified batons.

    Son. Of. A. Bitch!

    White-hot pain seared through her nerves, her muscles stiff and trembling.

    Aubrey channeled the hurt and converted it into sheer resolve. Gritting her teeth, she hauled herself upright.

    "Final warning. Submission is the only logical course of action."

    Aubrey spat a stream of colorful profanity at the automatons.

    The Gearbound Constables closed in and attacked again. Aubrey evaded their swings and delivered a retaliatory swing.

    The maul''s head connected with the automatons'' armored bodies, sending fragments of metal and sparks flying. Aubrey''s stamina ebbed and weakened as the Warrior''s Hymn''s duration tapered.

    She sang again, this time in a lower and steadier octave.

    [Ability "Echo of Vitality" activated! Duration: 120 seconds; Cooldown: 240 seconds]

    Instantly, a soothing wave of energy washed over her. Aubrey felt the vitality empower her resolve and reinvigorate her flagging stamina.

    She had less than two minutes to end this.

    Adrenaline surging, Aubrey fought through the automatons'' coordinated offensive, trading swings and blunt impacts.

    Seizing a brief advantage, Aubrey scanned the workshop for her next move. Her eyes caught on a chain hanging from the ceiling, attached to a heavy metal beam. A plan formed in her mind, the rhythm of the fight dictating her steps.

    She feinted another swing at the first constable, leading it on a chase around the forge''s fiery heart. The glow from the furnace illuminated the workshop with a warm, flickering light, casting everything in an eerie orange hue.

    As she circled back towards the chain, Aubrey grabbed it and pulled with all her strength. The beam, dislodged from its precarious balance, swung down like a pendulum.

    She dove to the ground, rolling out of its path as it crashed into first constable, pinning it beneath its weight.

    The automaton struggled against the crushing blow but remained trapped.

    One down. Two left.

    Aubrey didn''t celebrate the minor victory. Instead, she spun and swung the maul at the remaining Gearbound Constable with a mighty yell. The weapon''s momentum carried Aubrey with such force that her entire upper body rotated with the blow.

    Crunch!

    The maul connected with the automaton''s chassis. Cracks spread across its armor like veins of a lightning storm, its arcane circuits and runes flickering. Its hydraulics hissed and spurted a jet of steam.

    Aubrey retreated, leading them on a chase through the workshop. She ducked under a suspended chain, weaving through the tight spaces between workbenches and equipment. The Gearbound Constables, less agile, followed doggedly, their bulk causing them to knock tools and materials aside in their pursuit.

    The chase led them to the back of the workshop, where finished projects and large pieces of scrap metal were stored. Aubrey''s eyes quickly scanned the room, her mind racing to compose a plan.

    There!

    She spotted a heavy tarp covering a contraption resembling a mining drill. Casting the maul aside, Aubrey threw the tarp aside and gripped the drill''s handle, activating its motor. The machine''s engine roared to life, its drill bits spinning at an ear-piercing rate.

    Showtime. Aubrey braced and revved the engine.

    With a primal scream, she barreled the drill into the closest Constable. Metal screeched and sparked as the drill''s bit tore through the automaton''s armor, the Constable''s mechanisms and innards spraying shrapnel and sparks.

    Aubrey continued her charge, driving into the last Gearbound Constable and pinning both against the workshop''s stone wall. With a final surge of strength, Aubrey pressed the drill''s bit against the automaton''s chassis and leaned her weight against the handle, the Constable''s futile struggle muffled by the din.

    Click!

    Their chassis gave way and ruptured. Aubrey released the drill and scrambled back. Flames and sparks erupted from their ruined chests. Mechanisms and broken parts rained onto the workshop''s floor. Aubrey backed away, her Synesthesia''s rhythm fading into silence.

    The Constables slumped in a charred, sparking heap, their lights and runes extinguished.

    "Holy shit. I actually did it," Aubrey panted.

    That was intense.

    But there was no time to celebrate. Guards were likely still combing the streets in search of her.

    As she made her way to the projector, the smith she kicked earlier groggily rose and snarled.

    "Ya bloody bint! Ya wrecked me workshop! Yer gonna pay fer this! Yer¡ª"

    Aubrey punched him square in the jaw. He crumpled once again and landed in an unconscious heap.

    Good thing her face was still altered by the mask.

    "Sorry. Not sorry." Aubrey didn''t waste time and grabbed the Luminal Projector. Not sticking around to wait for more guards, she bolted out the back door.

    She ran until her legs ached and her lungs burned.

    Eventually, she slowed her pace and hailed a carriage, her adrenaline fading and the fatigue setting in. She directed the driver to an agreed-upon location and collapsed in the worn seat.

    Aubrey heaved a sigh of relief as the carriage rattled down the cobbled streets.

    Mission accomplished.

    She rested her head against the tattered cushions and closed her eyes.

    [You¡¯ve acquired a small amount of experience.]

 Chapter 20: Blackwellâ€™s Ledger

    Within the cluttered chamber, lit by the glow of electrical bulbs and lamps, Aubrey peered over Thaddeus'' shoulder as the Unhallowed automaton tinkered with the Luminal Projector in front of him.

    Thaddeus hummed tunelessly to himself as he carefully removed the housing and exposed the arcane circuitry inside the device.

    "How''s it looking?" Aubrey prompted.

    "''Tis indeed a curious contraption. Complex yet elegant. Masterfully constructed. Though ''tis a shame that this particular unit is incomplete. Much of its innards appear to have yet to undergo the initial calibration."

    "So it doesn''t work?" Aubrey prodded.

    Thaddeus adjusted the device and traced the wiring with a delicate brass finger.

    "Patience, fair mistress. Observe. While ''tis incomplete, the core components are functional. With but a mere tweaking and adjustment, the Luminal Projector should operate as intended."

    Thaddeus rummaged through a nearby toolbox and selected a small screwdriver. He carefully unscrewed a panel and inspected the component inside. Aubrey watched as he poked and prodded the device, his nimble fingers navigating the complex tangle of wires and gears.

    "See here. These components govern the projection and resonance. And this one generates the visual imagery. Intriguing. Very intriguing," the Unhallowed automaton murmured to himself.

    "So you can fix it?" Aubrey prompted.

    "Of course," Thaddeus replied. "Yet ''twill require the proper components and a bit of trial and error. But ''tis within the realm of possibility."

    "Great. Once you fix it up and make sure it works, let me know. Be careful though. It''s got some... special properties. Might mess with your head a bit," Aubrey warned.

    "Verily. I shall exercise the utmost caution." Thaddeus resumed his tinkering.

    Aubrey retreated and settled on the threadbare sofa in the corner of the chamber. Exhaustion tugged at her limbs and weighed her body. Despite the successful mission, the revelations she encountered still troubled her.

    Julian Blackwell.

    That name resurfaced in Aubrey''s fractured memories. She recalled glimpses of a lavish party¡ªlaughter and polite chatter amongst the mingling guests and a tastefully decorated ballroom. The smell of rich perfume and cigar smoke. Expensive wine and exquisite food. Music playing in the background.

    She had attended as a performer¡ªplaying the piano, singing, charming the guests, and entertaining the wealthy patrons. Julian had been there as well. A distinguished gentleman in a crisp tuxedo, his immaculate appearance and commanding presence drew the admiration of the guests.

    He charmed the attendees effortlessly, regaling them with stories of his business exploits and promising the wonders of his new invention. Aubrey remembered his smile¡ªpolite and genuine. His voice¡ªcalming and reassuring. His promises¡ªgrand visions of a brighter future and a prosperous city.

    Those visions sounded appealing. Aubrey had fallen for his honeyed words and ambitious dreams. Who wouldn''t?

    And yet the memory ended with a haze of confusion and uncertainty. Why was Julian involved in her murder? What did he gain from her death? And what did this device reveal about his ambitions?

    Aubrey didn''t have the answers. Not yet. But she would find them. And she would exact her revenge.

    Lost in thought, Aubrey hadn''t noticed Cedric enter the chamber. The gargoyle padded over and nudged her gently.

    Aubrey stirred from her reverie and acknowledged his arrival.

    "Welcome back." Cedric''s wings unfurled as he stretched lazily. "Success?"

    "Yeah." Aubrey motioned toward the Luminal Projector. "Thaddeus is working on fixing it. Hopefully, it''ll shed some light on things."

    "I see what you did there," Cedric quipped.

    Aubrey chuckled despite herself and gave him a playful shove with her foot. "Shut it."

    Cedric responded with a deep rumble, his tail swatting her leg.

    "Anyway," Aubrey continued. "Thaddeus isn''t done repairing it. But I wanted to talk with you about the posters I discovered at the factory."

    Aubrey retrieved the stolen propaganda poster of herself and presented it to the gargoyle. Cedric leaned closer and scrutinized the illustration.

    "You look different," Cedric remarked. Aubrey could detect a hint of amusement in his gravelly tone.

    Oh, right. She hadn''t mentioned the circumstances of her death yet. Only that she was murdered and had revived to exact vengeance. That simple explanation seemed to have been enough for her three flatmates¡ªor... churchmates? Cathedral-mates?

    Whatever. Technicalities.

    "Yeah," Aubrey admitted. "My appearance changed a bit after the murder and resurrection."

    Cedric raised a brow. Or at least mimicked the motion.

    "Interesting," the gargoyle rumbled. "So the portraits depict how you appeared prior to your demise?"

    "Yeah. But apparently, only my hair and eyes changed. Everything else remained the same," Aubrey clarified, although it wasn''t entirely accurate. Her knockers grew a size or two. But mentioning that detail felt inappropriate.

    Cedric tilted his head and studied the poster.

    "Fascinating. Do these posters indicate a collaboration between the Blackwell Industry and the production of your musical endeavors?"

    "Apparently. But there''s more," Aubrey explained. "I found a ledger indicating a partnership. Blackwell paid for the venues and the sound equipment. Even sponsored the shows."

    Speaking of ledgers...

    Aubrey retrieved the book she stole from Julian''s office and thumbed through the pages. Names and numbers lined the entries. Payments and transactions. Details about venue contracts and sponsorships.

    Among the entries were annotations regarding audiences and surveys, the metrics and results noting reactions and opinions to her performances and lyrics. Other entries looked like personal notes: observations and commentary.

    "Take a look at this." Aubrey showed Cedric the entries as she read them aloud.

    Entry Dated 4th of February 2236:

    Secured a meeting with Lady Aubrey. Remarkable talent, yet untapped potential. Proposal laid out for a series of performances across Mordenstradt, with specific emphasis on showcasing at the Phantom¡¯s Opera House and Velvet Strand. Will require substantial investment in stagecraft and arcane-enhanced sound equipment to amplify her unique voice. Potential for broader influence is considerable. Must proceed with caution, ensuring control remains firm.

    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    Entry Dated 12th of April 2236:

    Agreement finalized with Lady Aubrey for exclusive performances at Blackwell Venues. Generous stipend offered to ensure loyalty and exclusivity. Clause 4b inserted to mandate the use of Blackwell''s patented sound amplification devices in all performances. This will serve as a dual purpose: enhancing her divine voice and testing the crowd''s response to the underlying messages woven into the performance. Results thus far have exceeded expectations. Will monitor and analyze audience feedback. Noteworthy is the inclusion of a nondisclosure agreement, binding her silence on the specifics of our methods.

    Entry Dated 17th of June 2236:

    Promotional posters prepared and distributed. Initial reaction received considerable reception. Stagecraft and props finalized. Recording devices deployed to capture performances and collect data. Results encouraging. Audiences exhibit increased receptiveness to the embedded themes and messages. Additional clause included regarding the dissemination and display of Lady Aubrey promotional paraphernalia. Advertisements and posters will showcase Lady Aubrey and draw additional attendance to her performances.

    Entry Dated 6th of August 2236:

    Negotiations with key officials underway to incorporate our sound devices into public announcement systems. Promised them control over public sentiment in exchange for exclusive contracts. Lady Aubrey''s rising popularity will mask our initial rollouts as mere technological advancements in entertainment.

    Entry Dated 23rd of September 2236:

    Tonight''s experiment with the propaganda posters during Lady Aubrey''s concert was a resounding success. The combination of her performance, enhanced by our Arcane Amplifiers, alongside the strategic distribution of our enchanted posters, resulted in an unprecedented level of audience receptivity. Preliminary reports indicate a marked increase in public support for Blackwell Industries'' initiatives. This dual approach¡ªaural and visual manipulation¡ªholds significant promise for future endeavors. Plans are underway to expand this strategy to other sectors and events.

    Entry Dated 10th of October 2236:

    Growing concerns over Lady Aubrey''s increasing awareness of her role within our arrangements. Her inquiries into the nature of the sound devices and the specific terms of her contract suggest a potential for rebellion. Measures must be taken to reinforce loyalty and dissuade any thoughts of defiance. Additional surveillance to be implemented, both during her performances and in her personal time. The balance between muse and marionette is delicate.

    "Marionette..." Aubrey''s blood boiled at the word.

    So, Julian manipulated her. Used her voice and fame for his agenda. And tried to control her. Aubrey gripped the ledger tight. The urge to rip the book in half and tear Julian''s smug face apart rose within her. She swore the temperature rose within the chamber.

    "Calm yourself." Cedric rested a clawed hand over her shoulder.

    Aubrey exhaled and forced a slow, deep breath, steadying her nerves. Revenge would come. But not until she uncovered the whole truth.

    "Sorry. I''m alright. Just... frustrated. And pissed. Julian had a hand in my murder. Of that I''m sure. And it seems like he''s involved in... something bigger. Something involving the city."

    She flipped through the ledger. More payment logs and entries detailing her performances and venues. Nothing she didn''t already gleam from her prior reading¡ªuntil she arrived at the last entry.

    Aubrey read it silently to herself:

    Entry Dated 11th of February 2237:

    In light of recent developments and Lady Aubrey''s continued expressions of discontent and resistance, a contingency plan has been initiated. Should she prove too recalcitrant or become a liability, measures are in place to ensure the cessation of her involvement in our projects. Her disappearance would be regrettable but necessary; the creation of a martyr could serve to further our narratives of unity and progress under Blackwell leadership. Preparations for a potential successor are underway, one more amenable to our direction and control. The narrative of Lady Aubrey, while powerful, is ultimately replaceable.

    She slammed the book shut and tossed it aside. Bastard.

    Aubrey stormed and paced through the chamber. The urge to punch something¡ªpreferably Julian''s condescending face¡ªboiled within her.

    "Fuck!"

    Cedric approached and nudged her again.

    "Deep breaths," the gargoyle rumbled.

    Aubrey halted her pacing and exhaled. Deep breaths. Right. She did that. In and out. In and out...

    It wasn''t working.

    "Arrogant fucking bastard," Aubrey hissed. "Using me and tossing me aside like a goddamn puppet. Making plans to fucking assassinate me. Asshole. Fucking asshole!"

    Cedric didn''t respond, opting to stand quietly. Aubrey appreciated the gesture.

    "Dammit. Fuck him. Fuck! Him!!"

    "Indeed. Yet ''twould do ye no good to fret," Thaddeus chimed in as he continued tinkering with the Luminal Projector. "Though the machinations of thine adversary are undoubtedly abhorrent and despicable, dwelling on such details will yield naught but frustration and misery."

    "Easier said than done, Thaddy." Aubrey slumped into the couch and buried her face in her palms.

    "True. Yet, would ye permit my suggestion? Engage in a distraction. Practice thy craft. Such activities will prove a beneficial distraction and ease thy ire."

    Hmm. Aubrey pondered the automaton''s advice. Singing and performing always brought her comfort and clarity. And practice never hurt anyone.

    The door creaked open and Liza''s silhouette peeked from the threshold. She timidly entered and paused a few steps from Aubrey.

    "Uhm... Is... everything okay?" Liza asked softly, her hands twisting the hem of her black sundress nervously. "I heard... you yelling."

    "Hey Liza. Sorry. I''m... alright. Just dealing with some... frustrations." Aubrey rubbed her temples.

    "Okay..." Liza glanced around the chamber hesitantly. Aubrey took the cue.

    "Say Liza, Thaddy suggested practicing to take my mind off things. Mind lending me a tune? Maybe play a duet together?" Aubrey prompted. Perhaps spending time bonding with her bandmates would help soothe her mood.

    Liza blushed and her violet eyes widened. "Uhm... I have... free time. Yes... Uhmm... Duet sounds... nice. Together."

    So cute!

    "Alright! Let''s jam!" Aubrey rose from the couch and grabbed Liza''s hand before leading her upstairs.

    <hr>

    Cedric watched them depart and padded over to Thaddeus'' workbench. The Unhallowed automaton continued his tinkering, his metal fingers delicately manipulating the Luminal Projector''s inner workings.

    "Progress?" Cedric rumbled.

    Thaddeus paused his task and examined the device. Several components had been removed and arranged neatly on the table.

    "Verily. Alignment and tuning achieved. Further adjustments required. Yet ''twill prove a manageable challenge," Thaddeus appraised, returning to his adjustments.

    Cedric rumbled an acknowledgment and padded to the center of the chamber.

    "What do you think of Aubrey," he asked.

    Thaddeus paused and swiveled his head to meet Cedric''s gaze. The Unhallowed automaton contemplated a moment before responding.

    "Aubrey is... an intriguing individual," Thaddeus articulated. "Her demeanor and colloquialism are vastly dissimilar from any other persons previously encountered. Though her disposition displays considerable impulsivity and obstinance, her intent and motives appear sincere. Verily, a most unusual yet fascinating phenomenon. Would agree?"

    "She does strike me as someone born outside Mordenstradt, perhaps even outside this country. She possesses a... foreign perspective. And attitude."

    "Indeed." Thaddeus resumed his adjustments. "Such is evident in the content and lyrics of her compositions. Numerous references and metaphors unfamiliar to the local vernacular. Though puzzling and unconventional, their meanings nonetheless convey a coherent and poignant message. Quite remarkable. Indeed."

    Cedric nodded his understanding. His ears picked up the faint echo of Aubrey''s melodic voice resonating from above. Good. Perhaps practice would alleviate her stress and anger. She deserved some respite.

    Cedric settled near the workbench and contemplated his role within their unusual arrangement. Originally a protector of the cathedral, he had since sworn to be Aubrey''s retainer and member of the Unhallowed Harmony.

    Yet despite his oath and Aubrey''s acceptance into the cathedral, a lingering question loomed in his mind: what was her connection to the Sovereign Incantatrix?

    Only those chosen by the faith could hold Hellion''s Cry. And yet, the divine instrument chose her willingly. Why?

    Cedric mused on the possibilities. Perhaps a visit to the cathedral''s library would shed light on his concerns.

    Resolved on his course of action, Cedric excused himself and departed the chamber, leaving Thaddeus to his tinkering.

    Upstairs, Aubrey and Liza''s melodies joined and harmonized, a medley of violin and vocals. Their voices flowed through the cathedral and drifted through the cavernous passageways and hallways.

    Perhaps Cedric would join later. Songs proved therapeutic and comforting. Perhaps their melody would ease Aubrey''s ire.

 Chapter 21: Errands and Tonics

    Aubrey reclined in the moth-eaten velvet chair. Her muscles and vocal folds ached slightly after hours of intensive practice and bonding time with Liza. Overall, it was a productive session. Aubrey learned Liza''s tragic story¡ªabandonment, betrayal, and eventual transformation.

    Liza''s experiences and tragedies weren''t dissimilar from her own, albeit Aubrey''s wasn''t as traumatic. Still, talking with the violinist eased her anger and lifted her spirits.

    Now they bonded through song and friendship. Similar to a sisterhood. Aubrey hadn''t had siblings growing up. Maybe Liza could fill that gap.

    Aubrey yawned and stretched her limbs. Sleep tugged at her weary consciousness.

    Across from her, Liza''s gentle breathing had transitioned to steady, rhythmic wheezes. Aubrey smiled and draped a blanket over Liza''s petite form. Poor girl expended a lot of effort during their jam session and hadn''t quite recovered her stamina.

    "Night." Aubrey patted Liza''s head.

    "N... Night..." Liza mumbled and stirred, adjusting her position before slipping deeper into slumber.

    Aubrey gathered her belongings and padded downstairs. The cathedral''s passages had grown silent. Only the occasional skittering of rats disrupted the stillness.

    Must be late. Aubrey stifled a yawn.

    She returned to the underground workshop, expecting Thaddeus hunched over his workbench.

    Instead, the Unhallowed automaton had powered down and reclined on the threadbare couch. His arms and legs were tucked against his sides, his chassis adopting a curled posture.

    Looks like Thaddy went into sleep mode. Aubrey approached and gazed upon the Unhallowed automaton''s sleeping form. Guess we''ll talk more tomorrow.

    Aubrey stifled another yawn and headed back upstairs. Fatigue crept upon her consciousness and her body grew sluggish.

    Returning to the transept hall, Aubrey spotted Cedric''s silhouette perched atop a balcony overlooking the choir''s alcove. Moonlight streamed through the stained glass windows and cast intricate patterns along his stone skin.

    Aubrey waved. Cedric acknowledged her return and dipped his horned head before returning his vigil.

    Guess I''m not the only night owl. Aubrey ascended the spiral staircase to the attic where her chamber awaited.

    Within the dusty and dimly lit space, Aubrey''s bed¡ªa worn mattress layered with blankets and sheets¡ªstood nestled in the corner. Candles and electric lamps provided illumination and warmth. Aubrey stripped her outfit and lounged in her undergarments before blowing out the candles.

    Comfortable, she climbed under the blankets and settled into the musty-yet-cozy fabrics.

    Ahh. Heaven.

    Dreamless nights greeted Aubrey since her resurrection. At first, nightmares haunted her sleep. Now, she had nothing but the quiet embrace of oblivion.

    Comforting. Peaceful. Quiet.

    Before sleep claimed her, Aubrey reflected on her day and the discoveries made.

    Julian Blackwell controlled her career. Used her voice and fame. Planned her assassination. All for their goals. Whatever they entailed.

    Well. Fuck them. Aubrey resolved to unmask the conspiracy and cut the threads that bound her past life in this world.

    Blackwell would pay. And she would deliver her vengeance. By her hands. And no one else''s.

    <hr>

    Soft morning sunlight streamed through the attic window. Aubrey stirred and yawned. Another peaceful sleep. She stretched her limbs and luxuriated in the musty fabrics.

    Despite the cathedral''s dilapidated state, she appreciated the comforts afforded her. Clean water, access to a toilet, a roof over her head, and comfortable accommodations. Better than scavenging and dumpster diving.

    Or sleeping outdoors.

    Aubrey indulged a few more moments within her blankets before reluctantly extricating herself. Reluctantly. Damn comfy.

    She yawned and ambled to her dresser. Within the drawers were an assortment of outfits salvaged from the cathedral''s storage as well as the garments procured using her share of the band''s profits. Aubrey selected a casual ensemble¡ªtight black trousers paired with an ivory button shirt, its lace frills accentuating her bust. Comfortable and stylish. Perfect.

    Aubrey dressed and descended to the transept hall, her footsteps echoing through the shadowy corridor. Morning light streamed through the stained glass windows and colored the murky darkness with a kaleidoscopic glow.

    Cedric sat near the altar. Aubrey approached and greeted the gargoyle.

    "Morning."

    "Good morning," Cedric rumbled. Aubrey noted the paperbacks strewn across his stone lap.

    "Find a new book to read?"

    "Yes," the gargoyle confirmed. "Liza recommended several titles. Interesting tales. Enjoying them."

    "Cool." Aubrey surveyed the chamber.

    "Where''s Thaddy?"

    "Working. On the Luminal Projector." Cedric inclined his chin toward the stairway to the basement.

    "Hmm, guess it''ll take a while." She''d have to check on his progress later. "Oh, do you remember when our next gig is scheduled? Can''t recall the dates."

    Cedric pondered her inquiry and scratched his horned head.

    "Week from now. At the Shadowed Nook," the gargoyle recalled. "Wednesday. Early evening."

    "Gotcha. Thanks."

    Their band''s next performance. Aubrey hadn''t missed a gig yet. She enjoyed their shows. Singing, the crowd, the atmosphere. Performing brought her joy and excitement. It also served to sate her hunger.

    Aubrey craved the audience''s emotions. Specifically, the positive ones. Anger, sadness, or fear nourished her well enough, but the elation from the crowd as they listened and cheered to their performance fed her the most. Their happiness. Their enjoyment. Aubrey''s spectral stomach grumbled. Thinking of the upcoming show and the energy she''d feast upon reignited her appetite.

    Not to mention the coins and tips they''d earn.

    "Where''s Liza?" Aubrey scanned the cathedral. No sign of her violinist.

    "Down in the basement as well," Cedric reported. "You know she doesn''t like being active during the day."

    "Right. Sunlight thing and all."

    Liza''s curse had transformed her into a half-shadow entity. Daylight negatively affected her constitution. Made her weaker. Lesser. Aubrey empathized with her struggles. They both underwent transformative changes due to their murders. Liza had accepted her fate, embracing her shadows and utilizing her new form as an asset.

    Aubrey hadn''t mastered her abilities yet. But she would.

    "I''m heading out," Aubrey informed Cedric. "Need to explore the city and pick up some stuff."

    "Don''t forget the Dreamleaf this time." Cedric leveled his gaze at her.

    Aubrey snickered. "Relax. Won''t forget."

    Could gargoyles even get high?

    <hr>

    Aubrey exited the cathedral and inhaled a lungful of the crisp morning air. She savored the tangy and smoky aroma carried by the breeze. Mordenstradt''s blend of mechanical pollution and eldritch emissions never ceased to intrigue her. Industrial yet arcane. Progressive yet archaic.

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    The perfect blend.

    She secured Hellion''s Cry over her shoulder and sauntered through the winding side streets of Gallows Row. Today''s schedule: shopping, exploring, and maybe a little eavesdropping.

    Aubrey had planned to hunt for leads.

    So far, she had only traversed the Gallows Row and Ironworks districts. She hadn''t explored the others. From what Aubrey had gleamed thus far, Mordenstradt consisted of eleven districts: The Ironworks, Gallows Row, The Hollows, Velvet Strand, Voxhall Ward, The Verdant Expanse, Wharfside, Thornhaven, Ravenloft Heights, Gildenfaire, and the Highborne Quarters.

    Each district differed in scope and culture. Gallows Row, Aubrey''s starting district, housed the city''s destitute. Ironworks contained the industrial sector where Mordenstradt''s mechanization flourished.

    She had ventured into the Voxhall Ward briefly to purchase her clothes. Just one street alone had enough shops and boutiques to keep her interest all day.

    Others she hadn''t visited. Aubrey didn''t know much beyond their names. Yet.

    She also hadn''t explored the outskirts and rural areas surrounding the metropolis either. Supposed Mordenstradt was surrounded by farmlands and plantations harvesting crops, timber, and metals vital to the city''s function.

    Interesting. But not her focus today.

    Aubrey sauntered along the cracked and pothole-ridden sidewalk and passed the derelict homes and shops. Most exhibited signs of abandonment and neglect: boarded windows and doors, weather-beaten paint, and shattered panes. Others displayed evidence of a more sinister origin: scorch marks, broken beams, and crumbled walls.

    Even the newer constructions exhibited damage and decay. She spotted one structure with its roof and upper floors caved in. Likely an unstable foundation.

    Overall, Gallows Row didn''t portray the prosperity Mordenstradt''s tourism pamphlets advertised. But it suited her just fine. It allowed her to roam around without garnering undue attention. There was an unlikely chance of encountering anyone who recognized her¡ªassuming posters of her former self had proliferated throughout the city.

    Instead, the only recognition she sometimes received was the occasional fan who had seen the Unhallowed Harmony perform. Those interactions had proven a mixed bag:

    "Your songs helped me through a dark time. Thank you."

    "You''re a damn goddess."

    "Please sing for me."

    "Feed me with your music."

    Okay... Aubrey hadn''t expected the last request. Was the fan... not human? Hard to tell. But their enthusiasm had left her a bit creeped out. Regardless, the encounters had earned Aubrey a handful of pence. Always a win.

    She navigated along the tangled maze of streets and alleyways. A left here. A right there. Straight ahead. After a while, her familiarity with the layout and shortcuts allowed her to navigate the district with relative ease. Soon, she arrived at her destination: an apothecary specializing in herbs, potions, and remedies.

    Aubrey crossed the uneven sidewalk and pushed the dilapidated wooden door open. A bell jingled overhead. Inside the establishment, shelves lined with various bottles and jars, and an array of dried herbs and flowers greeted her. Aubrey inhaled a whiff of the shop''s interior and savored the herbal fragrance.

    The apothecary smelled earthy and fresh. Kinda reminded her of a traditional herb and remedy shop. Except for the bottles labeled Nightmare Extract, Brainrot Draught, and Witherbloom Elixir. Definitely not organic supplements.

    "Be with ye in a minute," A gravelly feminine voice called from the backroom.

    Aubrey browsed the selection and identified the Dreamleaf: a dried blue-green herb whose texture resembled finely ground tea leaves. Its fragrance smelled minty and sweet. Aubrey plucked the jar containing the dried herb and observed the product. Looked and smelled authentic.

    "Sorry fer the wait," the female proprietor, an old woman, emerged from the back room and greeted her with a raspy voice. "Ahh. Customer. How may I help ye lassy?"

    "Just here to purchase a jar of Dreamleaf," Aubrey held the jar up for the proprietor.

    "Aye. Good choice. Dreamleaf''ll put ye in a daze and yer dreams''ll be sweeter and richer. ''Twill cost ye twelve pennies. Best deal ''round these parts."

    Twelve pennies? Aubrey frowned. Seemed a bit pricey. But beggars can''t be choosers. And the quality appeared decent.

    "Fine. Here," Aubrey counted and deposited the copper coins on the counter.

    "Excellent." The proprietor swept the pennies into a drawer. "Ye need anything else, lassy?"

    Hmm. Aubrey hadn''t considered browsing. Curiosity compelled her.

    "Do you have anything potent? Stronger than Dreamleaf?" Aubrey inquired.

    "Aye. Depends. Will ye be the one consuming the herbs?" the proprietor eyed her with a scrutinizing gaze. "There''s only a rare few that could affect an Unhallowed like yerself."

    Aubrey''s eyes slowly widened, and she almost dropped the jar she''d been holding.

    How. The. Fuck?

    Aubrey composed herself and played dumb. "W... What do you mean Unhallowed?"

    The proprietor cocked an eyebrow, then slowly raised her scrawny arm. Her bracelet, comprising a colorful array of beads and charms, rattled and shifted.

    "Yer no ordinary customer. See. Got meself a charm to detect Unhallowed. Normally. Ye''d feel a sense o'' unease." The proprietor tapped the bracelet. "Dispelled that effect."

    Holy shit. Aubrey hadn''t realized such a charm existed. And she hadn''t encountered it till now. Wonder how commonplace those charms are? And why hadn''t her bandmates warned her?

    "I uh... I..."

    "Easy lassy," the proprietor raised a boney hand. "I ain''t gonna turn ye in. Got nothin'' to gain and plenty to lose."

    Aubrey narrowed her eyes. Suspicion warred with curiosity within her. She leaned over the counter and glared into the proprietor''s eyes.

    "Glad to hear. But why aren''t you scared of me? Everyone else I''ve met who has seen an Unhallowed either run for the hills or try to fight for their dear life. Why not you?"

    The proprietor''s gaze didn''t waver. Instead, she matched Aubrey''s stare.

    "First. Yer buying Dreamleaf, not terrorizing me shop. Second. Ye don''t look intimidating. Third. The truly dangerous ones only come out at night. If ye know... ye know."

    Point. Aubrey relaxed and retreated behind the counter.

    "Alright. Guess I''ll take your word on that." Aubrey returned her attention to the Dreamleaf jar.

    "Anyway. Anything stronger than Dreamleaf you could recommend?"

    The proprietor''s mouth curled upward. Probably a grin. Looks... unsettling.

    "Ye looking for a euphoric high? Pleasurable experience? Or a more... spiritual journey?" The proprietor emphasized her question with a dramatic pause.

    Aubrey rolled her eyes. The theatrics could use a bit of work.

    Hmm. Euphoric. Pleasurable. Spiritual... Aubrey pondered which option she desired. Euphoria sounded fun. But she had experienced it before via recreational drugs in her previous world. Spiritual sounded... interesting. But probably boring.

    Pleasure though... That sounded like a satisfying time. When was the last time she engaged in carnal delights? Aubrey''s libido certainly thirsted for... a good fuck. Hadn''t had any since waking up in this world.

    Hmm. Decisions. Decisions. She drummed her fingers against the countertop.

    "I want a pleasurable high. One that''s memorable."

    The proprietor''s toothless grin widened. Creepy. Aubrey suppressed a shudder.

    "Excellent choice lassy. Ye came to the right place." She turned and scoured her shelves before producing a small ornately crafted box. Aubrey''s gaze caught the embossed label engraved onto the polished hardwood surface:

    Xeno''s Kiss

    "This will provide the pleasure ye seek. Guaranteed," the proprietor proclaimed. Aubrey didn''t miss the mischievous twinkle in her sunken eye.

    "What''s Xeno''s Kiss?" Aubrey eyed the container skeptically.

    "Xeno''s Kiss is a special extract derived from the Blazelily. A rare flower indigenous ta the southern valleys. Dangerous place. Teeming with mana beasts and monsters. Them Blazelilies emit a potent aphrodisiac." The proprietor licked her chapped lips and leaned closer.

    "When a beast or monster consumes the pollen ta mate, the extract takes hold and creates a... euphoric experience unlike anythin'' else. Consuming the pollen alone provides a... pleasant sensation. But ''tis the nectar contained within the blossom that yields the true essence."

    Wow. Sounds... Aubrey didn''t have a proper adjective to describe the extract. Crazy? Intense? Addictive?

    "Blazelilies possess sharp petals. Ye gotta have a certain skill or ability ta reach the nectar. Otherwise..."

    The proprietor extended her other frail arm and displayed her gnarled hand. Scars and old wounds riddled her digits. Several fingers bent at awkward angles.

    "Luckily. Me assistants'' got the knack and the skills ta gather the nectar." The proprietor opened the lid and presented the contents within.

    Within the ornate box lay a small transparent bottle encased in a silver metal alloy. Aubrey spied the glowing liquid contained within. Bright pink and viscous, the extract resembled a sparkling fluid trapped between the boundary of gel and syrup.

    Pretty. Aubrey extended her hand. The proprietor pulled the container away.

    "Careful," she cautioned. "One drop will provide the effects ye desire. Consume more. And..."

    "And what? Death? Insanity? Eternal orgasms?" Aubrey listed off the possibilities.

    The proprietor cackled and slapped the counter. Aubrey resisted the impulse to scowl.

    "Not sure. It''s not often I get Unhallowed customers trying these. Ye folks are... resistant ta mortal toxins and curses. Normally, a human would have their sanity ripped ta shreds or die from being overstimulated. Could go either way fer the Unhallowed. Heck. Ye might end up enjoying the ride forever."

    Forever. Aubrey mused over the description. Immortality through sexual bliss. That didn''t sound half bad. Except Aubrey had her vengeance to exact.

    "Alright. You sold me," Aubrey withdrew her coin pouch. "How much?"

    The proprietor closed the box and placed it on the counter. "Four sovereigns."

    "WHAT?!" Aubrey couldn''t stop her outburst.

    "Shhh," the proprietor placed a boney finger against her chapped lips. Aubrey ignored the flakes and stains marring the digit. Gross.

    "These are well worth the price lassy. And limited. Xeno''s Kiss is difficult and expensive ta harvest."

    "Ugh. Fine." Aubrey deposited the four shiny golden coins onto the counter. "Here."

    There went the rest of her earnings from the underground fight club. Shit.

    The proprietor swept the currency into her drawer and placed the ornate box into a decorated paper bag. Aubrey accepted the package and shoved it into her backpack.

    "Pleasure doing business with ye. If ye have other Unhallowed friends who are as cordial as ye, send them over. Otherwise, come again if ye have any needs." The proprietor winked.

    Aubrey suppressed an involuntary gag. "Sure. Later."

    "Remember. Use carefully."

    "Yeah. Yeah." Aubrey exited the establishment and muttered under her breath.

    Pricey but worth it. Hope the effects live up to the hype. Otherwise, she''ll dump the whole thing inside that crone''s mouth and watch her choke on her profit.

    Well, that was one errand done. Next on her list: shopping and a little eavesdropping.

 Chapter 22: Inspiring Dissent

    Aubrey strolled the crowded streets and maneuvered her way through the throng of pedestrians. People walked and chattered about their daily happenings. She filtered the background noise and honed her senses to listen for useful intel.

    So far, none caught her interest.

    "...don''t understand fashion anymore. Where''s the style gone..."

    "...so then the manager tells me he''s not paying extra for hazard compensation. What the hell did he expect..."

    "...these meat buns are so tender and juicy..."

    Nothing worthwhile.

    Aubrey traversed the Ironworks district and found herself along one of the main thoroughfares. Streams of patrons and workers flowed in and out of their establishments. She lingered along the sidewalk and scanned the surroundings.

    A familiar face stood out from the crowd.

    Thomas¡ªthe man who had recognized her face at the Dead Poet''s Pub¡ªexited an establishment.

    Aubrey blended amongst the throng and tailed him.

    He moved eastward along the main road. Aubrey stalked and maintained a reasonable distance from her mark. Thomas didn''t exhibit any obvious behavior that would indicate detection.

    Good.

    Several blocks later, when the congestion lessened, Aubrey jogged forward and drew alongside Thomas, wrapping her arm around his.

    "Hi, Thomas!" Aubrey greeted the startled man with her signature smile. "Haven''t seen you in a while."

    "Lady Au¡ª"

    "Shhhh," Aubrey placed a finger against his lip. "I''m Nightingale, remember? Aubrey''s long-lost sibling?"

    "Y... Yes," Thomas composed himself and nodded. Aubrey noted the slight quiver in his body.

    Probably nervous. Aubrey tightened her grip along his arm.

    "Wonderful," Aubrey purred and guided him along the sidewalk. "Mind accompanying me shopping? I''ve been cooped up indoors the last few days. Need some fresh air."

    "O... Okay."

    Thomas complied and surrendered to Aubrey''s manipulation.

    They wandered through the Voxhall Ward and entered multiple stores. Aubrey perused and purchased a variety of goods. Thomas dutifully carried the packages and assisted her with whatever tasks Aubrey had assigned.

    Along the way, Aubrey had struck up conversations. Thomas revealed tidbits of information regarding his personal history. Mostly mundane minutiae: hobbies, preferences, and interests. Aubrey indulged his ramblings. Information can take many forms. Even mundane topics can provide clues.

    "So, how''s your work been at the factory?" Aubrey inquired while browsing accessories.

    "It''s... the same," Thomas sighed. Aubrey detected a twinge of frustration. Excellent.

    "Oh? Something wrong?" Aubrey prodded.

    "My supervisor keeps assigning me the worst duties. Cleaning the factory floor, organizing the warehouse, sweeping the lobby. Meanwhile, he gets to stay inside his office and order everyone around."

    "That''s rough. Do you complain?" Aubrey selected and examined a bracelet. Seems tacky. Not her style.

    "No." Thomas'' answer didn''t surprise her.

    "Why not?"

    Thomas hesitated. "Because... Then he''d assign worse duties. Sometimes the other lads complain and disappear the next day."

    "That''s terrible." Aubrey discarded the bracelet. Ugly. "Sounds like he abuses his authority."

    "Yeah."

    "Have you thought of quitting?" Aubrey shifted her attention towards the rings. Hmm. None appealed to her.

    "I... tried. Didn''t work out. The factory pays the highest wages compared to the other factories. Besides," Thomas heaved a despondent sigh. "Where would I go anyway? I can''t go back home. My family disowned me."

    Poor guy. Aubrey didn''t pity him. Her circumstances surpassed Thomas'' by several degrees. But his situation sounded shitty.

    "Really? Why?"

    "Father caught me... engaging... with another man," Thomas confessed. Aubrey didn''t miss his lowered gaze. Probably shame.

    Interesting. So, Thomas swings that way. Aubrey didn''t discriminate nor judge. More opportunities.

    "How did your father react?" Aubrey changed tactics and sampled the perfume samples. Bleh. Smells awful.

    "Horribly. Beat me senseless. Threw me out the next day. Haven''t contacted him since."

    "Any luck meeting other men?"

    Thomas shook his head. Aubrey caught the melancholic expression. Oh. Poor baby.

    "Nope. None. Nobody wants to be with the likes of me. Who''d want to court a disgraced factory worker anyway?"

    "Aw. Cheer up." Aubrey rubbed his cheek with her hand. "You''re a handsome fellow. I''m sure someone will. Plenty of fish in the sea, as the saying goes."

    Thomas'' cheeks reddened. Aubrey resisted a devilish grin. Hook, line, and sinker.

    "Thank... thank you."

    "You''re welcome. Here," Aubrey deposited an additional coin purse into his hand. "For helping me carry my purchases. Buy yourself something nice."

    Thomas weighed the purse and his eyes bulged.

    "Lady Nightingale. This... this is too generous," Thomas attempted to return the gift. Aubrey didn''t accept.

    "Think nothing of it," Aubrey nudged the coin purse back. "You''ve helped me out. Consider it a token of appreciation. Besides. Money''s not an issue for me."

    It actually was. Fuuuuck.

    Thomas accepted and stored the coin purse in his pocket. Aubrey didn''t miss his excited grin. Adorable. Easy mark.

    "Oh! Before I forget. If you haven''t heard yet, my band''s going to perform at the Shadowed Nook this week. I''ve got a couple of songs prepared especially for the overworked and underappreciated workings like you."

    Aubrey punctuated her sales pitch with an exaggerated wink.

    "I... I''ve heard." Thomas averted his gaze. Aubrey didn''t miss his flushed cheeks. Cute.

    "Great!" Aubrey leaned in close and whispered into his ear. "Spread the word to your colleagues. And if you have friends working at any of the Blackwell factories, be sure to tell them too. Tell them they can vent their frustrations and enjoy the show. Understand?"

    Thomas gulped. "U... Understood. Lady Nightingale."

    "Fantastic. See you at the show!" Aubrey released him and bid farewell. Thomas departed after delivering a clumsy bow.

    As his silhouette disappeared within the crowds, Aubrey smirked and reviewed her haul. A variety of clothing, cosmetics, and miscellaneous items. Worth the expenditure.

    More importantly, Aubrey had planted seeds. Factory workers who suffered exploitation and abuse would appreciate a venue where they could vent their frustrations. Her songs and performances could offer solace and a potential outlet.

    She intended to exploit their discontent and capitalize on the opportunity. Plus, Thomas would serve as her messenger and spread the word.

    No need to use some fancy brainwashing contraption to manipulate the masses. Her music alone would suffice.

    If they resonated with the message of her songs strongly enough, who knows? Perhaps her words would ignite the spark of revolution.

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    Let Julian Blackwell and other tycoons contend with a workforce fueled by discontent.

    Aubrey giggled and envisioned the pandemonium.

    Revolution sounds awesome. Let''s make that happen.

    <hr>

    "Behold," Thaddeus announced, his modulated voice echoed within the chamber. Aubrey''s bandmates gathered around the Unhallowed automaton and congregated near the Luminal Projector.

    "I have endeavored to restore yon device to its full capacity," he continued, "albeit with certain... modifications, to ensure no malevolence remains within its workings."

    Aubrey leaned forward, her crimson gaze focused on the device''s lens. "So, it''s safe now? We won''t get brainwashed or have our minds possessed?"

    Thaddeus pivoted his body towards her. "Certitude. ''Tis devoid of malintent and malignancy. The nefarious components have been excised. What remains is purely for our edification and, perchance, entertainment."

    He flicked a switch, and the device hummed to life, emitting a soft, pulsating light. Aubrey detected a slight vibration emanating from its chassis. Thaddeus rotated a dial and adjusted the device''s positioning.

    "Watch the screen yon wall," the automaton commanded. Aubrey redirected her attention and observed the flickering image materialize on the smooth stone surface.

    An image resembling an auditorium emerged, complete with a stage and rows of seats occupied by an audience. Aubrey''s keen ears picked up the faint murmurs and chattering amongst the patrons. Thaddeus manipulated the Luminal Projector and zoomed in. Details became more pronounced.

    "Ooh." Aubrey''s eyes widened. "That''s cool. Didn''t realize this thing had optical zoom. Pretty neat."

    "''Twould prove a necessary modification. Optimal viewing would require an unobscured view, although improvised alterations suffice."

    Aubrey ignored the technical jargon and spectated the performance. An orchestral group occupied the stage. A variety of instruments¡ªstrings, woodwind, and brass¡ªcomprised their ranks. Their conductor stood poised before the ensemble, baton in hand.

    "Hmm. Orchestra," Aubrey speculated. The Luminal Projector''s visual and audio capabilities impressed her. It wasn''t on the level of a cinema or television, but Aubrey appreciated its vintage projection. Reminded her of an early movie theater.

    "As thou canst observe," Thaddy continued, his brass fingers gesturing towards the projections, "the core function of projecting imagery and sound remains intact. I have altered the arcane circuitry to negate the original purpose of swaying public opinion or instilling specific emotions in viewers."

    "Cool." Aubrey bobbed her head. "Wait... hang on. Can it record stuff too?"

    Thaddeus cocked his brass head. "Nay. Recording capability does not comprise the Luminal Projector''s base construction. Another device is required to accomplish said functionality. Henceforth, acquiring a recording device would prove an optimal addition."

    Damn. Too bad. Aubrey had envisioned recording their band''s performances. Sell the recordings as souvenirs. Or even distribute their recorded music. Make a little coin on the side. Profit.

    "Ahh." Aubrey sulked and slumped into the moth-eaten velvet couch.

    Thaddeus tilted his brass head quizzically. "Art something amiss Aubrey? Thy displeased demeanor conveys disappointment. Explain and elaborate."

    "It''s nothing," Aubrey sighed. "Just wanted to record our shows and sell them. Turn a little coin on the side."

    "Ahh. Recording aural vibrations and visual movement would indeed prove advantageous for monetary gain. Alas, the Luminal Projector lacks recording functionality."

    "Yeah. I know. Disappointing."

    Cedric approached the wall and regarded the projection. Aubrey watched his granite frame shift and pivot as he followed the orchestra''s performance.

    "They lack intensity. Energy. Their performance sounds hollow," Cedric critiqued. Aubrey detected an edge to his gravelly tone.

    "Indeed," Thaddeus concurred. "Contrasted to our performance, the composition fails to stir mine artificial heart. Audible resonance would prove preferable, albeit insufficient to enrapture the entirety of one''s psyche. Sound is crucial. Alas, mere instruments, though skilled, are not sufficient. Without a captivating aura or an intriguing storyline, the performance falls flat."

    Aubrey nodded. Thaddeus and Cedric articulated her thoughts.

    Music conveyed emotion and a message. Not necessarily the lyrics. Sometimes, the melody alone portrayed the artist''s intent. Whether an inspiring, joyful, or somber tune, the performer''s vibe and passion determined the listener''s emotional output.

    The orchestra''s performance in the projection lacked fervor. Professional. Skilled. Technically flawless.

    But passionless. Devoid of spark and inspiration. Their performance would entertain an audience. Fulfill their obligations.

    Boring.

    Mozart or Beethoven would cry in their graves if they''d witnessed. Aubrey sympathized. Music deserved better. Deserved performers willing to give it their all and bare their soul.

    She''d gladly provide. Would her fans appreciate her offerings though?

    "Whatever," Aubrey dismissed the projection and shrugged. "Anyways. Tomorrow''s our performance. Ready for it?"

    Her bandmates nodded. Aubrey grinned.

    "Awesome. Let''s get practicing!"

    <hr>

    The venue outside "The Shadowed Nook" tavern brimmed with patrons eager to witness Unhallowed Harmony''s performance. Aubrey spied their excited chatter and their animated expressions as they conversed amongst themselves.

    Nice. They drew a bigger crowd tonight. Probably about... three hundred or so attendees. More than their previous performances. Word spread. Most of them looked like regulars, judging by their familiar faces, but Aubrey noticed the influx of newcomers¡ªall locals from Gallows Row or workers from the factories.

    She spotted Thomas. Aubrey waved and flashed her pearly smile. Thomas enthusiastically acknowledged her.

    Good. Spreading the word.

    Aubrey and her band huddled and prepared in the backroom. Each tuned their respective instruments: Aubrey checked and tuned her guitar. Liza tightened the bowstring and inspected the tautness of her violin''s strings. Thaddeus adjusted the tuners and calibrated his modified bass guitar. Cedric tested the tension and tightness of his drum set.

    Each performed their pre-performance rituals and ensured their instrument''s peak condition.

    Aubrey utilized a modified warm-up regimen¡ªvocal fry and lip trills instead of scales and humming.

    Soon the appointed time arrived. Since the tavern wasn''t big enough to accommodate their band and audience comfortably, the proprietor had arranged a performance outside.

    Unhallowed Harmony exited the tavern and took their position at the makeshift stage constructed specifically for their shows. Aubrey surveyed the area.

    A cluster of lanterns suspended from a metal frame provided illumination. The arrangement cast the stage and surrounding area in a soft yellow glow. A warm ambiance. The audience packed the tavern''s outdoor seating and spilled into the side alleys. Some even perched upon rooftops or perched upon crates and barrels.

    Unhallowed Harmony launched into their setlist.

    Aubrey belted out the vocals and strummed her guitar. Thaddeus accompanied with a steady bassline. Cedric''s percussion supported the beat. Liza''s violin filled the performance with melodies and harmonies. Together they conjured a sonorous spell that enraptured their audience.

    The theme for tonight''s set centered around empowerment. Inspiration. Resilience. Aubrey incorporated lyrics that championed the exploited. Those downtrodden and burdened by the weight of an oppressive society. Songs that rallied and encouraged listeners to rise against adversity.

    Aubrey sang her truths. Extolled the masses to embrace their anger and frustrations, and channel them into a call to action. Into a demand for change.

    Their crowd''s reaction reflected the theme.

    Aubrey reveled in the feedback¡ªpositive emotions radiating from the crowd. Euphoric. Invigorating. Powerful. So potent her spectral stomach gorged itself.

    Feed. Feed. FEED.

    Aubrey''s instincts drove her, demanding she sang louder and played her guitar with greater intensity. Demanded she captivated her audience with her song and drew forth greater volumes of emotion.

    FEED.

    Her voice boomed. Her fingers flew. Hellion''s Cry''s strings thrummed. Aubrey channeled her inner rockstar persona and delivered a performance worthy of her former fame.

    The hunger dissipated. The initial frenzy ebbed. A new emotion arose within her¡ªa sense of achievement.

    A sense of contentment and fulfillment replaced the ecstatic euphoria. She smiled and immersed herself in the moment, singing for a crowd¡ªbelting out soul-rending tunes¡ªand earning their appreciation never ceased to thrill her. This new life had become hers. Become theirs.

    They rocked the venue.

    Their first encore proved a roaring success. Aubrey relished the applause and gave her bandmates fist bumps before launching into their second setlist. They played and performed several more songs. Each number provoked thunderous applause and rapturous cheering from their audience.

    Eventually, their performance concluded. Aubrey thanked the crowd and accepted their praise. Thaddeus collected their donations¡ªpence, farthings, and a few shillings piled within a metal tin.

    "Fantastic show!" the tavern''s proprietor commended. "Biggest crowd we ever had!"

    Aubrey acknowledged the compliment. "Thanks."

    "No. Thank ye lass," the proprietor offered a grateful smile. Aubrey noticed a gold canine and wondered whether it was a prosthetic or natural. "Ye did wonders fer business. Biggest night we ever had. Drinks and ale''ve flown out the taps! Yer welcome to perform whenever ye please."

    "Appreciate it." Aubrey accepted the generous offer.

    Nice. More venues meant more coin. Win-win.

    The tavern proprietor departed and tended to his rowdiest customers.

    "Excellent performance Aubrey," Thaddeus joined her and commended. "''Twas a resplendent showing. Well executed and impeccably delivered."

    "Thanks, Thaddy," Aubrey smiled and regarded her bandmates.

    Cedric and Liza discussed something. Whatever topic seemed riveting. Both exchanged their opinions, and neither party backed down.

    Aubrey sauntered towards the pair. "Hey, Ceddy. Liza. What''re you two talking about?"

    Cedric grunted and responded. "We were debating on whether a drum solo or a violin solo would sound better for our next show."

    "Violin solo," Liza declared. Cedric scowled.

    "Drum solo," Cedric countered.

    "Violin solo," Liza repeated.

    "Drum Solo."

    Aubrey intervened before the debate escalated. "Okay. Relax. Relax. No need to argue. We can have one song with a drum solo and another song with a violin solo. Fair?"

    Both Cedric and Liza regarded Aubrey. "Agreed."

    Whew. Crisis averted. Aubrey exhaled and relaxed her shoulders.

    "Good. Glad we settled that," Aubrey glanced at the tavern. "Anyway. Let''s finish packing up and get out of here before we attract any undue attention."

    Thaddeus joined the trio and voiced his agreement. "Sound judgment Aubrey. ''Twould prove imprudent lingering post-performance. Our notoriety may incite unfavorable encounters."

    "Yep. Let''s pack up."

    As they departed from the stage and headed into the alleyways, the System notifications pinged in her head.

    [You''ve acquired a moderate amount of experience]

    [Your rank has increased from Andante to Moderato]

    [You have 2 unused Talent Points]

    [You have 2 unused Ability Points]

    [You can increase two of your attributes by one grade]

    Aubrey concealed her triumphant grin.

    Fuck yeah!

    Her suspicions proved correct. The System also rewarded her for performing onstage and entertaining her fans. The experience awarded for live performances exceeded playing music at the abandoned cathedral.

    Two talent and ability points. One attribute grade-up for each. Fantastic progress. She had to do more singing.

 Chapter 23: Preparations to Strike Back

    Over the next few weeks, Aubrey¡ªusing the Facsimile Mask to pose as a young woman named Lark¡ªvisited various establishments in the Ironworks, eavesdropping on conversations, seeking out any hints or clues regarding Blackwell''s business and any potential weaknesses that she could exploit.

    She also befriended some of the factory workers and inquired about their working conditions and grievances. She learned that most of them worked long hours for very little pay, with most of the profits lining Blackwell''s pockets.

    One afternoon, she stumbled upon a group of workers gathered in a nearby alleyway, discussing their dissatisfaction with Blackwell and his treatment of them.

    "I can''t believe he expects us to work for nothing!" one worker exclaimed. "He pays us only fifteen shillings for a long week''s work. I can barely afford to feed my family!"

    "I hear he''s planning to cut our wages next month," another chimed in. "Can''t wait to see what happens when the union hears about this."

    Another scoffed. "The union''s useless. They haven''t done anything for us in months."

    "Maybe Lark could do something about it," a fourth worker suggested. "She seems like the type that would stick it to those rich bastards."

    At the mention of her name (or pseudonym), Aubrey decided to interject herself into the conversation. She''d been practicing her dialect and slang to keep in line with the factory worker persona.

    "Well now, it seems to me that someone''s gotta teach ol'' Mister Blackwell a lesson about treating his workers right," she declared, putting on her best cockney accent as she stepped into the circle of disgruntled workers.

    "Lark!" the workers exclaimed. "Just the person we wanted to see!"

    Aubrey folded her arms across her chest. "Well then, what''s the matter, boys?"

    "Blackwell''s gonna cut our wages next month," one of the workers informed her. "Can''t believe the bloody bastard thinks he can do that to us!"

    "So what if he does?" Aubrey challenged. "What''s stopping us from taking matters into our own hands?"

    A murmur of confusion rippled through the crowd. "What do you mean?" one of them asked.

    "I mean," Aubrey replied, leaning in conspiratorially, "if the union is that incompetent, why don''t we take matters into our own hands and go on strike? Show him that we''re not just going to roll over and take it anymore."

    "What about the constabulary?" one of the workers pointed out. "They ain''t gonna take kindly to that sorta thing."

    "Don''t worry about them," Aubrey reassured the group. "They can''t touch us if we stick together and organize. Besides," she added with a grin, "what''s the worst that could happen? Would they jail hundreds of hungry, angry workers all fighting for a decent wage? I don''t think so."

    This seemed to spur on the workers, who all began voicing their agreement. "Right!" one of them agreed. "They can''t stop us if we stand up together!"

    "That''s the spirit!" Aubrey cheered. "Now go on home and tell your mates about what I''ve told ye. Elect a leader who''ll speak for us all. Don''t vote for me¡ªI''m just a woman. Choose a man who''s strong and charismatic. Someone who''ll inspire ye and lead ye to victory. Go on, git! Pass the word to other factories as well. Remember. United we stand. Divided we fall."

    "RIGHT!" the workers all echoed. "Come on, lads! Let''s go tell the others!"

    And with that, the group of workers dispersed, leaving Aubrey alone in the alleyway. As she watched them go, she couldn''t help but smile to herself.

    That went even better than expected. Now if she could just keep that momentum going...

    With that thought in mind, she hurried off to go find the next group of disgruntled workers and repeat the process.

    <hr>

    The following day, while loitering outside the factories and listening in on gossip and complaints, Aubrey overheard a group of workers discussing a special concert that would be held in a private Blackwell-owned theater.

    "Did ye hear?" one worker exclaimed. "There''s a concert comin'' up soon. Top-notch singer and all that. Bet it''s a load o'' rubbish."

    "I dunno," his companion replied. "Sounds a bit interesting. Wonder if she''s better than the late prima donna Lady Aubrey. Don''t s''pose anyone could replace ''er."

    "Not likely," the third worker interjected. "Nobody''s got the voice or the charisma like Aubrey did. Still miss ''er."

    "Aye," the fourth agreed. "Shame the poor lass passed away. Still, Blackwell''s trying ''is hardest to replace ''er, it seems."

    "Eh, well, good luck with that," the second worker retorted. "Aubrey was one in a million. Ye can''t just replace someone like that."

    While the workers continued their discussion, Aubrey listened intently. This could be an opportunity to infiltrate Blackwell''s theater and maybe learn something more about his plans.

    As the workers finished their conversation and went their separate ways, Aubrey tailed the second worker. Once the crowd had thinned somewhat, she approached him and called out, "Excuse me, mate, but did I ''ear ye say that there''s a concert coming up soon?"

    The worker turned around and eyed her suspiciously. "Aye," he replied. "What''s it to ye?"

    "Oh, nothin''," Aubrey replied casually. "Jus'' curious, is all. Mind tellin'' me the details?"

    The worker narrowed his eyes. "Who''s askin''?"

    Aubrey thought quickly. "Lark''s the name. Jus'' a fan of concerts, that''s all."

    The worker studied her for a moment and then seemed to relax somewhat. "Oh, alright then," he acquiesced. "Seems Blackwell''s puttin'' on a concert featuring some new singer. Supposed to be real good. Tickets are goin'' for a pretty penny. Five sovereigns a seat. Can ye believe it?"

    "Blimey," Aubrey feigned surprise. "Must be a good singer."

    "Aye," the worker scoffed. "Or a real phony. Ye can never tell these days."

    "Too true," Aubrey agreed. "Oh. I heard yer friend mention that the songstress died recently. That true?"

    The worker frowned. "Aye," he confirmed. "A real tragedy. Lady Aubrey''s songs have inspired thousands. Will never ''ear the likes of ''em again."

    "Know what she died from? If ye don''t mind me asking." Aubrey probed.

    "Word on the street is she ''anged ''erself," the worker informed her. "Can''t say I''m surprised. Working for Blackwell must''ve taken its toll."

    Aubrey pretended to be shocked. "Suicide?" she gasped. "That''s terrible!"

    "Aye," the worker commiserated. "Tragic end to a talented lady. Rest her soul."

    Aubrey shook her head, feigning sadness. "Terrible," she repeated. "Well, thanks for the info, mate. Cheerio."

    With that, Aubrey bade the worker farewell and made her way back to the cathedral. As she walked, she couldn''t help but smirk.

    Five sovereign tickets, huh? That''s an awful lot of coin. Blackwell must really think his new singer is something. Time to crash the party and find out...

    As Aubrey strolled down the cobblestone streets, a stray memory tickled the back of her mind. She froze and closed her eyes, allowing the recollection to wash over her¡ªBlackwell''s private theater.

    A grandiose building nestled in the south quadrant of the Gildenfaire district. Aubrey had frequented it many times to perform for Blackwell''s lavish parties. Its interior was an architectural masterpiece¡ªmarble columns, ornate murals, and plush velvet seats.

    Its stage was equally impressive. Aubrey had spent countless nights rehearsing and perfecting her craft. She remembered the smell of sawdust and the feel of the velvet curtains brushing past her fingertips.

    Most of all, she remembered the thrill of standing center stage, looking out at an audience filled with Blackwell''s powerful and influential guests. Their approval meant everything to her.

    And now Blackwell was using that same theater to host a concert starring his new singer.

    Aubrey balled her fists and gritted her teeth as a surge of fury washed over her¡ªthe same feeling of rage that proliferated after climbing out of her grave, and again when those graverobbers attacked her. The feeling almost felt alien, as if it belonged to someone else.

    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    But no¡ªit was all Aubrey''s. She was angry. Angry at Blackwell for profiting off her legacy and replacing her so easily. Angry at the world for moving on without her.

    Most of all, Aubrey was angry at herself for dying.

    She had a concert to crash.

    <hr>

    Over the next few days, Aubrey scoped out the theater and formulated her plan. She learned that Blackwell''s new songstress had scheduled multiple rehearsals daily, and that the venue''s security was surprisingly lax. Aubrey recalled the layout¡ªan expansive entrance hall, a ticket booth, and a single door leading to the main auditorium. The guards posted in front of the door allowed attendees to enter once they presented their tickets.

    After analyzing the situation for a day or two and observing the guards'' patterns, Aubrey identified an opportunity to sneak in and observe the rehearsal.

    The new songstress had jet-black hair styled into a messy pixie cut and piercing blue eyes. Aubrey could tell she was a looker, with high cheekbones and a sculpted jaw. However, her facial expressions and body language betrayed a sense of insecurity or doubt.

    Aubrey remained concealed behind a curtain at the back of the theater, watching the new songstress rehearse her set. She had to admit¡ªthe girl had a decent voice. Not nearly as good as hers, but she could hold a tune.

    However, despite her striking looks and her technical prowess, her performance lacked authenticity and emotional depth. Aubrey couldn''t quite put her finger on it, but there was something missing. Something that Aubrey herself had mastered¡ªthe ability to connect with her audience and evoke a raw emotional response.

    As the songstress wrapped up her rehearsal and exited the stage, Aubrey couldn''t help but smirk to herself. Blackwell had found himself a knockoff Aubrey¡ªgood-looking and technically proficient but ultimately lacking the charisma and star power of the real deal.

    But with a little training and coaching, the girl could potentially develop into a formidable rival. Aubrey had to admit¡ªshe admired the girl''s ambition. Whoever Blackwell had hired to train and mentor her clearly knew their stuff.

    Backstage, the songstress¡ªwhom Aubrey discovered her name was Lucille¡ªpracticed a piece of sheet music in a secluded room. Aubrey hid behind a rack of costumes and observed her quietly.

    Lucille''s brow furrowed as she struggled to hit the higher notes. Frustrated, she crumpled up the sheet music and threw it aside.

    "Dammit!" she swore.

    Aubrey detected a tremor of sadness or doubt in the girl''s voice.

    Lucille sighed and composed herself before starting again. The song flowed more smoothly this time. Still, Aubrey noted a distinct lack of passion or emotion in the girl''s voice. It sounded mechanical and flat¡ªlike a well-oiled machine rather than a living, breathing performer.

    Blackwell''s songstress struggled with an A6 riff. Each time she attempted the note, she seemed to lose her voice and veered off-key. The repeated failures sparked another wave of anger and frustration.

    This was who you replaced me with? A mere knock-off with no passion or emotional depth?

    The girl took a deep breath and tried again. Aubrey leaned in close, hoping to observe some small measure of improvement or progress. Instead, Lucille lost control, and her voice broke, devolving into a strained screech.

    This girl might be attractive. She might possess the technical skill, but she didn''t have what Aubrey had¡ªemotional authenticity. The girl wasn''t living the song¡ªshe was just singing it.

    The thought of this pale imitation becoming Blackwell''s star attraction sent another wave of rage through Aubrey''s veins. The familiar surge of supernatural power flared to life deep within her. She remained quiet, resisting the urge to lash out. She clenched her fists and balled her hands until her fingernails dug into the palm of her flesh.

    Yet... as Aubrey watched Lucille practice her craft, her rage subsided somewhat, replaced by a mixture of admiration and pity. Despite her lack of natural talent and raw charisma, the songstress'' effort and passion spoke volumes. The girl clearly wanted this¡ªwanted to succeed. Aubrey had experienced that same feeling¡ªthe desire to pursue her dream at all costs and against all odds.

    She resisted the urge to step out from her hiding place and offer advice. Instead, she silently watched the songstress attempt the piece again, struggling to hit the difficult passages.

    After a few more tries, Lucille gave up, sighing and rubbing her temples in exhaustion.

    Aubrey empathized¡ªshe remembered the countless hours she spent rehearsing and perfecting her own repertoire. It took years of dedication and hard work to achieve the mastery and technical proficiency that she had. Lucille, on the other hand, clearly lacked Aubrey''s natural talent and vocal gift.

    Still, Aubrey couldn''t fault her. Everyone had their strengths and weaknesses.

    After a few moments, Lucille collected herself and exited the room. Aubrey slipped out of her hiding place and followed her, noting the songstress''s bodyguards and minders trailing closely behind.

    As Lucille exited the theater, Aubrey tailed her and trailed her from a distance. Lucille''s guards remained vigilant, their gazes constantly scanning their surroundings for any sign of danger or threat. Aubrey stuck to the shadows and obscured herself from view.

    Lucille entered a carriage drawn by a pair of horses and shut the door behind her. Aubrey noted the Blackwell''s Theater logo printed on the carriage''s side. Before the carriage rolled away, Aubrey caught a glimpse of Lucille gazing out the window, looking rather despondent and disheartened.

    Aubrey lingered outside the theater for a few minutes longer before returning to the cathedral.

    <hr>

    Later that night, Aubrey awoke from her bed in cold sweat. Fragmented nightmares had plagued her sleep¡ªimages of her hanging from a noose and crowds of faceless strangers laughing and jeering at her. She shivered and clutched the sheets tightly.

    Aubrey forced herself out of bed and paced the cathedral''s corridors. A cool draft caressed her skin, easing her nerves somewhat.

    As she wandered aimlessly, Aubrey encountered Thaddeus and Cedric hunched over a table. Intrigued, she approached and investigated.

    "Thaddy. Ceddy. What''s that you''ve got there?" Aubrey peered over Thaddeus'' brass shoulder and examined the table''s contents¡ªa mess of gears and cogs strewn about.

    "Apologies," Thaddeus addressed her. "Art something amiss Aubrey. Observe thy facial expression. Distressed. Conflicted. Care to elucidate the nature of thine inquiry."

    "Nightmares," Aubrey divulged. "Bad dreams. Keeping me up."

    Cedric turned his granite craggy face towards her. "Need to talk about it Aubrey?"

    "Nah. Forget it." Aubrey dismissed the notion. Better not bother them with her trivial problems. They had their own stuff to deal with.

    "Very well Aubrey," Thaddeus complied.

    "Anyway," Aubrey changed the topic. "Mind telling me what you guys are working on?"

    Cedric gestured towards the mess of gears. "Building a clockwork automaton," he explained. "Thaddeus'' idea."

    "Clockwork automaton?" Aubrey echoed.

    "Affirmative Aubrey," Thaddeus elaborated, pointing his brass digits towards the pile of clockwork and mechanical parts. "A mechanical construct capable of basic functions. Unlike myself, this automaton shall not possess the sentience or free will granted unto me via forbidden eldritch knowledge. Instead, this automaton shall simply operate based on its programmed functions. Much akin to a puppet, controlled by its puppeteer."

    "So, like those Gearbound Constables?"

    "Similar," Thaddeus clarified. "Though the Gearbound Constables possess greater levels of autonomy and independent processing. Wherefore this automaton''s programming shall restrict its functionality to basic tasks."

    "Such as..." Aubrey probed.

    "Cleaning. Mechanical assembly. Servitude."

    "Huh," Aubrey appraised the components. Looked like a jumbled mess. Hard to imagine how they''d construct an automaton from them. "Looks complicated."

    "Quite," Thaddeus corroborated. "Though Cedric''s assistance hath facilitated the procedure. His dexterous granite extremities have proved most beneficial in assembling the smaller mechanisms."

    "Sweet. Need any help?"

    Cedric rejected Aubrey''s offer. "No. You should get some rest Aubrey. We''ll handle it."

    "Sure." Aubrey acquiesced. Best not interfere or distract them.

    Thaddeus waved his hand. "Goodnight Aubrey."

    "Night¡ªoh, wait... where''s Liza?"

    "Presently out and about. Procuring sustenance and nourishment."

    Ah. That time of the month.

    Unlike Aubrey''s weekly need to consume strong emotions, Liza fed more infrequently, but required her to consume the vitality of a few people per feeding session. Hence her monthly excursions.

    Aubrey had since grown accustomed to killing and watching people die. Didn''t bother her anymore. Maybe being a revenant or banshee numbed or desensitized her. Or maybe most of her morality and empathy lay in the ether somewhere along with most of her memories. Either way, Aubrey didn''t fret or mourn the loss.

    Didn''t change the fact she enjoyed singing and performing. Just happened that murder and violence factored into the equation.

    Aubrey retired to her quarters and attempted to sleep. Tossed and turned. After an hour or so of struggle, Aubrey resigned to her fate. Insomnia. Splendid.

    A stray System notification pinged.

    [You still have unspent talent and ability points remaining]

    [You have two attributes you can increase by one grade]

    Oh yeah... forgot about that. Might as well invest in them now and pick ones that would help with the upcoming infiltration.

    After scrolling through the lists, Aubrey allocated her talent and ability points accordingly.

    [Genesis of the Illusive Mirage (Fugue Journey, Tier 1, active skill): Creates a basic decoy to distract enemies, drawing their attention away from the user; Duration: 12 seconds; Cooldown: 20 seconds]

    [Vault Over the Augmented Bounds (Fugue Journey, Tier 2, Passive Skill): Improves jump height and distance, enabling access to vantage points or quick retreats.]

    [Dance of the Marionette (Banshee''s Aria, Tier 2, Active Ability): Forces up to three enemies within twenty meters to move according to the Banshee''s whims, leaving them vulnerable; Duration: 15 seconds; Cooldown: 45 seconds]

    [Mood-Enducing Cantata (Banshee¡¯s Aria, Tier 2, Active Ability): Banshees can use their voices to create a cantata that induces a variety of moods in listeners. When singing this cantata, the effects on the audience can range anywhere between calmness and rage. It can be a calming song to prevent hostility, a market song to induce trade, an energetic song to evoke creativity and spontaneity, and so on; Duration: 240 seconds; Cooldown: 480 seconds.]

    Lastly, Aubrey allocated her attribute grades¡ªincreasing her Resonance and Riff attributes by one grade each.

    [Increasing your Resonance attribute boots the reach and magnitude of skills and abilities that buff and debuff targets.]

    [Increasing your Riff attribute decreases the cooldown of skills and abilities, and increases your critical chance as well as the success rate of skill-cancels to provide beneficial effects.]

    [Name: Aubrey]

    [Race: Revenant]

    [Variant: Banshee]

    [Rank: Moderato]

    [Attribute: Grade]

    [Tempo: D]

    [Dynamics: B]

    [Timbre: D]

    [Pitch: C]

    [Harmony: E]

    [Resonance: D] ?

    [Cadence: D]

    [Riff: D] ?

    "Sweet. Done and dusted," Aubrey approved. Excellent upgrades.

    With her talent and ability points allocated and her attributes enhanced, Aubrey reclined in bed, staring vacantly at the cathedral''s decrepit ceiling.

    Insomnia sucked.

 Chapter 24: Crime and Punishment

    "Can''t believe we''ve ''ad to shell out five bleedin'' sovereigns fer tickets," one audience member griped. "Money''s gone up ''is arse. Knocked ''im silly."

    Aubrey half-listened to the gossip surrounding her as she surveyed the scene from behind the curtain. The crowd was already a mix of upper-crust nobles and rich patrons as she suspected. It appeared that Blackwell was even charging by class and social status as there were roped-off sections reserved for only nobles and aristocrats. The rest of the seats were relegated to the middle-class citizens and the workers.

    Despite the bumptiousness of the audience members, there was a palpable air of excitement as well¡ªit seemed that word about Aubrey''s death had spread, and now everyone was eager to see the new face of Blackwell''s entertainment empire.

    The orchestra onstage tuned their instruments with soft arpeggios and scales while the audience chatted among themselves.

    Disguised as an usher, Aubrey headed backstage to seek out the songstress Lucille. Between the Facsimile mask and her Veil of the Hidden Stretto passive skill, no one gave her a second glance. She walked through the throng of performers and stagehands, most of them lost in their own little world. She caught snippets of their conversations.

    "... I told him I was busy tonight..."

    "... do you think the new singer''s any good..."

    "... he had the nerve to complain that he had to stand all the way in the back..."

    It wasn''t long before she found Lucille alone in her dressing room, muttering lines under her breath as she stared into the mirror, checking her makeup. The girl was dressed in an elaborate crimson dress that accentuated her figure nicely, a striking contrast to Aubrey''s tattered work uniform and disguise.

    "...and my heart¡ªI cannot live, I cannot live without your¡ªno, wait, your¡ªI cannot live without your love..." Lucille practiced her lines softly. "Crimson like blood¡ª"

    "Your line''s a little off," Aubrey spoke.

    Lucille jumped, startled at her appearance.

    Slowly, Aubrey peeled away her mask and unveiled her identity. Lucille stared wide-eyed as Aubrey approached and placed her Facsimile mask on the counter in front of her.

    "Relax. I''m not going to hurt you," Aubrey said, assuming a softer tone of voice. "I''m here to help you. I can see that you''re struggling."

    Lucille took a deep breath and exhaled shakily. "You¡ªyou''re¡ª" she stuttered.

    The simmering rage swelled again inside Aubrey. Just by looking at the girl¡ªeven without touching her¡ªshe could see how utterly inexperienced and naive she was. Everything about her just screamed ''I''m just an ordinary girl trying to make it in a cruel world,'' and Aubrey had no doubt that that was what had caught Blackwell''s attention.

    Aubrey bit her tongue to stifle the vitriol threatening to spill from her lips.

    Had it been anyone else... anyone who wasn''t a fucking noble... anyone who actually had to work for it... anyone who understood... who knew... then maybe she''d feel a little sympathy. A little empathy.

    But as it stood¡ªall nobles were cunts. This one would be no different.

    Lucille composed herself and drew a shaky breath. "Lady Aubrey?" she asked with uncertainty. "I''ve heard the tales. Are you¡ª?"

    Aubrey strode forward, closing the gap between them with one step. Her gaze held Lucille''s, her blue eyes sparkling with something close to fear, but also closer to something else...

    "Yes," Aubrey breathed, feeling herself drifting into a strange half-daze as she regarded the girl before her.

    Part of her wanted to give encouraging advice. Lucille had talent, certainly... and the crowd would eat her up... but Blackwell''s vision for her as a star... it would only take away her edge... take away her individuality... turn her into a commodity...

    Yet, another part of her wanted to wrap her hands around the girl''s neck... to squeeze until she''d squeezed out her last breath... or maybe snap her neck and tear her head off, then toss it on Julian Blackwell''s lap.

    Something in Aubrey stirred at that thought... something she hadn''t felt since she''d clawed her way out of her own grave...

    For a moment she could imagine it... the scene unfolding in front of her as if in a trance... her fingers closed around the girl''s neck... she leaned in... and...

    But before her fingers could reach her, they seemed to stall and twitch uselessly in mid-air... as if an invisible force was stopping her from committing to her actions.

    Aubrey blinked... her vision slowly focusing as the dreamy trance she had fallen under seemed to evaporate almost as suddenly as it had appeared.

    Lucille stood there still... trembling... looking both terrified and utterly confused.

    What the hell was I about to do to her?

    "L¡ªLady Aubrey... please..." the girl stammered.

    Aubrey swallowed her anger... or maybe it had simply subsided... either way... the rage she''d felt a second ago had now fizzled to a mere dull ember.

    She smiled thinly at the girl. "So... Lucille," Aubrey said with an exaggerated sigh. "It seems my good friend Julian Blackwell has decided to... how do I put it... replace me so soon?"

    Lucille looked down at her feet. "I''m... sorry Lady Aubrey... it''s just... you''re¡ªwell... you were supposedly... d-dead... and Mister Blackwell¡ªI¡ªI only found out recently..." she stammered, trying to explain herself. "He... he offered me a... an opportunity, and..."

    Aubrey placed a finger against the girl''s lips to silence her.

    "Shh... shh... it''s alright... you don''t have to apologize for anything," Aubrey cooed. "In fact... I think you have what it takes to make it as a star... there''s just... one little issue..."

    "I¡ªI do?" the girl replied meekly.

    Aubrey''s grip on Lucille''s jaw tightened... causing her to cry out softly in surprise as she guided her face closer to her own. "Yes... but... your voice..." she breathed. "It needs some work. It''s good... but... it could be better... here... let me show you..."

    And with that, Aubrey closed her eyes... and she sang.

    She sang the same song she''d just heard Lucille practicing¡ªthe song Blackwell had chosen to open the performance with¡ªexcept her rendition had changed something within the song itself. It had transfigured it... transformed it somehow, and when she finished... Aubrey let her breath linger and whispered the final lines: "... and the blood shall flow, black like your heart..."

    Her words resonated in the silence as a small shudder rippled through Lucille''s body. Her eyes widened and her mouth gaped open with a little gasp. She seemed almost shocked by Aubrey''s singing.

    "You see? It''s all about the emotions... the delivery..." Aubrey explained, trying not to chuckle at how incredibly ridiculous it seemed. She felt the sudden urge to roll her eyes... she felt like an adult giving an improvisation lesson to a child...

    Lucille stared at her with an awed expression on her face.

    Aubrey released her grip on the girl''s chin and let her hand fall away. "The song is good... the lyrics... they''re not bad either... but the performance?... that''s what matters... and the performance is what needs work..." she explained.

    Lucille''s eyes remained fixed upon Aubrey as if transfixed... completely under her spell.

    [Skill: "Shove of the Heartbeat''s Force" Activated! Cooldown: 8 seconds]

    Aubrey grinned¡ªand in a flash¡ªshe slammed Lucille against the wall. Her body crumpled into a heap.

    Aubrey stalked over and crouched beside the prone songstress, tilting her head to look at her unconscious face. Her hair lay in tangles, half-covering her eyes.

    "Sorry... I think it''s better if I take your place tonight," she apologized with mock sincerity. "It''ll only be for one show. After that, you''re welcome to work for Julian Blackwell all you want. I just... have some unfinished business with him."

    <hr>

    With her mask donned and the veil of illusion activated to render her appearance to Lucille''s, Aubrey waltzed onto the stage confidently, in her costume of Lucille''s crimson dress.

    Applause filled the hall and greeted her. The sounds seemed distant... far-off... almost hollow... almost unreal. As she ascended the stage and stepped into the spotlight, her focus honed in on her goal and nothing else seemed to matter.

    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    Bodies of faceless audience members blurred. She blocked them out. Only Julian Blackwell mattered.

    Only he mattered.

    And there he sat¡ªa smug smile plastered on his stupid fucking face¡ªseated in his private box reserved for nobility and the high class. His black hair slicked back perfectly, and his dark suit hugging his frame tightly.

    Julian''s attention was fixed on her¡ªLucille''s form¡ªhis crystal glass of fine wine dangled precariously in his manicured fingers as he raised it towards her with a slight nod.

    In her mind, one of the silhouettes of her four murderers began to resolve itself into Blackwell''s features. A vague sense of d¨¦j¨¤ vu settled upon her¡ªlike a scene from a memory half-recalled or an event half-glimpsed out of the corner of the eye.

    Her breath hitched and she found herself unable to move as she stood frozen on the spot.

    That feeling of anger returned¡ªthe rage bubbling up within her. It boiled beneath her skin, threatening to break free with each step forward she took. She had to hold herself back from launching off the stage right then and there¡ªtearing through the crowd like a deranged animal... just to reach him and rip that smirk off his face.

    But no... she couldn''t... not yet. Not yet. She still had a part to play. So instead she drew in a deep breath... closed her eyes... and sang.

    As the first note left her lips¡ªa piercing E6¡ªsomething rippled out from her¡ªalmost tangible¡ªand the entire audience fell silent. No applause. No clapping. Just total silence. It felt almost unnerving... like a vacuum of sound.

    The orchestra played their parts as she continued her song¡ªher voice soaring and diving with each melodic phrase... and Aubrey let the music flow through her¡ªlet it guide her movements... her gestures... even her facial expressions. It enveloped her, surrounded her... suffused her being as she gave herself over completely to its embrace.

    Julian''s gaze remained locked upon hers, unwavering, unblinking¡ªas if hypnotized by the spell she wove.

    Aubrey continued to sing, letting the lyrics pour out of her. They came easily¡ªinstinctively¡ªalmost like they belonged there all along. And with every word uttered, with every note sung, she could feel her voice growing stronger... more confident... more powerful... until it seemed almost beyond her control.

    And then finally, after what seemed an eternity, Aubrey reached the climactic final refrain¡ªand it burst forth from her lips in one huge crescendo¡ªa thunderous wave of sound that resonated throughout the entire auditorium.

    "And the blood shall flow... black as your heart..." she finished.

    Dead silence descended upon the hall once more... it seemed almost eerie how quiet it was now¡ªnot a single cough or murmur coming from the crowd.

    Aubrey''s performance hung in the air like a physical presence¡ªso thick and tangible she could practically touch it. No one dared move or breathe. Even Julian''s expression had changed¡ªhis usual smirk replaced by a look of utter disbelief. His mouth hung open slightly.

    But as soon as it came, that moment of stillness broke.

    The first applause started from somewhere in the crowd and erupted into a frenzied roar, accompanied by shouts of approval and cheers.

    Julian remained seated¡ªmotionless and speechless¡ªhis eyes wide. The wine glass still held limply in his hand.

    Aubrey stood perfectly still upon the stage, basking in the crowd''s adoration, drinking in their admiration. Her eyes never left Julian''s¡ªeven as she smiled and bowed.

    Something inside her thrilled at seeing him so awestruck and stunned by her singing¡ªbut another part of her knew it wasn''t enough. No. It wasn''t nearly enough. He deserved so much worse. She had so much more planned for him.

    As the applause subsided and the audience''s cheers died down¡ªthe orchestra began to play a soft introductory melody for the next song. It started slow and gentle¡ªbuilding gradually up to the first verse¡ªa stark contrast to the powerful opening number that had preceded it.

    The first verse left her lips in a mournful melody. It was an old song¡ªone of her favorites¡ªa story about lost love and broken promises. As Aubrey sang¡ªher voice tinged with melancholy and longing¡ªshe noticed some of the audience members wiping tears away from their faces... some even openly weeping at her performance.

    Julian hadn''t moved. His eyes were still locked onto hers as she continued to sing. One would expect to see him in full composure but he just sat there staring... dumbfounded and bewildered. The crystal wine glass was still held tightly in his hand¡ªthough it seemed poised to shatter with the slightest touch.

    The sight was so comical that Aubrey felt a sudden urge to giggle uncontrollably. She resisted¡ªbarely¡ªand composed herself.

    Her voice carried throughout the hall¡ªsorrowful yet strong¡ªlike an invocation or incantation... casting its spell over everyone there.

    After several verses and multiple repeated refrains, she delivered her final notes with heartrending effect¡ªdrawing them out long and plaintive¡ªher voice growing steadily louder until it reached its crescendo in one final sustained note that resonated throughout the hall, filling every space within.

    Once more silence followed, broken only by the sound of people sniffling and sobbing softly in their seats.

    Aubrey stood motionless¡ªletting the moment linger as she soaked up all their emotions... savoring them. The anger that simmered deep within her receded slightly¡ªit felt like a distant memory now... something that belonged to another person entirely.

    Her gaze focused upon Julian again.

    He had finally regained his composure somewhat, his expression was no longer one of utter shock and astonishment but rather a mixture of curiosity and intrigue. He stared back at her with narrowed eyes¡ªas if trying to figure something out.

    It made Aubrey want to laugh again. It would have been quite amusing to see what was going on inside his head. What sort of thoughts and feelings could possibly occupy such a small brain? Surely nothing too interesting or important.

    The orchestra played another soft introductory melody as Aubrey prepared for her next number. She drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly as she braced herself for another performance.

    <hr>

    After an hour-long show of singing, dancing, and theatrics¡ªAubrey stood centre stage and took a bow. The audience applauded and cheered once more. She held a hand up to acknowledge the praise. The auditorium''s spotlight illuminated her.

    Julian Blackwell smiled from his private box seat and raised his glass to Aubrey.

    When the applause died down, he rose to his feet and clapped with gusto before throwing two bouquets of roses at the stage. They landed with a thud right in front of Aubrey.

    "Bravo!" Julian shouted in jubilation. "That was astounding! Magnificent!" He turned to address the audience. "Ladies and gentlemen," he announced. "We give you... Lucille! The newest star of our esteemed theatre!"

    The crowd erupted in rapturous applause and cheers once more.

    Aubrey resisted the urge to laugh or smirk, keeping a neutral face instead, and bowed graciously before picking up the bouquet closest to her foot. She held it aloft for all to see as she curtsied again.

    From her peripheral vision, she spotted a dozen security guards idly lining the walls and corners of the music hall. Some wore suits; some wore uniforms bearing the logo of Blackwell Enterprises. They all carried truncheons and batons tucked away behind them¡ªhands hovering close to their sides where they could reach the weapons at a moment''s notice.

    Hmm¡­

    Although opera houses and music halls were cultural venues emphasizing decorum and propriety among their patrons, Blackwell clearly intended to ensure no one would dare interfere with his plans tonight. Or worse yet, stage some form of protest or protest song.

    Fortunately for Aubrey¡ªand unfortunately for them¡ªtheir efforts would be futile.

    The final act of her show was about to begin.

    Throughout her performances, she thought of how to get to Blackwell''s private box and what she would do once she got there. A part of her wanted to go full out¡ªthrow caution to the wind¡ªtear through the crowd like a bull in a china shop¡ªuse every skill in her arsenal to eviscerate his whole guard detail while making a big production number out of it.

    However, that would create way too much unnecessary chaos and damage. After all, Aubrey still needed to stay under the radar as much as possible, keep a low profile so she wouldn''t attract attention.

    Still... She was donning Lucille''s visage. Any witnesses would see this as Lucille going insane and running amok.

    No.

    Aubrey wanted Julian to see her¡ªthe real her. Wanted him to know exactly who the last face he saw before he died. Wanted him to look her in the eyes as he perished.

    Maybe he was the type of guy to go to Lucille''s dressing room to congratulate her personally afterwards? No doubt he''d be all smiles and fake compliments... maybe even have the nerve to hit on her inappropriately... offer her some "deal" involving sex in exchange for fame... something he''d undoubtedly done plenty of times before...

    She could wait until then. Once the guards had left his side... once he was alone... that would be when she''d strike.

    No! Fuck being subtle and covert! This bastard deserved nothing less than to be put on display¡ªa lesson to all those who tried to use her or cross her!

    Besides... there''d be no guarantee that it would happen. It could all end up just being wishful thinking. He might not come to Lucille''s dressing room at all. Maybe he''d leave the building right away after the show and go straight home instead¡ªleaving his guards behind to escort Lucille. Or maybe he''d head into another venue for a nightcap at some exclusive gentlemen''s club where he could boast about his accomplishments.

    All of which meant Aubrey only had one shot. One opportunity.

    Rather than going on a complete rampage here and now, she settled on another idea.

    Aubrey gazed at the orchestra below her. Their instruments rested silently by their chairs¡ªsome had already vacated their seats to chat among themselves¡ªothers were busy packing up their instruments to depart.

    Oh no you don''t. I''ve got one more song for you all to play.

    She tossed the bouquet of roses aside as she strode to the curtain and reached down behind it, grabbing Hellion''s Cry off the floor.

    The instrument glinted brightly under the auditorium lights¡ªreflecting flashes of red and orange onto Aubrey''s face. As she held it out to her side and brushed its strings with her free hand, the orchestra and the audience went silent at once.

    Julian Blackwell stood at the edge of his private box seat¡ªa confused look on his face as he looked down at her.

    "Ladies and gentlemen..." She gestured to the band as she raised her guitar to her chest. "One more number. If you will."

    [Ability: Mood-Inducing Cantata activated! Duration: 240 seconds; Cooldown: 480 seconds]

    The first note Aubrey sang was sharp, a piercing cry that cut through the silence of the hall. It was a sound that seemed to come from deep within her soul¡ªsomething primal... something almost animalistic. It poured out of her mouth like venom, laced with bitterness and hate.

    Aubrey''s fingers flew across the fretboard of her guitar, picking out notes as she belted out another stanza¡ªletting it flow freely¡ªmaking no effort to hide her feelings from anyone present. Her eyes locked on Julian''s as she sang out.

    The orchestra, under the influence of her cantata, found their fingers moving of their own accord, playing a song they had never rehearsed and without a single sheet of music before them¡ªbut now knew intimately. Notes soared and dipped, perfectly complementing Aubrey''s vocal range. It was as though an invisible conductor guided their every movement¡ªalmost as if they too shared the same sentiment as her.

    Her voice rose steadily in volume as she finished the first verse¡ªthe intensity of her delivery building with each word until she hit a powerful high note that pierced through the air like a gunshot. Her cantata reached out to the crowd¡ªpulling their emotions towards her, shifting the mood to reflect hers.

    Julian stared transfixed at the stage¡ªhis eyes wide with disbelief, his hands gripping the railing of his private box tightly.

    Slowly¡ªever so slowly¡ªAubrey walked toward the edge of the stage and lifted the Facsimile mask off her face... and the illusion of Lucille''s appearance dissolved.

    Gasps echoed throughout the audience as she unveiled herself.

    Aubrey''s crimson eyes pierced through Julian''s with all the coldness and malice they could muster.

    "Remember me?" she sang between stanzas. "Or have you forgotten my face already?"

 Chapter 25: Caution to the Wind

    Julian Blackwell stared dumbstruck at her for a few seconds¡ªas if trying to process what he saw¡ªbefore taking several steps away from the edge of his private box seat.

    At this distance, Aubrey couldn''t hear him speak, but she did see his lips form the words ''You''re supposed to be dead.''

    "What can I say... I guess I''m hard to kill," Aubrey continued her song. Her fingers plucked the strings of her instrument furiously¡ªa sharp contrast to the melancholic melody that flowed out of her mouth. Her voice rose and fell with the rhythms of the orchestra. Each phrase articulated with perfect clarity and emotion.

    "I bet you think you''re so clever..." she sang with spiteful relish. "Did you really think you''d gotten rid of me that easily? Well, you were wrong!" The last words came out almost as a snarl.

    Aubrey shot Julian a smirk as she delivered another line: "I will never die."

    Her fingers flew over the frets of Hellion''s Cry¡ªher movements becoming increasingly frenzied as she played out the final verses of the song. It seemed like the guitar itself was channeling Aubrey''s rage¡ªthe sound resonating with an intensity that made the air vibrate around them.

    Julian backed up against the wall behind him¡ªhis face pale and drawn in fear.

    Aubrey raised her hand as she belted out the last chorus of her song, drawing out the notes with her vocal fry while gesturing to Julian dramatically¡ªpointing an accusatory finger straight at him while staring deep into his eyes.

    "Black heart... black soul... black death! I will find you all! You can''t escape me! None of you can!" Aubrey''s voice thundered through the auditorium.

    And when she hit the final chord, it exploded out from her in one deafening crescendo, accompanied by the orchestra''s instruments sounding together in unison¡ªtheir collective music resounding throughout the hall like a thunderclap.

    [You¡¯ve acquired a moderate amount of experience.]

    Aubrey held her final note for several seconds¡ªher eyes still fixed on Julian''s¡ªas if daring him to defy her.

    The stage lights flickered overhead as silence settled upon everyone present once more. No applause. No cheers or shouts of approval. Just quiet astonishment at what they had just witnessed.

    Julian Blackwell stared down at Aubrey with wide eyes¡ªhis expression frozen in shock and horror. His gaze darted around wildly¡ªscanning the auditorium¡ªbut not focusing on anything specific. He looked almost like he might faint any moment.

    Then, he pointed a trembling finger at her and bellowed with a shaky voice: "G-g-guards! Kill her! U-unhallowed! K-kill her before she kills us all! Don''t let her get away!"

    The crowd started murmuring to each other¡ªexchanging glances among themselves¡ªappearing uncertain at first, but soon becoming increasingly agitated and restless.

    Meanwhile, the security guards around the perimeter of the theatre reacted immediately to Blackwell''s orders¡ªdrawing their weapons as they advanced toward Aubrey.

    Tsk. Too many people around.

    [Ability: Moon-Inducing Cantata activated! Duration: 240 seconds; Cooldown: 480 seconds]

    While inflicting terror was beyond the scope of her ability¡ªinstilling dread and panic would have to do.

    Aubrey aimed her hands skyward as she sang out loud once again¡ªletting her voice carry throughout the auditorium and surround the entire building. Two voices resonated at once¡ªlike the time during the cemetery¡ªone coming from her throat and another¡ªher Unhallowed voice¡ªemanating from inside her ribcage.

    The auditorium began to quake under the influence of her power. Cracks formed along the walls and ceiling¡ªthe wooden floorboards splintered apart.

    The crowd erupted in a panic. Chaos ensued as they ran screaming and pushing each other aside towards the exits¡ªthe sound of their frenzied cries filling the hall. Some tripped over themselves and fell down while others trampled each other in their haste to flee.

    Meanwhile, the guards that approached her brandished their batons and truncheons. They glanced warily at one another as they cautiously circled around her¡ªa couple even paused and hesitated as they felt the full weight of her cantata settling upon them.

    Aubrey grinned mischievously at the menacing security detail surrounding her. She flipped Hellion''s Cry over and gripped its neck tightly. It''s blade gleamed wickedly in the light from the stage lights overhead.

    "Oh... hello there," Aubrey taunted in a singsong voice. "What do we have here? Care for a better look at me, boys?"

    And with those words she burst into action.

    Before any of them could react, she dashed forward¡ªslashing through the closest guard with a vicious swing of her guitar-axe, decapitating him with one swipe. He collapsed to the ground in a pool of blood and gore. His head rolled away across the floor¡ªsending sprays of crimson liquid everywhere¡ªwhile his body lay twitching on the ground.

    She lunged at the next closest man¡ªa blond-haired thug wearing a dark suit¡ªand swung again at him, slicing open his throat as he raised his arm to block her attack. Blood sprayed out in an arc from the wound as he clutched at his severed neck desperately, trying to keep the spurting fluid within.

    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    Aubrey danced between her enemies, weaving a deadly ballet of blades and bodies. Each strike sent showers of blood spraying out, coating her face and clothes in red.

    [Ability: Dissonant Chord activated! Duration: 18 seconds; Cooldown: 30 seconds]

    Two more men charged toward her¡ªboth wielding batons. But before they could get close enough to hit her, one of them turned on the other with glazed eyes and smashed his club into the side of his companion''s skull. The other toppled sideways onto the floor¡ªhis head caved in and leaking brain matter¡ªdead instantly from the blow.

    Aubrey giggled excitedly at the scene as she ducked under an incoming truncheon strike and then counterattacked by severing the arm holding it. The attacker screamed in agony as he fell to his knees clutching what remained of his limb.

    [Skill: Sonorious Counterpoint activated! Cooldown: 10 seconds]

    Meanwhile, several other guards continued to circle around her warily¡ªwatching carefully as she moved back and forth among them while keeping her attention focused on whichever one got too close. Her gaze flickered briefly over each of them in turn before moving onto the next one¡ªalmost as if she was deciding which one she''d kill first.

    From the corner of her eye, she saw Julian Blackwell finally found the nerve to leave his box seat and made a desperate attempt to flee from the theatre. He pushed past the security guards who had gathered at the doorway to protect him and hurried towards the exit with two other men following close behind.

    One of these guards fired his gun at Aubrey when she glanced in their direction¡ªhitting her squarely in the chest. Her body jerked violently from the impact¡ªcausing her to stumble for a second before steadying herself again.

    Another guard took advantage of her temporary lapse in focus and charged at her with a raised baton.

    [Skill: Genesis of the Illusive Mirage activated! Duration: 12 seconds; Cooldown: 20 seconds]

    With a single thought, she created a copy of herself right beside the man running toward her. The image wavered for a moment before becoming solid again.

    The man''s eyes widened as he stared at the vision standing before him. He drew back from the apparition¡ªdropping his baton in surprise.

    Her decoy grinned at him¡ªits red eyes gleaming¡ªas it slowly walked closer until it stood directly in front of him.

    The other guards watching nearby stared at the sight with confusion written across their faces. Their attention momentarily distracted from the real Aubrey.

    She seized the opportunity to attack the nearest guard by rushing up behind him and burying her axe''s blade deep into his back¡ªsinking it halfway up its length before pulling it free again. Blood gushed out from his wound as he collapsed onto the ground dead.

    While this happened, the illusory version of Aubrey vanished into thin air in a wink of light. This prompted all the remaining security guards surrounding her to rush toward her frantically.

    Aubrey let out another peal of laughter as she evaded their frenzied attacks by dashing around the stage¡ªleaping over fallen bodies and severed limbs while simultaneously dodging the flying truncheons and bullets that zipped past her head.

    [Ability: Dance of the Marionette activated! Duration: 15 seconds; Cooldown: 45 seconds]

    She belted out a commanding note as she gestured with one hand toward the two men closest to her. As though hypnotized by her words, they spun around in circles to face each other and began swinging their weapons wildly at one another, mimicking her movements exactly.

    While she swung her axe in the air, the two men clubbed one other until they both fell to the floor battered and beaten.

    Aubrey darted among the last few attackers remaining nearby¡ªslashing through them as easily as if they were made of paper. One after another dropped to the ground in pieces until only the last guard who had been shooting at her from the distance remained.

    He fired off several more shots before he ran out of ammo¡ªthe bullets whistling past her ears harmlessly.

    [Hellion''s Cry ability ''Thraunquill'' activated]

    She flipped Hellion''s Cry over once more and strummed it quickly with her thumb¡ªlaunching a barrage of ethereal blades toward the final guard. The conjured notes slashed across his body, leaving bloody gashes everywhere. He fell onto his backside¡ªhis body riddled with wounds.

    Aubrey dashed up to him as he lay dying. She planted her boot on his chest and gripped her axe''s hilt with both hands before slamming it down between his eyes in one swift motion. It sank into his skull with a sickening crunch.

    Blood sprayed out from under her foot as she wrenched it free again. She gave a satisfied nod before turning away from the man''s corpse and walking towards the exit without another glance back.

    She knew where Julian''s car would be¡ªright outside the theatre waiting for him. And she wanted to make sure he didn''t have time to get away before she caught up with him again.

    <hr>

    With Hellion''s Cry resting comfortably over her shoulder and blood dripping down its blade and along the fretboard¡ªand still clad in Lucille''s dress stained in red¡ªAubrey exited the music hall through the main entranceway onto a broad street lit by gas lamps.

    The night breeze felt refreshing against her skin after all that fighting inside. It blew across her face as she inhaled deeply, savoring its crispness. A full moon loomed overhead amidst the blackness above, casting everything beneath in its silvery glow.

    Several security guards waited for her at the end of the street near a parked car resembling a Model T with a hardtop and a bit more gears and pipes decorating the body. They stood watch over Julian while he climbed into the vehicle''s passenger seat. One of them hurried to take his place in the driver''s side while the others climbed into the rear compartment behind him.

    They revved their engines loudly as they started pulling away from the curb¡ªtires screeching against cobblestone pavement.

    Aubrey sprinted toward them, her long legs carried her across the distance swiftly. She shoved through the last two men who blocked her path¡ªforcing them aside as she leaped towards the moving vehicle.

    Her guitar-axe struck the rear windshield with a resounding crash¡ªshattering it completely¡ªbefore lodging itself deep into the metal frame below. She swung her leg around and used her boot to kick at the glass shards that remained stuck in place¡ªfreeing her weapon in the process. Then she swung herself up onto the roof of the car, hanging precariously as it sped down the street.

    One of the men sitting in the back turned around to shoot at her through the window hole, missing several times before managing to hit her arm. Her body jerked back slightly from the impact but she quickly recovered. She flipped over onto her stomach and crawled forward until she reached the edge overhanging above the driver''s seat where she hung upside down directly above him.

    "Hello there," Aubrey said cheerfully, bearing her fangs at him in a grin. "Going my way?"

    The driver swerved erratically, causing the car to skid across the road, failing to shake Aubrey off as she held on tightly with one hand.

    Aubrey glimpsed Julian cowering on the far side of the passenger''s seat. His hands covered his face in fear; his eyes shut tightly while he mumbled something repeatedly under his breath. He looked utterly pathetic and helpless now. Nothing like the confident nobleman she had seen earlier in the theatre.

    She laughed at this sight before looking back down at the driver once again and asking, "Any chance you might let me borrow your ride? I''m kinda in a hurry to kill someone."

 Chapter 26: Road Rage

    The car surged forward, engine roaring as it raced through the nighttime streets of Mordenstradt. Its tires squealed loudly as it turned sharply around corners, bouncing over bumps and potholes while occasionally swerving side to side across the road.

    Aubrey clung to the roof of the vehicle¡ªher grip tightening with each sudden turn it took. She crouched low on all fours¡ªher guitar-axe still gripped firmly in one hand while the other dug into the metal frame for balance. The wind tore at her hair and clothes, sending them flapping wildly behind her as she rode atop it like a cowboy riding a wild bull.

    Blood flowed freely from the bullet wound in her arm¡ªdrenching her sleeve red¡ªbut she paid little attention to it. Instead she focused entirely on maintaining her hold upon the speeding car and trying not to fall off.

    Music from her Harmonic Synesthesia played out around her, augmenting the visual cues that flashed through her mind. She weaved among the bullets that tore through the roof from below¡ªtwisting and contorting her body to avoid them while also blocking several with her guitar-axe.

    The sound of gunshots matched the rhythmic pulses¡ªeach successive bang representing a new beat or note¡ªwhile Aubrey dodged as if she was performing a choreographed routine.

    It wasn''t perfect. She felt the sting of a few bullets grazing her skin as they flew past her. But it wasn''t enough to stop her. Not by a long shot.

    Aubrey sang along to the music playing in her head, her voice echoing out around her, as she continued to weave and sway among the onslaught of gunfire from below. Her crimson eyes gleamed brightly beneath the moonlight with excitement.

    "Where are you running off to, Julian? This little chase can only end in two ways," she taunted through gritted teeth. "Me killing you or you crashing and burning. Death is the only escape, darling."

    Inside the car, Julian Blackwell cowered, his aristocratic composure shattered. He shouted orders, his voice laced with panic. "Faster, damn it! Get her off!"

    The driver gritted his teeth, muttering curses as he jerked the wheel left and right, navigating the labyrinth of Mordenstradt''s streets. He wove between obstacles, narrowly missing street lights and other vehicles.

    Suddenly, the car veered into an alley, causing Aubrey to slip and hang halfway off the edge¡ªthe walls closing in like the jaws of a trap. Her fingers clawed at the roof desperately until she managed to secure a grip once more.

    Aubrey''s synesthetic vision lit up with warning signs, the cramped space offering little room for maneuver. But she adapted instantly, her body flattening against the side of the car as it scraped against the brickwork, throwing sparks.

    The car skidded sideways out of the alleyway, narrowly missing a large group of people gathered outside a tavern. People scattered as the car careened through the cobblestone street, running for safety as it screeched onto a wide boulevard where cars and carriages shared the road with horse-drawn omnibuses. The driver swerved around these vehicles before turning sharply down another side street.

    The car''s rear tire hit a pothole¡ªa loud thud echoed within the passenger compartment¡ªas Aubrey vaulted over the side railing and landed back on top. She clambered to her feet and steadied herself again.

    Aubrey slammed a fist on the roof twice in quick succession¡ªher crimson eyes glowing brightly as she stared at the driver.

    "Come on... that''s all you''ve got?" she taunted him.

    The driver executed a sudden U-turn, a maneuver meant to dislodge Aubrey with its abruptness.

    But she was ready.

    The world slowed in her perception, the turning car tracing a wide arc of glowing lines that she followed with supernatural agility. As the car completed its turn, she launched herself into the air, flipping gracefully before landing on the hood with one knee bent and a hand planted firmly on the glass windshield. She flashed her fangs in a malicious grin.

    The driver gaped at her¡ªhis eyes widening as he slammed on the brakes.

    Aubrey punched through the windshield and grabbed the driver by the collar of his suit. Her fingers dug into his flesh¡ªtightening their hold around his neck.

    As the car came to a screeching halt, the force of the sudden stop flung her from its hood while also tearing the driver out through the opening she had created¡ªthe sharp edges of the broken glass slicing through his clothing and skin. Both bodies rolled across the pavement for several meters before coming to a stop.

    Blood pooled beneath the driver''s motionless form, his head twisted at an unnatural angle.

    Aubrey picked herself up, brushing dust off her dress and retrieving her guitar-axe from nearby. Her gaze locked onto the car''s remaining occupants as she sauntered toward them with a limp and a smirk.

    "Ready or not... Here I come!"

    <hr>

    The two surviving security guards exited the car with rapiers drawn. One man with sandy hair and a hooked nose and another balding fellow whose face shone with sweat despite the chill night air. They stood side by side, pointing their swords at Aubrey''s approaching figure.

    "Stay back," Hook Nose commanded. "Don''t come any closer." His voice trembled slightly as he spoke.

    "Or what?" Aubrey retorted mockingly. "You''ll stab me?"

    She glanced over their shoulders towards Julian who remained huddled in the passenger seat. He peered between his fingers at Aubrey like a frightened child cowering from monsters in the dark.

    "Get him outta here!" Hook Nose barked at Baldy.

    Baldy nodded nervously as he turned around to pull Julian out of the vehicle while his partner kept his weapon trained on Aubrey. The nobleman stumbled forward clumsily¡ªnearly falling flat on his face¡ªbefore regaining his footing. Then he scrambled away frantically down the street without even bothering to look back once.

    "Where do you think you''re going?" Aubrey called after him.

    The two men charged at her simultaneously¡ªtheir swords thrusting toward her chest in unison¡ªhoping to catch her off guard with this coordinated attack.

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    Aubrey danced around their blades¡ªdodging and weaving through their strikes effortlessly¡ªbefore landing a spinning roundhouse kick on Hook Nose''s head which sent him sprawling into a puddle of water. She then deflected Baldy''s strike with her guitar-axe before counterattacking with a vicious downward swing of her own that bisected him from shoulder to hip. His corpse fell apart into two pieces as his entrails spilled onto the road.

    Hook Nose clambered to his feet and turned toward Aubrey¡ªhis face covered in dirt and grime from rolling in the muck¡ªas he raised his rapier above his head in preparation to strike again. But before he could launch his next assault, Aubrey swung her guitar-axe against his sword¡ªparrying it aside while simultaneously pivoting on one leg and planting her foot into his gut¡ªknocking the wind out of him.

    She then spun around in place twice before striking him hard across the side of his skull with the edge of her axe''s blade. Blood sprayed everywhere as his head split open like a ripe melon thrown against concrete.

    The body slumped lifelessly to the ground.

    Aubrey straightened up and glanced over her shoulder to find Julian still scrambling away. He darted along the sidewalk as fast as his legs would carry him¡ªhis suit flapping wildly behind him like a cape.

    She took off after him in pursuit. Her long strides allowed her to easily overtake the stumbling nobleman within seconds. He cried out as she grabbed him by the back of his collar and lifted him off his feet as if he weighed nothing more than a ragdoll.

    Julian flailed wildly in midair as he struggled against Aubrey''s hold while also screaming hysterically all the while. "No! No! Let me go!"

    Aubrey glanced around.

    The commotion had drawn several witnesses out of nearby buildings. Some were staring wide-eyed at the scene¡ªtheir faces filled with terror and awe¡ªwhile others peered through windows and doors from inside their homes or businesses. She realized they''d soon alert the authorities if she didn''t do something fast.

    With a swift punch to the jaw¡ªAubrey silenced Julian''s cries for help. His limp body dangled loosely from her grip as she carried him through the alleys and backstreets, heading back towards the Gallow''s Row. She made sure to stay off the main roads and avoid attracting too much attention¡ªkeenly aware that there could be pursuers on her tail at any moment.

    <hr>

    Back at the Cathedral of the Sovereign Incantatrix, Aubrey hauled Julian''s unconscious body through its heavy wooden doors. She dragged him across the stone floor and up the staircase to her private room. The man''s limbs scraped across every step until Aubrey deposited him into a chair facing the foot of the bed.

    His head lolled forward onto his chest; blood dripped from his nose and mouth onto his rumpled suit¡ªstaining the fine fabric with crimson stains.

    Cedric''s heavy footsteps echoed down the stairs as he entered the chamber. The gargoyle surveyed the scene with an arched stony eyebrow, his arms crossed. "You look like you''ve had a busy evening."

    "I have indeed," Aubrey replied cheerfully as she knelt before Julian, checking his pulse to ensure that he remained alive. When satisfied by his condition she turned her attention to Cedric who stood nearby watching silently.

    "This is Julian Blackwell. He''s one of the four people responsible for my murder," she said matter-of-factly. "And I intend to make him pay dearly for it."

    The gargoyle tilted his head curiously at this declaration before taking a few steps closer to examine Julian up close. "So he''s one of your killers... hm?" His voice held no emotion whatsoever. He sounded like he might comment on the weather next rather than the bloody sight before him.

    "Yep. And I want to find out what he knows about my death before I send him straight to hell."

    "Very well," Cedric remarked simply. "Would you like some help with that?"

    "No thank you." Aubrey smiled brightly as she gazed down at the unconscious nobleman sitting motionless in front of her. "I''m going to enjoy doing this myself."

    "As you wish," the gargoyle responded with a bow.

    With those words¡ªthe gargoyle turned away and headed back out of the chamber once more¡ªhis stone feet scraping along the floor as he walked away without another word spoken between them.

    Aubrey began removing Julian''s clothes piece by piece¡ªfirst taking off his jacket and tie¡ªthen proceeding to remove his shoes, socks, and pants¡ªuntil he sat naked except for his underwear. Finally she lifted him up bodily and placed him upon the bed before tying him securely with ropes around his wrists and ankles to prevent escape.

    She drew Lucille''s dress over her shoulders and tossed it aside along with the rest of her clothing¡ªleaving only her undergarments in place¡ªbefore climbing onto the bed and straddling his waist so that her knees pressed against either side of his torso¡ªpinning him down beneath her weight.

    She leaned forward¡ªbringing her face close to his ear¡ªand whispered, "Wake up dear..."

    A sharp crack echoed through the chamber as she slapped his cheek with all her might¡ªthe force behind her strike enough to snap his head sideways violently and jolt him into consciousness again.

    He opened his eyes slowly¡ªblinking repeatedly while trying desperately to focus on Aubrey hovering above him. His gaze traveled downward along her body until he noticed how exposed she appeared before finally raising his gaze back up to meet hers again.

    His eyes widened in panic. He opened his mouth as if to scream but no sound escaped his lips save for a faint whimper that escaped his throat.

    Aubrey smiled wickedly at him and brought a finger up to press against her lips¡ªsignaling for silence¡ªwhile placing one hand firmly across his mouth to stifle any further attempts at crying out for help. Then she bent forward toward his ear again and hissed quietly: "Shhh... don''t worry... I promise not to hurt you¡ªtoo much."

    Julian let out a muffled whine from behind Aubrey''s palm as she held him tightly in place underneath her. She released his mouth and instead gripped his chin between two fingers, forcing him to stare directly into her crimson eyes, as she continued speaking softly into his ear.

    "Didn''t expect to see me alive again, did you? Did you think you had gotten away with murder? I bet you thought I''d just lay there like a good girl and die for you," Aubrey said in a low voice before adding menacingly, "You made a grave mistake."

    Julian''s breath quickened¡ªhis chest rising and falling rapidly¡ªas he struggled weakly against the ropes binding him. Sweat covered his pale skin, making it glisten under the flickering candlelight.

    Aubrey drew one long fingernail along the length of Julian''s torso¡ªslowly dragging it upwards until she reached his neck¡ªbefore circling around it teasingly several times. All the while she stared intently into his terrified eyes without blinking once, a cruel smirk spread across her lips.

    "Now then," Aubrey continued speaking calmly even as she raked her sharp claws across his chest leaving a trail of bloody welts across its surface. "What shall we discuss first? Hmm?"

    "Please..." Julian pleaded hoarsely through clenched teeth, tears forming at the corners of his eyes. "Aubrey! I beg of you, spare me! I''ll give you whatever you want! Money? Jewels? Anything!"

    Aubrey rolled her eyes impatiently at this pathetic display before slapping him across the face once more. "I don''t care about your riches... what I need to know is why you and your little friends killed me," she said icily while stroking his cheek with her knuckles almost lovingly. "Tell me everything... and perhaps I''ll make your death less painful."

    "It wasn''t my idea!" Julian blurted out hurriedly. "The others came to me and said that they needed to eliminate you! They said you had become a problem for them! I didn''t have a choice!"

    "Oh? You could''ve refused them. You could''ve tried to reason with them. Yet you still went through with it anyway." She began clawing deeper into his chest drawing blood¡ªhe cried out in pain as she continued speaking evenly. "So I''ll ask again... Why? Tell me everything."

    "Because of what you were becoming!" Julian choked out.

    Becoming? What does that mean? Becoming... an Unhallowed? But that can''t be right.

    She had only become one after awakening in this body. Her new existence as an Unhallowed had nothing to do with her previous life in this world. How would she have posed any kind of threat to them before that point?

    Aubrey furrowed her brows as she pondered this question silently for a moment before turning back to Julian and asking, "What exactly was I ''becoming'' then?"

    Julian stared back at her in silence¡ªhis gaze unfocused¡ªas if trying desperately to think of how best to answer her inquiry. Finally, he spoke again.

    "A-an Unhallowed..."

 Chapter 27: Just Desserts

    Wait... she was already turning into an Unhallowed before she died?! What the fuck?!

    That didn''t make any sense at all. If her transformation into an Unhallowed had been well underway before her demise, then why did the System say that she had awakened as a Banshee-revenant? If Julian and the others had planned to kill her before she became one, then they clearly failed at that.

    There had to be more to it.

    Aubrey gave Julian another slap across his cheek just for making her irritated. He whimpered pitifully beneath her as she climbed off the bed and paced around the chamber floor with her arms folded across her chest. Her eyes darted about while her thoughts raced through possibilities.

    If she hadn''t yet fully transformed before her murder, then what had happened to trigger the process? And why did these four think killing her would stop it from happening? What did they expect to happen afterwards? Did the System play a role here? It didn''t seem like Cedric and the others knew or interacted with a System of sorts, so that meant that being an Unhallowed wasn''t a requisite for having one.

    Ugh... so confusing. She really needed to find out more about what an Unhallowed actually was. Maybe it''d clear up some questions regarding her origins.

    But first, she had other concerns to deal with. Like a certain sniveling nobleman tied to her bed.

    "If you were trying to stop me from turning into an Unhallowed before I even changed into one, then you fucking suck at your job. So who put you up to it?" Aubrey asked sharply as she strode back over towards him and stared down at him coldly. "Who? Answer me."

    Julian''s mouth trembled slightly as he struggled to form words¡ªhis entire body quaking in terror. Sweat dripped off his face onto the sheets beneath him. Aubrey leaned closer, her crimson eyes locked on his pale blue ones, as she waited impatiently for a reply.

    Finally he managed to speak again. "It w-was H-Helena... Helena Voss. Sh-she told me you needed to die... s-said you weren''t meant to be here..."

    Helena Voss? Who the hell was that? Again, the name sounded familiar but Aubrey couldn''t recall ever hearing it spoken during her time in this world. If only she could remember everything, instead of just bits and pieces here and there. But since her memories weren''t coming back, she had to rely on others filling in the gaps¡ªif she could trust what they said.

    "Tell me more about her," Aubrey commanded harshly.

    "Sh-She works with the Luminous Consortium... I don''t know much about her..."

    Luminous Consortium? Sounded like another fancy-schmancy organization with a bland naming sense. It certainly fits with the aesthetic of this place, though.

    "Well... tell me everything you DO know about her. Don''t leave out any details... or else I''ll be forced to get... creative with my questioning techniques." Aubrey made sure to emphasize the last part of that statement with a long slow glance down at her claws, tapping them against Julian''s thigh for emphasis.

    He swallowed hard and began talking rapidly as if he''d explode if he didn''t get it all out now. "H-Helena approached me some time ago... asking me questions about you. Wanted to know if I''d heard anything strange about you lately... or noticed any changes in behavior or abilities. When I told her what had happened during your recent performances, sh-she warned me about you becoming something dangerous... and said it w-was imperative that we take action immediately."

    Aubrey smirked wryly. "And by ''take action,'' you mean kill me."

    Julian nodded feebly as he continued. "She insisted upon it... I-I tried to convince her otherwise... I swear! But she wouldn''t listen... so eventually I caved in... because she threatened to ruin me otherwise!"

    Her gut told her that he wasn''t entirely candid, but his body language conveyed too much desperation and fear for him to be making up this story on the spot. So at least he''s telling some parts of the truth. That was good enough for now.

    "Okay... let''s say I believe your little sob story. How does Helena figure into all of this? Is she working for someone?"

    "No," Julian replied quickly before adding hastily, "I don''t think so anyway."

    "Oh? Do go on then."

    "She seemed like she just wanted to prevent you from getting too powerful. Said that someone would come looking for you eventually... someone very dangerous..."

    "Who?" Aubrey pressed impatiently.

    Julian shrugged helplessly. "I don''t know! She never said exactly... Just kept warning me about how important it was that you died before that person could find you."

    Aubrey furrowed her brows in thought¡ªtrying desperately to remember anything about her life as Aubrey Sinclair¡ªbut came up empty-handed once again.

    Frustration gnawed at her insides, causing her face to contort into a scowl while her nails dug deeper into her palms until tiny droplets of crimson formed underneath them. She released an exasperated sigh as she looked away from Julian toward the window behind him where moonlight shone brightly through the glass panes casting a pale glow across the floor below.

    "Alright... next question. What were your original plans for me before that decision changed? I managed to find those ledgers you kept in your office. Don''t even try lying about it. I know you kept meticulous records. I also know about your little scheme with those Luminal Projectors and those imbued posters. You planned on using me as a pawn to influence public opinion in favor of the Blackwell Industry''s political interests, didn''t you?"

    Julian nodded meekly as he spoke. "That''s right... we planned on using you as a sort of figurehead for our cause. Your popularity among the people would make it easier to gain support for certain legislation we hoped to pass... but that changed when Helena got involved..."

    "Because she wanted me dead instead?"

    Julian nodded once more. "Yes."

    "What about those projectors? Whose bright idea was that?"

    "Helena''s..."

    Of course it was.

    "So she supplied them to you?"

    "She gave the schematics and instructions for their construction... The Iron Circle provided the resources necessary to build them..."

    Aubrey''s eyes widened slightly. "The Iron Circle? That''s the group you''re part of?"

    "Yes..."

    Ugh... politics and secret societies. Of course there''s a freaking Illuminati-wannabe group here too. Guess that''s just how shit rolls around here.

    "What were you planning on doing with those projectors? I''m guessing they don''t have any relation to those posters either."

    Julian shook his head vigorously. "No! The poster campaign was merely a test run... We wanted to see if we could really pull off what Helena had proposed. Once we confirmed its effectiveness, then we intended on expanding its application..."

    "To what end?" Aubrey questioned sharply.

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    "It would allow us to directly manipulate the masses..." Julian confessed reluctantly, lowering his gaze away from Aubrey''s piercing stare. "With those projectors installed throughout the city, we''d be able to broadcast our messages straight into everyone''s homes without them knowing. They''d see exactly what we wanted them to see, hear exactly what we wanted them to hear, and feel exactly what we wanted them to feel, whenever we pleased... All without realizing they weren''t even aware of anything else around them..."

    "I doubt everyone would be able to afford such a luxury," Aubrey remarked dryly. "You''re only targetting the upper echelon, aren''t you?"

    Julian remained silent¡ªhis eyes averted from hers as he stared down at the bed beneath him¡ªas if ashamed of himself for revealing all this information willingly.

    "Yeah... that''s what I thought." Aubrey said in response to his silence.

    Seemed like she unexpected stumbled upon a greater scheme during her investigation, something with much deeper implications than just a simple murder. The people responsible for her death might have just been pawns themselves in someone else''s game.

    "How long had you guys planned for this?"

    Julian shrugged slightly before answering, "Years... It took time to gather enough resources to put everything into place."

    Years? So, it wasn''t just an opportunistic endeavor once I got famous.

    This plan must have predated Aubrey''s involvement with him. That meant she somehow fit into their strategy later on, perhaps when he realized just how influential she was becoming. He probably figured he could leverage her popularity and talent to further his own agenda, maybe even create a cult of personality around her.

    But then this Helena Voss showed up, wanting her dead, which led to things taking a darker turn.

    After a few seconds passed in silence, Aubrey returned her attention to Julian, noting his eyes flickering nervously between her face and the ropes binding him to the bed.

    Her eyes wandered down towards his groin area¡ªtaking note of the obvious bulge forming underneath his trousers¡ªbefore letting out a sigh of disgust as she rolled her eyes at him. "Oh my... despite all this terror, it seems you still get aroused. How pathetic and disgusting you are."

    Julian said nothing in response¡ªalthough judging from the flush creeping up his neck and the faint whimper escaping his lips¡ªher words clearly had an effect on him regardless.

    She felt strangely pleased at his reaction, despite feeling repulsed by the whole display.

    Did her other self still harbor some lingering feelings for the man? Had he been a lover at one point? Perhaps more than just a friend? Was it possible they had once cared deeply for one another, until the scheming got in the way? Or maybe she had always known about his intentions and decided to play along willingly.

    A sudden wave of dizziness washed over her, making Aubrey unsteady upon her feet¡ªforcing her to sit down beside Julian on the edge of the mattress. Her head spun with newfound thoughts, accompanied by flashes of images flittering behind her eyelids every time she blinked.

    This man... this filth¡ªhe enjoyed abusing power, especially over women. There had even been a few instances when he''d gone too far¡ªthe way he''d force himself on her and how scared and helpless she felt at his whims. How she had no choice but to acquiesce and endure it for her career''s sake.

    Yet she had forgiven him. Over and over again, until... well, until he was complicit in her murder.

    That might explain why she felt drawn towards him despite knowing what kind of monster he truly was. Maybe they were both monsters in the end. Monsters that hurt each other because hurting each other made them feel good.

    The memory faded away after that, leaving her flushed with heat while she panted for breath. Sweat clung to her skin¡ªmaking it glisten under the light of the oil lamp beside them¡ªwhile tendrils of desire twisted within her guts, spreading outward until they reached down to pool between her legs.

    Beneath the rage and disgust that still stewed inside her, another urge continued building up.

    Guess the interrogation session ended early. Maybe this was all she was going to get out of him. It didn''t seem like he knew anything else useful anymore. She''d gotten most of the information she wanted from him anyway, so now all that remained...

    "Alright, Julian. You''ve been a good little boy tonight... Well... as good as you can be under the circumstances," Aubrey said teasingly while crawling slowly forward atop the mattress until she straddled him again. Her lips brushed against his ear as she whispered huskily, "Now... let''s see how much fun we can have together... one last time... shall we?"

    The look in his eyes and the way his lips tugged into a trembling smirk told her everything she needed to know¡ªdespite any fear he might''ve felt, that opportunistic glint in his gaze couldn''t hide just how eager he seemed about this. Selectively hearing the "fun" instead of the "one last time" probably did wonders to soothe any misgivings he had about this. The cogs in his head clearly working overtime to convince him that his manhood could save his skin in some way.

    Stupid fool.

    No matter... she''d indulge these dark impulses now that they surfaced within her¡ªbefore sending him to oblivion afterwards. It''d give her some release at least.

    <hr>

    Aubrey dragged Julian by his bound legs across the graveyard''s grassy surface¡ªhis face scraping harshly against the rough dirt and stones along the way¡ªwhile ignoring his muffled pleas for mercy behind his gag.

    Their brief tryst had left him weak and broken¡ªboth physically and mentally¡ªso much so that he couldn''t even put up any resistance to his fate as she dragged him toward his doom. Not that she cared; the only thing on her mind right now was revenge.

    As she approached the very same unmarked grave where she had awakened, she glanced down into its depths with a sense of grim satisfaction. The earth remained untouched since her emergence, not a single footprint or disturbance to indicate that anyone else had come or gone after that fateful night.

    She paused at its edge and looked down into its shadowy depths before turning back to face Julian again.

    "This is the grave where I got my life back. A place of rebirth. And now, it''ll become your tomb," Aubrey stated coldly while staring down at him with unwavering crimson eyes.

    Julian merely stared back at her through tear-stained eyes, shaking his head vigorously while mumbling incoherently beneath his gag.

    Aubrey grinned wickedly as she lifted her foot above his head and slammed it down hard against the ground next to him.

    "I want you to know this," she continued speaking softly¡ªa cruel smirk spreading across her lips. "All four of you failed. I''m still alive."

    She squatted down beside him and stroked his cheek gently with her knuckles before adding mockingly, "Oh, don''t worry about the others. They''ll be joining you... sooner rather than later. It''s just a matter of time. You can count on it. And when you see them in hell, you can tell them all about how it feels to rot away underground, screaming silently into the dark while waiting for death to finally come. It''s going to suck. And there won''t be anything you can do to stop it. You can take solace in knowing you''re the first though, so you can show the others how it''s done."

    With that, Aubrey grabbed hold of his ankle once more and began dragging him towards the hole. Julian struggled against her grip¡ªhis entire body convulsing violently¡ªbut she held firm as she lowered his legs over the edge before dropping him unceremoniously inside.

    Aubrey listened as he tumbled against the walls of earth below before landing heavily against what used to be her coffin, crushing it further under his weight. She leaned forward and peered down at him lying prone amidst broken wood fragments and scattered dirt¡ªhis eyes wide and terrified¡ªwhile he tried desperately to push himself up from where he lay.

    But it was no use; she''d made sure to bind him tightly enough to ensure complete immobility.

    Grabbing the shovel lying off to the side, Aubrey began scooping up large amounts of earth and tossing it onto Julian''s helpless form¡ªone scoop at a time¡ªwhile humming a dirge that echoed eerily through the night air around them.

    She ignored his frantic pleas for mercy¡ªhis muffled cries and whimpers fading away into silence as each mound of dirt buried him deeper and deeper into his tomb.

    ? ? Oh bury me not, on this lonely hillside,~ ? ?

    ? For the ravens will come down to fill their nest~ ? ?

    ? Their black feathers fall upon the ground around you,~ ? ?

    ? A shroud for you, so black and endless.~~ ?

    She continued singing while dumping load after load onto him until only his head remained uncovered, his face contorted with despair as he realized his fate had finally caught up with him.

    Aubrey paused in her work and stared down at him one last time with an almost serene smile tugging at her lips as she said softly: "Goodbye, Julian... I''ll miss you... in a way."

    Then, she continued shoveling the dirt above him until only a freshly packed mound of soil marking where he now lay entombed beneath her feet, before returning the shovel back to its proper place amongst the graves surrounding them.

    She stood there silently for several minutes staring down at the grave, lost deep in thought. The terror and despair that emanated from Julian during his final moments had sated her spectral hunger¡ªbut more importantly¡ªhad appeased her lingering need for revenge, finally granting her a measure of peace despite how cold and hollow that feeling felt right now.

    This had been only the beginning, however. There were still three more people left to account for before her vengeance would be truly fulfilled... But before then, she needed to figure out more about what kind of creature she had become... and exactly what happened to her other self... and whether or not she could regain her lost memories...

    The System once again interrupted her thoughts with a new message.

    [You''ve acquired a large amount of experience]

    [Your rank increased from Moderato to Allegretto]

    [You have 2 unused Talent Points]

    [You have 2 unused Ability Points]

    [You can increase one of your attributes by one grade]

    Perfect. What a great way to finish off a successful night of revenge and debauchery.

 Chapter 28: Post-Murder Clarity

    In her private chambers, Aubrey sat on the floor cross-legged in front of her fireplace¡ªits flames burning brightly against the darkness¡ªas she contemplated everything that had transpired the night before.

    Despite having taken her first step towards retribution, it did little to quell her frustration. She was plagued by unanswered questions about her true nature as an Unhallowed, the specifics of her murder, what led up to it, and why others wanted her dead. She wondered why she reincarnated as her previous self''s counterpart. There had to be some connection between everything; she just didn''t have enough information to piece it together.

    She sighed heavily as she gazed deeply into the flames dancing merrily before her eyes. It almost reminded her of the fire burning in her soul every time she sang upon the stage and felt its rapturous energy surge through every fiber of her being. It consumed everything else around her except for the notes pouring out from deep within, making her forget about everything except the melody, the rhythm, and herself.

    The flickering light also brought images to mind. Pictures from her previous life flickered into existence as the embers flickered within their hearth¡ªyet they vanished as quickly as they came¡ªelusive and intangible as shadows cast upon a wall. She tried desperately to hold onto them but could never grasp a hold of anything substantial except fleeting feelings of familiarity.

    Most of the memories she did manage to recall involved music or performing, always surrounded by people who watched in awe at the spectacle she put on for them. This must have been her favorite part, expressing herself freely with all the world as her audience¡ªgiving voice to whatever emotions swept across her mind, allowing them to take control and direct her performance accordingly¡ªand feeling alive as she lost herself amongst its chaos.

    But something else lurked just beyond that sense of euphoria¡ªsomething darker, something more primal¡ª¡ªyet it remained elusive whenever she attempted to focus upon it, keeping itself hidden behind layers upon layers of veils. Whatever it might''ve represented remained a mystery to her still.

    The System''s prompt startled her, drawing her away from the thoughts she''d lost herself in.

    [Your rank has increased from Moderato to Moderato to Allegretto]

    [You have 2 unused Talent Points]

    [You have 2 unused Ability Points]

    [You can increase one of your attributes by one grade]

    Might as well invest this stuff into improving myself. It''ll make taking these assholes down that much easier.

    This time though, it seemed like she could only increase one of her attributes instead of the usual two. Was her progression starting to slow down now? She''d just have to see if that remained the case in the future.

    Alright then... if she could only boost one, it''d have to be her Tempo. Faster reaction times and skill executions could be the difference between living and dying¡ªespecially given how much her survival relied on getting the chance to use her skills.

    [Name: Aubrey]

    [Race: Revenant]

    [Variant: Banshee]

    [Rank: Allegretto]

    [Attribute: Grade]

    [Tempo: C] ?

    [Dynamics: B]

    [Timbre: D]

    [Pitch: C]

    [Harmony: E]

    [Resonance: D]

    [Cadence: D]

    [Riff: D]

    Aubrey reached out to touch the skills panel in the window¡ªbringing up the list of her currently unlocked and available skills. Between all her Talent Trees, she had concentrated her expenditures on the Sonata Path and Fugue Journey. She liked the idea of a balanced approach in combat so Sonata Path was a no-brainer, and her penchant for sneaking around and causing chaos certainly aligned well with the Fugue Journey''s methods.

    Should she start branching out more into the other Talent Trees? There wasn''t really a ''wrong'' path to go down for choosing skill branches. Ultimately it all depended on personal preference or style, which could change over time. For now though, she wanted to continue focusing on these two Talent Trees for a bit more until she built a foundation to work with.

    [Achieving the Allegretto rank allows you to choose from the list of Tier 3 skills. The other requirement is to have unlocked at least two Tier 2 skills of the respective Talent Tree.]

    Perfect. Another incentive to specialize.

    With that decided, Aubrey examined her two Talent Trees¡ªskimming through them briefly before finding what she wanted:

    [Mirage of the Elusive Motif (Fugue Journey, Tier 3, active skill): Generates three sophisticated decoys, increasing the confusion among enemies. These copies have a limited capacity to act independently and can deal minor damage to foes. Cold iron or silver weapons dispel the copies. Duration: 15 seconds; Cooldown: 40 seconds]

    [Escape Through Inverted Realms (Fugue Journey, Tier 3, active skill): A skill that allows instant repositioning, flipping one¡¯s position with that of a decoy or enemy, akin to an inversion in a fugue where the theme is mirrored. Duration: Instant; Range: 8 meters; Cooldown: 30 seconds]

    Two fantastic skills and there was no hesitation as she made her choice.

    She had been outnumbered many times already since her awakening, so having another way to turn the tide or get out of danger if necessary seemed like a wise decision. Escape Through Inverted Realms had a high potential to misdirect, allowing for easier counterattacks, so it got the green light from her.

    Her gaze fell upon the panel which now contained the information of her two Ability Trees¡ªBanshee''s Lament and Banshee''s Aria. Between the two, Banshee''s Aria seemed better suited for long-term utility due to the sheer flexibility and diversity of the effects it granted.

    But as she glanced over two abilities in the Banshee''s Lament path, she just had to pick them.

    [Echoes of Anguish (Banshee''s Lament, Tier 3, active ability): Enemies that strike the Banshee with a melee weapon are afflicted with a curse that causes minor damage (necrotic) over time. The damage ticks every 2 seconds and stacks twice. Duration: 20 seconds; Cooldown: 45 seconds]

    [Veil of Despair (Banshee''s Lament, Tier 3, active ability): Enemies in close proximity (2 meters) to the Banshee have a constant, slow drain (necrotic) on their health every 6 seconds. Duration: 24 seconds; Cooldown: 60 seconds]

    Aubrey grinned from ear to ear.

    So far, she had specialized in dodging, evasion, and disorientation, but she didn''t have many ways to actually harm her enemies without using Hellion''s Cry. Now, she could just dance around and keep the aggro on her while they slowly shuffle off into the sunset. The perfect ''play'' for her performance.

    She let out a self-satisfied sigh as she closed the window before leaning back against the foot of the bed¡ªstaring up at the ceiling in thought while humming softly under her breath. Her gaze wandered idly about as memories drifted through her mind accompanied by bits and pieces of melodies.

    A sudden chill ran through her body¡ªas if someone had just stepped upon her grave¡ªand a feeling of dread swept over her¡ªthough she couldn''t understand why or where it came from. She looked around nervously¡ªthe room empty except for herself.

    It probably wasn''t worth worrying about it. Someone might have just been talking shit about her on the street or something. She took a deep breath to steady herself before pushing herself upright again.

    Her first of four targets was now out of the picture, but there were still a lot of things to do following the aftermath. She wanted to make sure the Blackwell name did not emerge unscathed from all of this, which meant she had to keep enticing disgruntled workers into riots or strikes. That and finding more answers from that scheming bastard''s connections would help lead her closer to the others¡ªand Helena Voss was next.

    Before that though, she wanted to celebrate her achievement with a rockin'' concert.

    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    <hr>

    Unhallowed Harmony took the stage the next night¡ªbut instead of a basement dive or seedy back alley tavern, the stage stood at the front of a wide-open plaza on the southern edge of Gallows Row.

    The plaza itself was surrounded on all sides by buildings with grim-faced stone facades, their windows shuttered and their doors boarded up against the outside world. The streets surrounding the square were cobblestone and slightly uneven, the kind of streets that made it difficult to navigate by carriage or foot, forcing people to trudge through the muck and mire instead of driving past in the comfort of their carriage.

    A thick layer of fog clung to the cobblestone streets, lending a ghostly atmosphere to the whole scene. It drifted in thick patches from the alleys and streets nearby, curling around the buildings like fingers reaching out of the shadows.

    Despite this, a sizable crowd had gathered to witness the concert. They stood shoulder-to-shoulder in the front row, with a few bold individuals pushing their way into the audience. Those who couldn''t fit in the front had climbed onto nearby buildings or hung out of windows to get a better view, their arms outstretched and waving wildly to catch the attention of the band.

    The air smelled faintly of stale beer and sweat, but beneath that was the unmistakable scent of a crowd anxious to lose themselves in a night of reckless abandon.

    As Aubrey gazed out across the crowd, she couldn''t help but feel a sense of satisfaction at their size. It was obvious that their popularity had increased greatly since the last time they performed. There was no longer any need to worry about shoving their music down people''s throats. Instead, word-of-mouth and reputation seemed to be doing the job for them.

    Despite their newfound popularity, the band retained its air of mystery and intrigue¡ªeach member still concealing their identity behind ornate masks and clothing except for Aubrey herself. In her case, her scandalous outfit seemed to help attract even more fans and supporters to her cause.

    Her current ensemble consisted of black leather thigh boots¡ªshiny and tight-fitting¡ªwith steel tips protruding from the toes, and dark pants held up by a wide belt made from polished black leather. The pants themselves were low-cut at the hips and form-fitting around her thighs but flared out near her calves before tapering at the ankles.

    She wore a corset made of crimson velvet¡ªadorned with intricate patterns of silver thread and ivory beads¡ªthat hugged her slim waist while accentuating her shapely curves. On top of that, she donned a jacket tailored from deep black suede over a silk blouse embroidered with crimson roses, showing off her cleavage. She left the top three buttons of her blouse open to draw the audience''s eyes even more to her assets, allowing just enough peek-a-boo skin to arouse curiosity and lust without overstepping into blatant indecency.

    Aubrey''s signature wail pierced the night as the first chord struck out in a crescendo. The band launched into one of their trademark sets featuring fast-paced thrash-style riffs accompanied by fierce growling vocals and complex rhythms that thundered through the plaza.

    The audience erupted with wild cheers, screaming and stomping in unison as they danced along to the music. This sort of savage, cathartic merriment was what she lived for. The screams of the crowd, the reverberations of her own voice against the air, and the connection that came from sharing something so primal and powerful with others filled her with a sense of belonging she could never find anywhere else.

    This kind of raucous enjoyment of the musical arts could only occur when people gave themselves fully over to it¡ªmind and body surrendering themselves to the experience without reservations or hesitation¡ªand reveled in its euphoria as much as the musicians did themselves.

    In this moment, she felt free and unburdened by everything else weighing on her¡ªher struggles with her identity, her murder, the rage boiling in her core, the curiosities about her nature as an Unhallowed. It was a moment to get lost in the moment, and the only thing that mattered was creating beautiful chaos.

    Between verses, she glanced back at her bandmates who kept time and provided rhythmic support to her vocal fury.

    Cedric''s drumming had a forceful, relentless energy to it¡ªwith every beat striking home perfectly on its mark, like the cracking of a whip or the boom of thunder rolling across a stormy sky. It carried the listener along in its current, driving them forward without pause.

    Thaddeus''s bass contributed a steady foundation on which the rest of the song could flourish¡ªan ever-present throbbing beat underlying the rest of the melody, allowing the music to breathe without growing too chaotic or overwhelming. His skills gave a smooth, almost lulling feel to the piece.

    Liza''s violin brought an ethereal quality to their work. Its melody soared high above the din, weaving around and between the heavier sections with an elegance that seemed almost improvised at times. It floated along¡ªflitting from one note to the next¡ªbefore taking flight again a few seconds later.

    Lastly, Aubrey''s vocals and guitar took the reins and propelled everything forward, wrapping it all together in a thick wall of sound that filled every centimeter of the plaza¡ªbooming through the night air in a primal cacophony.

    She let her voice cut loose, leading the band through different dynamics as she switched between low, guttural growls and piercing shrieks. All the while, she hopped and danced around the stage, letting her long black hair whip wildly around her shoulders as her head bobbed up and down¡ªher crimson eyes gleaming fiercely beneath her dark bangs.

    Between the intensity of her voice, the relentless hammering of the drums, and the driving force of the bass and violin¡ªit almost seemed like the performance could tear the world apart at the seams. But, even still, the crowd continued screaming and shouting¡ªjumping up and down to the beat of their own frenzied heartbeats.

    To everyone gathered there¡ªthose who lived on Gallows Row, those who roamed through these streets at night to get a taste of something different, even those who watched from the windows or rooftops overhead¡ªUnhallowed Harmony played for them alone.

    <hr>

    Aubrey and her band returned to the cathedral following the gig''s conclusion¡ªtheir equipment in tow¡ªafter having performed an encore to raucous applause, which had made the audience''s enthusiasm seem even louder than before.

    She promptly collapsed on one of the pews in a mixture of fatigue and satisfaction from how well things had gone, leaning her head back and sighing deeply while she let her mind wander through the fog of her thoughts. Her hair hung limply about her face, dampened with perspiration from all the exertion during tonight''s concert.

    "Splendid performance as always, everyone!" Thaddeus spoke with his usual bombastic tone. "I daresay tonight might have been our best yet."

    Cedric began removing his heavy robe and unceremoniously tossed them in the corner of the room¡ªan action he always did to free himself of the stifling layers¡ªbefore responding. "Indeed, it was certainly the most crowded I''ve ever seen. Though, I must admit... I could have played my solos with a little more panache though."

    "Nonsense, dear friend, your drumming has grown even more inspired these past few weeks," Thaddeus interjected, and Aubrey agreed with his sentiment. Cedric had indeed been progressing incredibly well in their gigs. She kept encouraging him to expand his horizons a little, push his musical prowess to even higher peaks, but so far, he''d stuck with simple yet solid rhythms for the band''s sake.

    Liza made her way over to the nearby bench, collapsing beside Aubrey and laying her head gently on her lap while she murmured something about being tired. Shadows swirled lazily around her, intermittently dispersing like wisps of black smoke before recombining with Liza''s outline.

    "Maybe... the crowd would have... died down a little... if you two... would stop... with your... after-concert banter..." Liza responded groggily from between deep breaths.

    Thaddeus scoffed at her words. "Come now, our interactions with the audience only helps to grow their attachment to us even more! Let them bemoan the loss of our company! It makes them even more desperate for the next opportunity to see us perform!"

    "But... we are Unhallowed. If... any of us... is to get discovered... we''d better not... raise any suspicions..." Liza reasoned, and Aubrey knew it would be hard to argue against her statement.

    "Would people generally run away if they find out that we''re Unhallowed?" Aubrey asked as she lazily brushed away loose strands of hair that fell in front of Liza''s eyes. "I mean... I met a shopkeeper who didn''t seem afraid of me after she sensed I was one."

    Cedric kneeled next to the pew and leaned over to begin massaging the small of Aubrey''s back¡ªhis large hands working wonders to release the knots that had built up throughout the night.

    "Humans have always feared us. It is our nature, and theirs too," Cedric whispered in a gravelly tone. "Most respond with fear... and some, with anger and hate, or intrigue and curiosity. Some see us as abominations; others as powerful beings to worship. It matters not whether they believe us to be of good or evil. We will always inspire dread in them."

    Thaddeus nodded his assent. "Verily, Cedric speaks the truth. Most encounters that humanity has ever had with the Unhallowed have been as prey to predator. For example, you and Liza require their essence to sustain yourselves¡ªLiza more so than you. To them, we are all monsters they need to hide from and defend against."

    "But you two don''t need to feed on humans," Aubrey pointed out.

    "Indeed not," Thaddeus acknowledged, "Not every Unhallowed requires the same sustenance. I cannot speak for Cedric, but my existence relies solely on my core''s inherent vitality. Nonetheless, my existence as an automaton with a consciousness would be deemed an abomination."

    Aubrey looked back at Cedric who stopped his massaging and simply held her gaze as his hand remained upon her. "Cedric?" she prodded.

    The gargoyle let out a long sigh as if thinking of something in his past before he responded. "My existence is bound to my role as the protector of this church and you¡ªthe chosen of the Sovereign Incantatrix. If my task were to end, I would perish alongside my purpose."

    "Hmm, so all this Unhallowed stuff seems really complicated. There doesn''t seem to be any consensus on what exactly an Unhallowed should be," Aubrey mused out loud. "I''m guessing that something could either be born as one or turn into one, right?"

    Thaddeus nodded sagely. "Yes, your thoughts reflect my own. Among us, only Cedric was born as such, whereas you, I, and Liza... well, we became so because of circumstances in our previous lives, some of which remain... murky."

    Aubrey pondered these new revelations as she watched Liza slowly drift into slumber.

    That was why Julian and the others had set out to murder her. She had become something ''other'' than them. They feared that her transformation would eventually come to bite them in their own asses, so they took action to ensure that would never happen.

    Well... despite their reasons, Aubrey would have her vengeance on all of them regardless.

    After all... a life for a life... right?

 Chapter 29: Under His Skin

    The week following Julian''s "disappearance" had not been kind to the Blackwell family, nor their factories. The workers had struck in solidarity, refusing to go back to work until changes were made within the company. They had flooded the streets with their signs and protesting, forcing the guards to form a defensive line.

    As Aubrey watched, she felt a sense of vindication for her actions. Not only was she pleased to see Blackwell''s plans crumbling, but she also found the strike itself to be admirable in its defiance of authority.

    For over a month, Aubrey had been the phantom architect of this uprising, weaving through the ranks of the oppressed, her words fanning the smoldering embers of dissent into open flames. She had done this through subtle influence¡ªplaying the role of a revolutionary within the ranks of the workers¡ªspreading her ideas through whispered conversations, veiled comments, and barely hidden messages.

    Now, the workers had come to the fore, their demands echoing across the Ironworks streets.

    The leaders of the strike, makeshift orators standing atop crates, held speeches to rally the workers and vilify the Blackwell family, casting them as villains who exploited their laborers with unfair conditions and sub-standard safety. Their cries of justice rang out through the crowds of laborers and gathered sympathizers, bolstered by the din of marching boots.

    The factory''s foremen, identifiable by their finer clothes and haughty stares, appeared beyond the gates, their attempts to placate the crowd falling on deaf ears.

    They told of a concerned family grieving the disappearance of one of their own, swearing up and down they''d make changes once they got more information on the causes of his sudden departure. These false promises were drowned out by the din of the protests. The foremen realized the futility of their words and disappeared behind the factory walls again.

    As the day wore on, the stand-off intensified. Neither side yielded, each waiting for the other to break first.

    One of the guards stood at the front of the line, shouting for the crowd to disperse and go back to their homes. His words went ignored, however, as the workers continued to chant and shout.

    "We want better wages, better conditions, and Blackwell ain''t givin'' us nuthin'' but promises that he don''t intend to keep!" one of the protesters yelled back, waving his fist in the air.

    Aubrey couldn''t help but smirk to herself. These workers had no idea the real reason for Blackwell''s absence, and they likely didn''t care. All that mattered to them was that their demands were heard and their grievances addressed.

    An argument began between a handful of the guards and some of the protesters who pushed too close to their line. Several more guards came forward from behind to reinforce their ranks. Some of the protesters took the opportunity to grab their signs and start shoving against the line of guards. Others continued chanting, and some began throwing stones and whatever else they could get their hands on at the guards.

    "Keep back, by order of the Mordenstradt Constabulary!" a guard cried out while they tried to shield themselves from the onslaught of projectiles. "Go back home or we will resort to calling in the Gearbound Constables! This will end badly for everyone!"

    Despite their efforts, more and more of the guards began getting shoved around by the workers. This caused others to charge in behind their comrades, leading to a general melee breaking out in the square. A few of the protesters¡ªthe smartest ones¡ªgrabbed their friends and began dragging them away. However, most were too caught up in the moment to think rationally.

    As Aubrey watched on, several Gearbound Constables arrived and began to wade into the crowd of protesters, clubs raised to quell the riot. Men and women fell under the heavy blows, writhing in pain or passed out on the cobblestone.

    She didn''t stick around long enough to see how things played out. Instead, she slipped away into the shadows, her giddy mind already racing ahead with her next moves.

    With many of their guards preoccupied with the protests, it was a good time to infiltrate Blackwell''s main estate¡ªto lay hands on anything useful and mess with his reputation as much as she could. It had to be done as quickly as possible too. With how this rioting and the workers'' actions against the Blackwell family seemed to be progressing, it wouldn''t be long until the Constabulary mounted an investigation to find the source of their troubles.

    <hr>

    In the dim light of a secluded chamber, Aubrey held the Facsimile Mask in her hands, its weathered mahogany surface smooth and unsettlingly life-like under her touch. She raised it to her face and willed its magic into existence, the mask shifting and contorting like melted wax until it molded to her visage, transforming her features into that of Julian''s.

    She willed its effects to progress further, altering her body to resemble his as well. She felt a momentary panic as her body contorted, reshaping itself to match Julian''s taller, more imposing stature. Her frame grew thicker and broader, her limbs elongating and the weight of her chest disappearing entirely. A painful yet strangely exhilarating experience, like pulling oneself through molasses.

    As soon as the process finished, she found herself looking down at herself with unfamiliar eyes. Instead of her lithe, alluring body, she now saw Julian''s... and felt slightly off-balance.

    With a steadying breath, Aubrey collected her thoughts and did a few stretches. She walked over to the full-length mirror on one of the walls to inspect herself more thoroughly, making sure to familiarize herself with her new form and its limitations. It wouldn''t do to start stumbling about awkwardly while trying to go about her business.

    She wore the tailored suit that Julian had worn that night¡ªa bit disheveled now thanks to her rough treatment of him¡ªbut otherwise intact.

    After taking a moment to adjust to her new appearance, Aubrey practiced Julian''s voice, finding the timbre and cadence easy to imitate, and¡ªmost importantly¡ªit matched his inflections to a certain extent. It was an unsettling experience, hearing his words emanate from her throat, but she shrugged the discomfort off with an act of will.

    As for how to act¡ªwell, that would depend entirely upon whom she encountered while disguised.

    Aubrey''s mind replayed every encounter, every snippet of memory she possessed of Julian. His body language, the way he carried himself, the way his facial expressions shifted in tandem with his words, how he presented himself as this big and influential man of power¡ªevery single detail she could recall that helped her build a framework for how to best pretend to be him.

    Funny how memories of him felt so... crystal clear now after she had buried him alive, compared to how disjointed her own life''s recollections felt when she awakened.

    Now then, it was time for a little larceny...

    With Julian''s face, Aubrey left the room and made her way to the manor.

    <hr>

    The Blackwell estate consisted of multiple buildings connected by a series of winding hallways and enclosed gardens¡ªall of them elegant, well-kept, and opulent, exuding the kind of wealth only the upper crust could afford.

    Aubrey approached the main gate with a confident stride. At her approach, the guards snapped to attention, a mixture of confusion and relief in their eyes.

    "Lord Blackwell, you''re... here? We heard you were missing?" one of them ventured, disbelief coloring his tone.

    "Disappearances do have a tendency to be rather misleading, do they not?" Aubrey retorted in her best ''Julian'' impression¡ªcocking an eyebrow haughtily while glancing between the pair of guards with the expression of an irritated lord whose authority they''ve just questioned.

    The guards hesitated, exchanging uncertain glances, but at her imperious gesture, they stepped aside. "Yes, sir! Sorry for our poor manners!"

    As she passed, Aubrey could feel their eyes on her back, following her with wary stares. She forced herself to relax and adopt the posture of a man used to authority.

    As she strode toward the manor proper, the doors opened wide to admit her into a luxurious entryway with marble floors and mahogany walls, all decorated with fine paintings and sculptures. Chandeliers hung overhead, lighting the place with a warm glow, and at the end of the hallway, a grand staircase led up to the second floor.

    "Lord Blackwell! You''ve returned! We thought the worst had happened!" a male butler with greying hair hurried over and began helping her remove her overcoat.

    The butler, Aubrey guessed.

    Another memory flashed in her mind. This one''s name was Joseph¡ªJulian''s head butler.

    Aubrey allowed him to help, subtly taking the chance to inspect the man''s appearance¡ªhis weathered features, tired eyes, and stooped shoulders¡ªbut aside from his slightly slumped posture, nothing stood out as particularly noteworthy.

    She did notice the faint smell of cigarette smoke hanging about him though.

    "No worries, Joseph. I''ve handled my own affairs," Aubrey responded coolly, removing her gloves and tucking them into a pocket. "How are things in my absence?"

    "It''s as you see, sir." Joseph gestured toward the rest of the foyer where several more servants scurried around, their heads bowed low and their steps hurried. "Most of the household staff are working overtime, keeping things in order during these difficult times. Many of your associates and partners have sent search parties to look for you¡ªin some cases, several¡ªand they''re also doing their best to maintain some semblance of business as usual."

    "Excellent. Do remind them that I am, in fact, quite alive, would you?"

    "As you wish, my lord." Joseph gave her a slight bow and scurried off, leaving her alone once again.

    The manor itself seemed designed to impress more than anything else. Each room held an excessive number of antique furniture and elaborate wall tapestries, alongside a plethora of exquisite decorations scattered about. Aubrey had half-expected to see statues of Julian¡ªmaybe one made out of pure gold sitting in his office for all she knew¡ªbut it seemed that even this overbearing, pompous prick had the decency to not be that ostentatious.

    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    Aubrey spent the next couple of minutes walking aimlessly about, exploring the lower level of the mansion while making idle conversation with any servants she came across. The servants, conditioned to respond with deference to the master''s presence, paused in their duties to offer respectful nods or curtseys, but kept their chatter minimal.

    She responded with curt nods, adopting the brisk, no-nonsense stride she associated with Julian¡ªtrying to keep a confident air without going overboard with it. The last thing she wanted to do was draw attention by acting suspicious.

    The weight of the Facsimile Mask on her face felt heavier with each interaction, but it wasn''t overwhelming¡ªat least, not yet.

    he grand hallway, with its marble floors and gilded portraits of Blackwell ancestors, seemed to echo more loudly under her steps. A housekeeper, a stern woman with graying hair pulled back into a tight bun, approached her. "Lord Blackwell, you''re here! Is everything alright, sir?"

    Aubrey started, before smiling politely and waving off the older woman''s concern. "Yes, thank you, Mrs. Haversham. I''ve managed to settle my... indiscretion."

    "Oh, it''s good to have you back, sir, safe and sound." She paused for a second before adding, "Shall I start preparing a bath, sir? You look... worse for the wear. Or perhaps, would you care to visit the conservatory to relax first? Mr. Greaves would no doubt like to talk to you regarding his investigation about your disappearance."

    "Not right now," Aubrey snapped. "I have business in my study and should not be disturbed."

    Mrs. Haversham frowned. "Sir, Mr. Greaves had insisted he see you upon your return. He would like to meet with you¡ª"

    "Now. Is that understood, Mrs. Haversham?"

    Aubrey spoke in a tone that brokered no further arguments, staring down at Mrs. Haversham with an icy glare. The housekeeper wilted under her gaze and reluctantly acquiesced to Aubrey''s wishes, bowing slightly and stepping aside to let her pass.

    As she ascended the grand staircase to the upper floors, Aubrey fought to keep her breathing steady. So far, things hadn''t gone too badly, but she couldn''t afford to get distracted. If anyone found her snooping about, all bets were off.

    Reaching the upper hallway, Aubrey made her way to Julian''s private study, the heart of the manor where he conducted his most confidential affairs. The door was closed, as expected, but a quick twist of the handle revealed that the lock had not been engaged. With a faint click, the door swung open, revealing a darkened interior lit only by the fading sunlight streaming through the window.

    She closed the door behind her, listening as it latched shut, then turned to survey the room.

    The study was much smaller than expected. A large oak desk stood at one end, covered in stacks of papers, letters, and ledgers. Several leather chairs were arranged neatly in front of the desk, as well as a leather couch against one wall, all facing a large fireplace that dominated the opposite end. In the far corner, a bookshelf covered one wall from floor to ceiling.

    The room smelled faintly of tobacco smoke¡ªno doubt due to its owner''s fondness for cigars¡ªand the musty scent of old books.

    It felt strange to be inside here¡ªstanding where he once stood¡ªfeeling his presence around her. The office contained none of the lavish ornamentation displayed elsewhere throughout the rest of the home. Only bare walls, plain curtains, and a few generic paintings adorned the study.

    But this room belonged to Julian. That alone gave it a weight it didn''t have before, at least for her.

    Memories of her entering this study played back in her head¡ªtimes he had invited her for private talks and the times when he tried to feel her up or accosted her for his lustful needs. The pig thought she''d simply just allow him to do as he pleased simply because they were already past the point of being acquainted, and she hadn''t obliged.

    In his mind, she had only two functions. Either she could sing for him, entertain his guests, and be at his beck and call, or she could spread her legs and pleasure him. Nothing more and nothing less. He considered her the same as his personal belongings, even going so far as to tell her that he would be within his rights to share her with his friends or colleagues to see if she would also provide them such services.

    The recollection made her stomach churn in disgust. What was worse was the thought that she had harbored genuine feelings for this... bastard. A handsome face and the right words can turn people''s heads, but the eyes never lie, and in them, he''d revealed himself as the worm that he truly was.

    Well, he finally got his, and it brought a wicked smile to her lips at the memory.

    Aubrey went straight to the desk. It took only a cursory inspection of the papers, letters, and ledgers stacked on top of it to determine that it contained nothing useful, and after rifling through the drawers for several minutes, she found little more of interest¡ªonly official business correspondence, drafts for future projects, and the occasional journal entry detailing mundane affairs.

    After examining all the ledgers on the desk, she moved to the bookshelf next, taking stock of the volumes. It seemed he collected all types of literature ranging from political treatises to fantastical adventures to non-fiction history, the collection spanning a range of subjects. Several of the books bore notes in the margins or bookmarks placed between the pages.

    However, a closer examination of the spines revealed that many of the older books contained no titles¡ªjust simple engravings, whereas the more recent works bore printed labels. A quick search yielded nothing. It looked like there wasn''t much to go through.

    At least, not that she could tell from the study''s outward appearance. She considered Julian to be the type of man to have a hidden safe where he stored his secrets. Somewhere that a casual search wouldn''t reveal.

    With a shrug, Aubrey turned back to the bookshelf and began pulling each volume off one by one, setting them aside to search for a hidden compartment in the wood underneath. She felt around behind the shelves, probing for cracks or seams. Her fingers brushed across something smooth¡ªa button? ¡ªand she pressed it experimentally.

    A soft click echoed from the wall above her as part of the shelves swung outward.

    Her mouth spread into a delighted grin. A secret safe, as expected. Now she knew she''d found something important.

    Carefully, Aubrey pushed the shelf aside enough to reveal a narrow recess in the wall. A stack of leather-bound journals sat inside, tied together with a thick cord. She took one out, flipped it open, and found a collection of letters¡ªnot printed but handwritten.

    Julian,

    The schematics we''ve provided for the prototype Luminal Projector have some inaccuracies in them, as you''ve most likely noticed by now. A small modification will need to be done in order to make the device fully operational. Please see enclosed documents for further details and instructions. I''ve marked the locations of the ley lines within the Thornhaven district. Each crystal needs two months to gather the necessary arcane energy for activation. We also advise against placing them too close to the Obsidian Tower. The arcanists there will detect such fluctuations and interfere.

    ¡ª H.V.

    Ley lines? Thornhaven district? Guess that''s the next area she needs to visit after all this was done. She thumbed through the rest of the documents.

    Julian,

    Our recent experiments have yielded results beyond our initial projections. The preliminary tests conducted within The Luminous Consortium''s facilities have exceeded our expectations. The integration of arcane harmonics with industrial applications presents an unprecedented opportunity for control and influence on a mass scale. Your insight into leveraging Aubrey Sinclair''s unique vocal capabilities could be the linchpin in actualizing "Project Prometheus."

    The human voice carries within it a power untapped, a resonance that can alter the fabric of reality. Aubrey''s voice, in particular, possesses a purity and a range that defies scientific explanation. My initial analyses suggest that there is no physiological basis for these anomalous results; rather, I hypothesize that these attributes stem from a similar source that powers arcane scriptures and the aether used by Hunters and the Cogsworn Order.

    If we can replicate her vocal capabilities, the applications are limitless. However, we must proceed with caution. The volatility of the energies we are dealing with cannot be overstated. Our breakthroughs, while promising, tread a fine line between innovation and catastrophe.

    I await our next meeting with great anticipation.

    Yours in progress,

    ¡ª H.V.

    There were even some meeting notes scribbled with outlines for the plans discussed:

    Meeting Date: [Redacted]

    Attendees: J. Blackwell, H. Voss, [Names Redacted]

    Discussion Points:

    1. Observations of the subject''s (Aubrey) unique vocal abilities¡ªpotential applications in crowd control, interrogation, and warfare.

    2. H. Voss proposes an integrated approach, combining arcane harmonics with our latest sound amplification technology to capture and replicate the subject''s abilities.

    3. Concerns raised regarding the ethical implications and potential for backlash from both the public and rival factions.

    4. J. Blackwell dismisses ethical concerns; emphasizes the strategic advantage and necessity of harnessing such power for the Iron Circle and The Luminous Consortium''s goals.

    Action Items:

    * Initiate Phase 1 of Project Prometheus (codename for the Aubrey vocal replication initiative).

    * H. Voss to lead research team, given her expertise in acoustics and arcane harmonics.

    * Begin construction of prototype device for capturing and replicating vocal frequencies.

    Aubrey let out a low whistle as she skimmed through the papers.

    What''s "Project Prometheus," and what did it have to do with her?

    Julian had many dealings and most likely worked with a lot of people. From his confessions to her, she learned of his close ties with an organization called the Iron Circle¡ªa secret cabal of some sort, though she wasn''t sure what it consisted of. These "Iron Circle" people had invested heavily in her shows and gigs and backed the development of those Luminal Projectors, likely to sway the minds of the Mordenstradtian populace towards them... or worse.

    ''H.V.'' probably stood for Helena Voss, right? That made the most sense. It looked like she''d done research on Aubrey''s voice, and when Helena understood how powerful it was, she must have shared it with Julian¡ªwho knew what it would mean to gain influence over a large crowd. That power must''ve intrigued him so much that he kept pursuing her.

    The timeline of these events was still a bit murky in her mind. When did Julian start to view her as more than just another songstress to exploit? When did he discover just how unique and potent her voice actually was? How long had Helena been monitoring her for research? When did... that Aubrey realize her voice had such an effect?

    From the way things sounded, "Project Prometheus" hadn''t advanced much... yet. If they had settled on killing her because they knew there was a threat they couldn''t contain or control... did that mean this project never advanced further, or did Helena find a way to accomplish their goals without her?

    Aubrey frowned in consternation, mulling over the possibilities. No sense in pondering too deeply. She''d have to find answers as she continued her investigations. For now, it appeared that whatever they intended to do, it focused on using her voice somehow, and it hadn''t reached fruition yet.

    She gathered the remaining letters, stacked them neatly, and tucked them into a satchel lying on a sofa. Then, she rearranged the journals and returned them to their proper place. She glanced around the room, making sure there was no sign that she had tampered with anything, then shut the safe door and pressed the button to lock it closed.

    Satisfied that everything appeared as it had when she''d first entered the room, Aubrey headed for the door.

    As she was about to leave, a knock echoed from the door. She paused, eyes going wide.

    "Lord Blackwell, are you still in there?" came Mrs. Haversham''s voice from the other side. "Sir Morgan Greaves is with me and he insists that he needs to see you... urgently."

    Aubrey stifled a curse and leaned closer to listen, trying to remain quiet.

    "Mrs. Haversham, as I''ve told you, I do not want to be disturbed right now!" she whisper-yelled, pacing away from the door with anxious strides.

    Another voice¡ªpresumably Morgan Greaves¡ªanswered through the door. His voice had an abrasive rasp to it, like metal scraping against glass. "You''ve been gone for eight days, Julian. Eight. Days. That''s more than enough time for rumors to start. So, yes, I insist."

 Chapter 30: Liar Game

    Aubrey quickly did a check of the office and saw that nothing remained out of place. She surveyed her outfit, patting down any wrinkles, and checked the Facsimile Mask to see if it remained active.

    So far, everything held up.

    But now she had to contend with this... Greaves guy. Would he find her out? Could she fool him too?

    One way to find out...

    She gave her hair one more ruffle and strode towards the door with her hands in her pockets¡ªshoulders relaxed¡ªa scowl etched onto her features.

    Aubrey opened the door with a flourish of impatience, her eyes narrowing as they fell upon the two figures waiting outside. Mrs. Haversham, a worried look in her eyes, stood a respectful distance behind Greaves.

    Morgan Greaves was a thin, reedy man with gray hair and a craggy face that seemed to be made up of wrinkles and age spots. A suit hung loosely on his gaunt frame, and he wore an ornate cane under one arm. The way he carried himself reminded Aubrey of an overgrown vulture: all bony limbs and sharp angles.

    "Greaves," Aubrey acknowledged him with a nod, channeling Julian''s brusque tone. "This had better be worth my time."

    Morgan stepped into the room without waiting for an invitation, his eyes briefly scanning the surroundings before settling back on Aubrey. "Don''t get ahead of yourself. I''m the one with questions," he said as he crossed over to a chair and sat down, crossing one leg over the other. "I suggest you take a seat before we start talking."

    He gestured to the chairs in front of him, a toothy smile appearing on his face. "Make yourself comfortable."

    Aubrey felt the man''s piercing stare roam over her for a second¡ªmuch like how Julian usually surveyed her body¡ªbut the look held a different quality. She couldn''t quite identify what it was, but it made her feel... vulnerable. Exposed.

    "My apologies, sir," Mrs. Haversham piped up as she entered the room carrying a tray with refreshments and snacks and set it on the table before hastily departing the study.

    The door closed with a soft click.

    Aubrey strolled over and sat across from Morgan, forcing a thin smile and locking her gaze with his.

    Morgan wasted no time and, after pouring himself a cup of tea, launched into an inquisition.

    "Julian," he began, his tone laced with a skepticism that grated on Aubrey''s nerves. "Your absence has stirred more than just rumors. The incident at the music hall, the guards... your sudden disappearance. You flee from your own venue, and not a word until now. Care to explain?"

    Morgan held her stare with his beady black eyes, looking at her as if he could somehow see right through the disguise. His shrewd gaze never wavered as he waited for her reply, as though expecting her to flinch first.

    Aubrey took a second to arrange her thoughts. How much information should she divulge? This man obviously worked with Julian or The Iron Circle; maybe even both. She didn''t know how involved he was with their plans, so she would have to be careful with how much information to reveal.

    Too many uncertainties.

    Better to err on the side of caution...

    Aubrey sat back in her chair and regarded Greaves coolly.

    "It''s a long story," she said at last. "But it started with an Unhallowed infiltrating the venue and masquerading as Lucille, that''s for sure. But how the Unhallowed bypassed security to enter is still beyond me. So, I did what any would do in that circumstance¡ªI fled and hoped a Hunter or the Cogsworn Order could deal with it."

    Morgan snorted and took a sip from his cup of tea, his wrinkled fingers clasping the handle carefully. "An Unhallowed attacking your show, leaving witnesses and a trail of confusion in its wake... Sounds rather unorthodox for those wretched creatures."

    He looked up again, his dark eyes gleaming with an odd mixture of contempt and amusement. "Lucille was found unconscious in her dressing room. Detectives questioned her after the incident."

    Morgan leaned forward, steepling his fingers under his chin, his eyes narrowing to slits. "Curiously, she revealed that a woman, bearing an uncanny resemblance to the late Aubrey Sinclaire, had put her in that state. She also mentioned that this look-alike had black hair instead of red. A wild claim, if I ever heard of one.

    "So, an Unhallowed in the music hall, a look-alike woman sporting Aubrey''s visage stirring up chaos, killing guards. Quite the spectacle, Julian. And yet, here you stand, unscathed."

    The insinuation hung between them like a blade dangling precariously on a string. Aubrey fought to keep her expression impassive, aware that any slip could unravel her carefully constructed facade.

    Morgan went on, his voice deceptively low. "Don''t play me for a fool, Julian. I''m no one''s lackey or gullible simpleton. There''s something else at play here."

    Aubrey suppressed the urge to sigh. Well, two could play this game of his, so she mustered every ounce of contempt into her own voice and responded with the most curt, rude, and brusque delivery she could manage, channeling her previous dealings with the insufferable man.

    "Believe whatever you want. That Unhallowed infiltrated as Lucille, then massacred the guards and put me on the run," she said, injecting just the right amount of frustration into her tone. "The sight of Aubrey''s face had me spooked¡ªunderstandably so, as you should be aware given the... history between her and me."

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    If the pause sounded slightly forced, she hoped it went unnoticed.

    Morgan seemed to consider this, his face twisting into a grimace. After a moment, he shook his head in apparent disbelief.

    "Interesting that an Unhallowed would be so bold and adept to pose as someone with ties to you," Morgan said with a mock-pensive hum, looking out the window in a fake contemplation. "Of course, this raises a plethora of other questions about security that we don''t have the luxury to address at the moment, given the circumstances of... Project Prometheus and all."

    Aubrey fought the urge to wince at his words.

    This guy... was also involved.

    "Let me guess," Aubrey ventured with a small sigh, channeling Julian''s patronizing tone to a T. "You wish to report your suspicions that the ''Aubrey-doppelganger'' that caused a ruckus during that night is the same woman whom we''ve all thought dead? I assure you, I was there for all of it, Morgan. Aubrey is dead. The doppelganger that attacked and imprisoned me was some sort of Unhallowed that mimicked her visage to bedevil and corner me."

    "And how are you so sure about that?" Morgan interjected, leaning back against his chair again with his hands steepled in front of him.

    "The Hunter who managed to kill it and rescue me told me," Aubrey lied, trying her best to come up with a believable excuse. "He said it was a mimic-type born from the corrupted soul of a former worker of mine who I... laid with and discarded."

    Morgan gave an indelicate snort in response. "You and your depraved tastes, Julian, never fails to raise a brow or two."

    "Wasn''t aware that you found my affairs to be any of your business," Aubrey sneered.

    Ugh... yuck! Just uttering the words left a nasty taste in her mouth, but she did so with aplomb and a crude sneer. She''d have to cleanse herself thoroughly after this...

    The silence stretched on between them as they sat there staring each other down like two prized roosters in a cockfight. After an uncomfortably long moment, Morgan chuckled softly, breaking the standoff.

    "Very well then." He set his empty cup on the tray and stood up. "It''s good to see that you''ve managed to extricate yourself from this mess. So what of the Hunter who rescued you? Can you provide his name?"

    "I killed him shortly after his bout with the Unhallowed," Aubrey said with a cold smile, standing to accompany him, subtly placing herself in between the exit and him.

    "Killed him? A Hunter?" Morgan''s eyebrows rose up in surprise.

    Aubrey shrugged nonchalantly. "He was near death''s door after fighting off that abomination. All I did was lend a helping hand and mercy-killed the poor sod. Loose ends and all that."

    Morgan paused momentarily before nodding slowly, appearing to accept her story without further prodding.

    "I see... Well, that simplifies matters for us. Better not leave any trail of suspicion from here on out." He glanced over his shoulder as he headed for the door, his expression thoughtful.

    "As long as we''re clear, then." Aubrey dipped her head to him as he passed, her smile still intact. "Thank you for checking in, Greaves."

    "Hmph," he snorted again, pausing in the doorway. "Enjoy your reprieve while it lasts, Julian. I expect Project Prometheus to run smoothly without further hitches."

    He turned to walk away without another word. Aubrey watched as he disappeared around the corner, closing the door behind him. A few seconds later, she heard his footsteps retreat down the hallway.

    Aubrey slumped against her seat, feeling drained by the exchange.

    That... could''ve gone better... and worse, all at the same time. At least Morgan hadn''t become outright aggressive during the interrogation¡ªat least not directly¡ªbut she could sense that his suspicions remained intact.

    How much had he already investigated or already known? The man, though old, held himself with confidence and sharpness, no doubt well-versed in all manners of schemes and plotting. That cagey old coot... She could just imagine him keeping an eye on everything¡ªholding a thin stack of all the cards¡ªonly letting information flow when it pleased him.

    Maybe she should have just killed him while he was right in front of her and spared herself from dealing with his interrogation and suspicion. But she got caught up in the moment, trying to be a clever little fox instead of just going in for the kill. What would have been the downside to killing him anyway? People would have assumed that Julian killed Morgan and then vanished shortly after coming back from his disappearance.

    Ah, shit! That would''ve been the best way to cover her tracks and further cement her ruse! Aubrey had gotten greedy! Well, what''s done was done. All she could do now was to move forward with caution.

    If Morgan had looked like some handsome, fox-eyed, silver-tongued man who usually played the role of a cunning and shrewd swindler or scheming trickster, she would have murdered him before he could utter a single syllable.

    Damn, I fucking hate those types!

    Morgan reminded her of an old-man version of that trope, so her instinct to kill him on the spot was slow to come.

    Next time... she''d murder him immediately and call it a day.

    No second guesses. No regrets. Just. Get. The. Kill.

    For now, though, she had some loose ends to tie up. She needed a way for "Julian" to conveniently go into seclusion without giving those around him any reason to pursue further investigation. There could still be good opportunities to uncover more about that Project Prometheus plan in the future so having the option to masquerade as Julian remained something to consider.

    If only she had a way for someone else to pose as him in the meantime while she carried on with her hunt for her killers. Maybe she could befriend a mimic-type Unhallowed to assist her as a meat-shield and get Julian''s affairs in order for her? Did those things even exist?

    Ugh... What a headache this whole scheme''s turning out to be.

    Aubrey cleaned up her surroundings to make it as orderly as when she had first entered the place and took one last look around before slipping out of the office.

    When she passed by Joseph and Mrs. Haversham on the way out of the estate, she feigned a nonchalant stride, knowing that it''d keep the two busybodies from following her and further hindering her.

    "I''m going on a vacation to unwind. Should be gone for a few weeks," Aubrey told Joseph, waving to him as she pushed through the door.

    "Um..." Joseph began, a worried expression on his face.

    "I need a vacation and some peace of mind after that damned attack at the show and a rather inconvenient incident following after it, Joseph," she said, turning back and speaking to the man in a sharp tone. "As such, ensure that all of my meetings and obligations are cancelled, and ensure that anyone who comes in asking for me know that I''m away and in good health. Should any issue arise, have them attend to you to work through it, then I will handle it once I come back from my little trip."

    "But what about Missus?" Mrs. Haversham chimed in, joining their conversation. "Will you at least send for her to know that you''ll be gone?"

    Julian was married? She had no recollection of that fact. Maybe he had kept it from her all this time? Who the fuck would marry this sleazebag?

    Aubrey maintained a cool facade, waving a dismissive hand in their general direction. "It''ll be a few weeks at most, Mrs. Haversham. I''m certain she can take care of herself. Just send the usual monthly allowance her way, and toss in some fancy gifts too, to let her know of my continued health and absence."

    The two of them blinked owlishly at her, too stunned to protest any further.

    With another quick wave, she headed towards the manor''s front gates, whistling an off-tune melody as she walked away.

 Chapter 31: Thornhaven

    Aubrey stepped into the Thornhaven district as morning mist curled around the cobbled streets like ancient spirits waking to the intrusion of light. The sun, a pale scribe hesitant to inscribe its full glory upon the day, filtered through a weave of fog and the smoke rising from quaint chimneys.

    It had taken nearly an hour of travel in a steam coach departing from the station at the Ironworks district. Now she strode with an excited bounce in her step down the broad avenue that served as the district''s main thoroughfare, feeling invigorated by the prospect of what secrets lay ahead.

    This district sat closer to the outskirts of Mordenstradt''s walled limits, west of the Ironworks district and adjacent to the Voxhall Ward. Whereas the Ironworks'' name fits its description well, Thornhaven''s name made the area seem like an extension of some remote, hidden corner of a forest, isolated from civilization.

    But it was anything but that.

    The air here felt different¡ªthicker, colder, more cloying¡ªas though some invisible miasma clung to every surface.

    The architecture was a jarring contrast to the urban aesthetic of Voxhall and the Ironworks. Instead of clean, polished granite and iron, the buildings bore rough, weathered stone covered with cracks and vines, looking more akin to abandoned ruins than ordinary homes. Rooftops peaked at odd angles, often at sharp inclines, giving them a jagged, pointed look.

    Many houses had an overgrown garden in front. Unruly plant growth sprawled unchecked everywhere, weaving through fences and clinging to walls with gnarled claws, obscuring every window. The smell of damp earth filled her nostrils.

    Ornate wrought-iron lamp posts lined the street every ten meters, illuminating the mist and creating pockets of warmth and light in the encroaching fog.

    Narrow alleys branched off the main thoroughfare, winding in random directions and disappearing into shadows. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to how the buildings had been erected, as though placed by a mad architect on a drunken whim.

    Not even the streets followed a straight path. Instead, they twisted and turned like the scripture of some demented linguist. There wasn''t even any signage to help orient someone new to this maze-like layout.

    How does anyone know where to go here? This place made her mind go all tilty!

    Something felt distinctly off about this place.

    Even with its proximity to the more developed and wealthy districts, this part of the city had an air of desolation and abandonment, as though it existed on an entirely different plane¡ªnot like the impoverished corners of Gallows Row where those forced to survive on scraps eked out a living in run-down tenements and ramshackle structures, but like the preserved remains of some old civilization that got left behind.

    Few people occupied the streets, with those who did minding their own business. Occasionally, one might catch her eye as she strode through the winding alleyways, but for the most part, nobody paid her much attention.

    Every building¡ªas far as she could see¡ªboasted a heavy, shuttered window covered with thick metal bars, and the ones without shutters or windows possessed locked iron doors that refused access.

    No sightings of any constables¡ªthough given the way the entire area felt like it wasn''t quite attached to the rest of the city, maybe no guards were required to keep the peace here.

    Where to start?

    The note she''d taken from Julian''s safe¡ªstowed safely in her satchel¡ªsaid to head towards the Obsidian Tower in this district. Shouldn''t be too difficult, right?

    <hr>

    Aubrey walked for what seemed like hours through streets and alleyways, winding her way deeper into Thornhaven. She kept to herself, not bothering to strike up any conversation with the few people she encountered. Many of them gave her strange looks, but no one spoke to her directly.

    She could feel their eyes tracking her movements as she passed by.

    Every time she turned a corner, expecting to see something new, she''d instead find herself faced with more identical-looking structures, lined up like bricks in a wall. It felt like she was going around in circles, despite having never taken a single step in a particular direction.

    Finally, she decided to stop and ask someone for directions.

    "Excuse me, ma''am," Aubrey began politely, approaching an elderly woman sitting on a bench outside of a cafe. "Can you tell me where the Obsidian Tower is?"

    The woman looked up at her with tired eyes, frowning slightly as she processed Aubrey''s question. She took a long drag from her pipe and exhaled a cloud of fragrant smoke before answering.

    "You''ll find it at the heart of the district, dear," the woman replied with a wry smile. "Just follow the main avenue until you reach its gates."

    She left the main avenue a long while ago. The problem was that she couldn''t seem to find her way back to it. And with all these nonsensical twists and turns, who knows how far she''d walked off course?

    "I''ve lost my way a bit. Would you mind directing me?" Aubrey asked, returning the woman''s smile.

    "Hm, well..." The woman looked thoughtful for a moment before gesturing with her pipe in one direction. "Continue along this street here, then take a left at the crossroads. Once you reach the fountain, make another left and keep going straight until you reach the main avenue. Can''t miss it."

    Aubrey gave her a grateful nod and set off in the direction she''d indicated. Hopefully, she wouldn''t end up even more lost than before.

    As she walked, she found herself momentarily waylaid by the sound of distant, haunting music. It drifted through the fog, coming from somewhere nearby. Aubrey paused to listen for a moment, trying to discern its source. The melody sounded strange and alien, yet somehow familiar.

    Curiosity drew her toward the source¡ªa narrow plaza hemmed in by towering edifices cloaked in ivy and moss. In the center of this cobblestone court, a small crowd had gathered, their bodies cloaked in the heavy garb of Mordenstradt citizens, with muted, drab colors and modest cuts.

    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    Aubrey slipped into the assembly, trying to get closer to see what held their attention.

    The performance that unfolded before her was like none she had ever witnessed. At the heart of it was a figure clad entirely in flowing, dark fabric, their face obscured by a mask that seemed to shimmer with an ethereal light. Around them, smaller figures moved, draped in similarly dark veils, each adorned with glinting bits of what looked like broken mirrors and shards of stained glass.

    The central figure began to dance, movements fluid and strangely disjointed, as if they were under the command of the eerie, lilting music that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. The melody was performed by an unseen choir, their instruments producing sounds that were not quite musical but not quite noise¡ªwhistles that mimicked the wind, strings that sounded like rain, and percussion that mimicked the crackle of fire.

    As the dance progressed, the figures around the central dancer mirrored their movements but with subtle delays, creating a visual echo that disoriented the eye. The shards of glass and mirror sewn into their costumes caught the dim light, casting reflections on the faces of the crowd and the walls of the surrounding buildings, turning the entire plaza into a shifting kaleidoscope of light and shadow.

    Aubrey watched, transfixed, unable to tear her gaze away. The strange, disorienting dance seemed to call to her, pulling her into its hypnotic embrace. She swayed along with the music, lost in its eerie beauty.

    The performance ended all too soon, the dancers disappearing into the mist as abruptly as they''d appeared. The crowd slowly dispersed, murmuring among themselves as they left the plaza. Aubrey remained behind, lingering at the edge of the empty space, reluctant to break the spell that had fallen over her.

    After a few moments, she tore herself away and continued on her path, following the old woman''s directions.

    <hr>

    The academic sector of Thornhaven unfolded before her. Past a wide stone bridge arching over a flowing river, Aubrey saw an expanse of square buildings surrounded by carefully tended gardens and patches of wild forest. They were unlike any structures she''d seen in Mordenstradt; enormous stone constructs of interlocking pieces with numerous high windows¡ªtheir gray fa?ades framed by lattices of vines.

    While most of the edifices appeared to be empty, with many of their windows darkened or boarded up, some still stood open, light pouring out from within. Aubrey spotted a few people walking in and out of the buildings'' massive doors, which looked large enough to allow entry by carriage.

    Aubrey kept walking through the neighborhood, taking in the sight of the strange architecture and lush greenery. This place felt like a university or research campus¡ªat least, what she''d envisioned those places would look like. She even saw signs marking various buildings as libraries and laboratories.

    She spotted a single, more elaborate tower-like structure rising from the center of the grounds.

    This was likely the Obsidian Tower mentioned in the notes. The tower loomed above all others, its onyx spire piercing the foggy sky like a black blade. A sprawling complex of classrooms and dormitories surrounded the main tower, its grounds blanketed in fallen leaves and cobblestones. Aubrey could see students¡ªor maybe they were teachers?¡ªin uniforms bustling between buildings, engaged in various activities.

    As she approached the gates leading to the tower, she noticed several guards standing watch over the entrance. They wore white robes trimmed with gold, their faces concealed by ornate masks adorned with intricate carvings. Their gloved hands rested on the pommels of long swords belted at their hips.

    Aubrey veered away from the main gate, deciding it best not to attempt entry just yet. They probably had some way of detecting Unhallowed beings that might alert them to her presence. Just getting to know the lay of the land for now should suffice.

    With one last look at the Obsidian Tower, Aubrey turned and made her way back through the academic grounds, slipping back into the dense, winding streets of Thornhaven.

    <hr>

    Aubrey retraced her steps, finding herself once again in the city''s main thoroughfare. The evening sun painted the sky with deep shades of orange and crimson as night began to fall over the district. Streetlamps flickered to life, casting pools of warm light along the sidewalks. A chill wind blew through the street, sending leaves skittering across the cobblestones.

    She pulled her coat tighter around her shoulders, shivering slightly. As she continued walking, she noticed a few of the locals had retreated indoors, perhaps to seek refuge from the cold. The streets became even more deserted than before, with only a handful of people braving the fading light.

    Aubrey hurried along towards the station, hoping to catch the last steam coach that would take her back to the Ironworks station. But as she neared the edge of Thornhaven, an unexpected tableau unfolded before her.

    Amidst the tendrils of twilight mist, two figures stood, casting long shadows against the flickering gas lamps. Their presence prickled at her senses, and her instincts screamed caution, yet curiosity drew her closer.

    The taller of the two, a figure shrouded in an intricate cloak, seemed to converse softly with his companion, a lithe form dressed in a bodice of dark leather and a skirt that melded with the murk of the fading day.

    The man''s hands moved with deliberate grace, manipulating what appeared to be thin strips of paper etched with inscrutable symbols¡ªofuda, perhaps. The woman, meanwhile, adjusted the grip on her crossbow, her posture alert as she scanned the surrounding streets.

    As Aubrey drew nearer, she could make out their words.

    "You''re certain the trail leads here?" the man asked, his voice carrying an unfamiliar accent.

    "Yes, I''m sure of it," the woman replied, her tone confident and firm. "The rift has opened in this district, though I can''t tell where just yet."

    The man¡ªthough now that Aubrey had a better view, he appeared more around her age¡ªwas a vivid portrayal of scholarly dishevelment, his dark hair tousled as if he had recently run his fingers through it in deep thought. His cloak, though worn, was decorated with talismanic sigils that shimmered faintly. A black shirt and gray trousers sat under the cloak, while a red tie held his collar closed. The cuffs of his sleeves were undone, revealing a pale forearm adorned with an onyx bracelet.

    He carried a cane, but the way he held it suggested he didn''t need it for walking. Perhaps it held a secret weapon within?

    His companion, on the other hand, looked a little younger than him, though her countenance was sharp and focused, with keen green eyes that reminded Aubrey of a cat''s. A cascade of auburn curls framed her face, and her skin was dusted with light freckles. She wore a bodice of leather armor that appeared to have been mended many times, and her skirt fluttered in the wind, revealing black tights and sturdy boots.

    Around her waist, vials and pouches filled with various trinkets hung from a belt, clinking softly with each poised step she took. The crossbow she carried seemed like it had seen plenty of action, though its intricate design suggested it was more than just a basic hunting tool.

    "The sooner we find this breach, the better," the man muttered. "These things tend to escalate quickly if left unchecked."

    "We''ll track it down, Levy," the young woman assured him. "It won''t get away from us this time."

    "I hope you''re right, Seraphine." He sighed and shook his head. "If it has anything to do with what happened at that concert last week..."

    Aubrey''s ears perked up at the mention of her performance. Were they referring to her?!

    Aubrey approached them cautiously, trying to skirt around them so as not to attract too much attention. As she moved past, however, the woman¡ªSeraphine¡ªturned her gaze, locking eyes with Aubrey.

    The young woman''s emerald irises gleamed in the dim light, filled with a mixture of wariness and curiosity. Her features softened slightly, and a hint of a smile touched her lips.

    "Good evening," Seraphine said, giving Aubrey a slight nod.

    "Evening," Aubrey replied, her tone guarded.

    She kept walking, but the woman''s voice stopped her in her tracks.

    "Levy, my bracelet is reacting... There''s an Unhallowed nearby."

    "Where?" Levy asked, looking around. His hand gripped his cane tightly, his posture suddenly alert.

    Seraphine turned back towards Aubrey, her eyes narrowing. "There..."

 Chapter 32: The Murmuros

    Aubrey tensed, unsure of how to react. Her first instinct was to run, but she knew that would only draw more suspicion.

    Fuck! Did they already know who¡ªor rather, what¡ªshe was? Did the girl have the same kind of bracelet as the herb shop crone?

    As she stood frozen in place, trying to decide on a course of action, the air thickened with an unnatural chill, raising goosebumps on her skin. An oppressive, ominous silence descended upon them as the world grew eerily still. Even the wind died down, leaving only the flickering of gas lamps and the creaking of aging signboards.

    The auburn-haired girl''s crossbow was pointed at her in an instant, loaded with a glowing bolt that seemed to hum with arcane power. Her companion, Levy, gripped his cane tightly, shifting into a defensive stance.

    "Get down!" Seraphine commanded commanded, her gaze fixed not on Aubrey but somewhere behind her.

    Aubrey turned her head just in time to see the air behind her ripple and twist. Out of the gathering fog materialized a spectral leviathan. Its immense body resembled a baleen whale, though its fins were oddly elongated and twisted, its hide covered in iridescent rules that swirled and shifted, and its eyes shone with an unearthly glow.

    As it emerged fully, the street lamps'' light flickered and waned, as if the creature''s presence drew energy from them.

    With a deep, resonating sound that vibrated through the air like the whispers of the damned, the creature opened its maw, revealing an abyssal void that seemed to swallow all light.

    What the f¡ª

    She barely had time to react before Seraphine grabbed her and pulled her out of the way. The creature''s body slammed into the ground where Aubrey had stood mere seconds before, cracking the cobblestones and sending a tremor through the street.

    The creature''s void-like maw snapped shut, just missing Aubrey by a hair''s breadth. The wind generated by its movement nearly knocked her off her feet.

    Seraphine released her grip on Aubrey and fired her crossbow at the entity. Her bolt struck true, embedding itself deep into the creature''s side.

    Aubrey watched in awe as the creature recoiled, its ethereal form rippling and pulsing. It let out a sound that made her teeth ache, like the shrill whine of feedback amplified a thousand times.

    "That thing''s dangerous! Get out of here!" Seraphine warned as she reloaded her crossbow. "We''ll handle it."

    Before Aubrey could reply, the creature surged forward, its massive bulk barreling towards her. She threw herself to the side, barely dodging out of the way. As she scrambled back to her feet, she saw Levy hurl a handful of what looked like thin strips of paper at the creature, each one exploding in a burst of bright light and crackling energy.

    The creature writhed in pain, its distorted body rippling and pulsing with every blast.

    Meanwhile, Seraphine took aim once more and fired another bolt, this time striking the creature directly in its void-like mouth. The air around the bolt shimmered and warped as it pierced through the entity''s spectral form, leaving a trail of twisted space in its wake.

    Levy continued to bombard the creature with a flurry of talismanic papers, each one detonating in a brilliant explosion of light and energy. Seraphine unleashed a barrage of bolts from her crossbow, the arcane bolts slicing through the creature''s translucent hide.

    Aubrey took cover in a nearby alley, watching the battle unfold.

    Holy shit!

    These two clearly knew what they were doing. Were they part of the Cogsworn Order? Perhaps some other guild or organization tasked with dealing with this sort of thing? She wasn''t sure.

    Maybe she should stick around for a bit... Just to make sure they were going to win this fight. Plus, it was good to see what she was up against if they ever had to face each other.

    "Levy! Incoming!" Seraphine shouted as the creature''s maw opened wide once more.

    This time, a vortex of dark energy erupted from its gullet, blasting out in all directions like an eldritch hurricane. Levy barely managed to shield himself with a hastily-thrown barrier of talismanic papers before the shockwave hit him.

    The force of the blast sent him flying through the air, his body tumbling end over end until he crashed into a wall and crumpled to the ground in a heap.

    Meanwhile, Seraphine remained undaunted, nimbly evading the vortex with fluid, dancer-like steps. As she weaved around the eldritch gale, she fired another volley of bolts into the creature''s side. Her attacks left ripples in the air that expanded outward in concentric rings, disrupting the vortex''s chaotic pattern.

    Seeing her companion fall, she called out, "Levy! Are you alright?"

    "I''m fine!" Levy yelled back as he struggled to his feet. "Just keep it busy!"

    Seraphine nodded, then turned her attention back to the creature.

    Aubrey watched as the young woman danced around the entity''s attacks, dodging and weaving with a grace and skill that rivaled any stage performance Aubrey had ever seen.

    The way Seraphine moved¡ªevery step, every twirl¡ªwas like watching a choreographed dance, yet her movements never faltered or slowed. It was almost hypnotic to watch. Aubrey couldn''t help but admire her fighting style, despite the danger.

    A tap on her shoulder made her nearly jump out of her skin.

    She whirled around and braced herself, expecting another foe. Instead, she found herself facing Cedric, whose usual stony countenance looked a bit more perturbed than usual.

    "You''re late for our band practice, Milady," he stated flatly.

    Band practice? Oh shit! She had forgotten all about it! She thought it was supposed to be tomorrow.

    "I...uh..." She fumbled for words. "Got sidetracked sightseeing. Then there''s this thing..."

    Cedric nodded towards the battle going on behind her. "Indeed, I can see that."

    Aubrey turned back towards the fight just in time to see Seraphine leap into the air, somersaulting gracefully before landing atop the creature''s back. She clambered up its side, clinging to its irregular, pulsating form with one hand while unsheathing an ornate dagger with the other.

    She plunged the blade into the creature''s hide, carving a deep gash that emitted a shower of sparks and wisps of dark energy.

    The entity thrashed and writhed in the air, bucking like a wild stallion as it tried to dislodge her. She held on tenaciously, her blade carving another gash, then another.

    "Hey, Cedric... do you know what that big thing is?" Aubrey asked quietly.

    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

    Cedric rubbed his chin in thought, peering at the spectral leviathan. "Hmmm... Looks like a Murmuros to me."

    "A Murmuros? What''s that?" Aubrey wasn''t familiar with that term, despite her extensive knowledge of monsters from her gaming days.

    "A spiritual whale that inhabits the between-worlds of the murky astral realm," Cedric explained, continuing to study the entity with keen interest. "They''re said to be ancient beings, remnants of forgotten worlds that ended long before the coming of humanity. Their appearance usually indicates the opening of a rift into the astral realm, or possibly even an incursion from beyond our reality."

    "Is that... bad?" Aubrey asked hesitantly, not sure if she wanted to hear the answer.

    Cedric shrugged. "That depends on how well those two Hunters can handle it. One Murmuros isn''t too dangerous, but if a whole pod gets through, it could cause quite a bit of trouble."

    "A pod?" Aubrey didn''t like the sound of that.

    "A group of them, yes," Cedric confirmed. "I''m not sensing any more nearby, so this one must be alone. That''s good news, at least. If there''s only one, destroying it should seal the rift it came through."

    "Does it eat humans?" Aubrey asked.

    "Murmuros aren''t physical beings, so they can''t actually eat anything," Cedric replied. "They feed on the sanity of their victims, driving them to madness with their whispers. I suppose you could say they''re akin to psychic vampires¡ªsuch as yourself."

    She had something in common with this eldritch monstrosity? Well, if they were both classified as Unhallowed, she guessed it made sense... But still!

    "Back to why I came to find you, our rehearsal awaits, Milady," Cedric reminded her.

    Right. The band practice. But this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to witness two Hunters in action. Not that she couldn''t take these two out easily herself, but... Well, at least that''s what she''d thought before seeing them fight. Now, she wasn''t so sure.

    "Postpone it for me? I think I''ll stick around and see how this plays out," Aubrey said, her gaze still fixed on the battle.

    Cedric nodded. "As you wish, Milady. I''ll stick by your side, just in case. No matter which side wins this fight, the aftermath might not be something you want to face alone."

    Aubrey gave him a sideways glance. "Do you know who these people are?"

    "No, but they seem quite skilled at what they do," Cedric replied. "Thaddeus would know more, but I recall that he mentioned several guilds and organizations in Mordenstradt that handle these sorts of problems. The Arcane Collegium, Inter Astra Requiem, and The Order of the Viridian Cross, to name a few."

    "Well, those names aren''t telling me much," Aubrey grumbled.

    "Would you like me to ask Thaddeus about them later?" Cedric offered.

    Aubrey nodded. "Yes, please do that. It could be useful."

    The battle between the two Hunters and the Murmuros raged on, neither side giving ground.

    Seraphine leapt nimbly from its back, rolling to her feet as she landed. She sheathed her dagger and reloaded her crossbow in one smooth motion.

    "Levy! There''s a weak point in its mouth! We need to pierce it!" Seraphine called out.

    "I''ll try to create an opening for you!" Levy had recovered his footing and resumed hurling talismanic papers at the entity, each explosion disrupting its shimmering hide.

    Seraphine gave him a nod and took aim, waiting for her chance to strike.

    The Murmuros thrashed in the air, lashing out with its fins and tail, each strike leaving a trail of dark energy in its wake. It slammed into the side of a building, shattering brick and mortar.

    "Come on! You can do it!" Aubrey cheered them on silently.

    The runes on the Murmuros'' body glowed brighter¡ªa sign it was about to retaliate.

    Seraphine didn''t hesitate; she rolled to the side as a wave of dark energy blasted through where she had stood moments earlier. Levy followed suit, evading the attack with a nimble leap.

    Levy''s next volley of talismanic papers found their mark, attaching themselves to the entity''s body. With a whispered incantation, he activated the spell embedded within.

    A beam of light erupted from the talismans, linking each one to form a brilliant latticework of energy that enveloped the Murmuros. The creature writhed and thrashed in the air, but the beams held it in place, restraining its movements.

    "Now!" Levy shouted.

    From her new vantage point, Seraphine rummaged through her belt, her fingers finding a vial filled with a phosphorescent liquid. With a quick motion, she pulled the cork out with her teeth, spat it aside, and poured the contents down her crossbow''s firing mechanism.

    The luminous liquid coated the bolt, causing it to glow brightly as she raised her weapon. Taking careful aim, she squeezed the trigger. The bolt arced through the air, its trail leaving a glowing streak in its wake. It struck the creature''s maw dead-center, sinking into the void-like space between its jaws.

    As soon as the bolt made contact, an explosion of light and energy erupted from within the Murmuros, its translucent form erupting in a shower of sparks and shimmering motes of light.

    The entity let out one final, ear-splitting shriek before dissolving into nothingness, leaving behind only an echo that reverberated through the night air.

    Seraphine collapsed to her knees, panting heavily as she struggled to catch her breath. Levy slumped against the wall of a nearby building, looking equally exhausted.

    Aubrey was impressed. These two really knew their stuff! Maybe she could learn a thing or two from them. Not that she''d ever need it, of course... She had her voice, and her powers should suffice for any threat that arose.

    Still, it never hurt to have more options, right?

    She debated whether to approach them. As she was trying to decide, Cedric put a hand on her shoulder. "Shall I eliminate them while they''re fatigued? I could do so without a struggle."

    "What? No!" Aubrey hissed, swatting his hand away. "They just fought a freaking ghost whale! Let''s give them a break before you start anything. Besides, they''re the good guys. They were hunting that thing, not me."

    Cedric raised a stony brow. "Are you sure?"

    Aubrey thought about it for a moment.

    If a Hunter''s goal was to eliminate Unhallowed beings like herself, would these two hesitate to kill her on sight? Maybe... Maybe not. She had no idea how common Banshees were in this world.

    Perhaps they hunted all Unhallowed. Perhaps just the most dangerous ones. Or perhaps they had different priorities and killed only those who harmed people or posed a threat to the city.

    There was no way to know for sure, but she didn''t want to find out the hard way. At least not yet. Not while she still had a chance to learn more about them.

    "I''m sure," Aubrey said. "And I''d rather we avoid confrontation for now. I don''t want to give them a reason to start hunting me. That would complicate things."

    Cedric frowned, clearly unhappy with her decision. "Very well, Milady. It''s your call. However, if they threaten you in any way, I will not hesitate to defend you."

    Aubrey looked back to where the two Hunters stood. They seemed to be regaining their strength, straightening up and resuming their conversation. "I''ll keep that in mind, Cedric. Thanks."

    "Shall we make our exit then?" Cedric suggested.

    Aubrey considered it.

    If they left now, there was a chance the Hunters wouldn''t even notice her presence. They could sneak away, and no one would be the wiser. It would probably be safer that way. Safer for both sides...

    On the other hand, she''d gotten to witness a truly epic fight! Two monster hunters taking on an eldritch horror... How cool was that?

    "We''ll wait a little longer," Aubrey decided. "Just until they leave."

    The two Hunters conversed amongst themselves, discussing the outcome of their battle. From what Aubrey could make out, they seemed pleased with the results, and their conversation eventually turned to what they should do next.

    "I think we''ve done enough for one night," Levy said, glancing around at the destruction caused by the battle. "There''s bound to be some paperwork involved with this mess, too. Let''s head back to our respective guild and report our findings."

    Seraphine sighed, giving the remnants of their battleground a weary look. "Yeah, I suppose so. Hmm... I don''t see that woman who was here earlier, though. Do you think she made it out okay?"

    Levy scanned the area, then shrugged. "I''m sure she''s fine. She probably left while we were occupied with the Murmuros. People tend to do that when they see us fighting."

    "Well, if you say so..." Seraphine replied, still sounding unconvinced.

    Aubrey caught herself before she gave a light chuckle.

    Damn, this woman sounded like such a good person! Worried about the safety of a stranger? That was adorable.

    Seraphine brushed a stray lock of chestnut hair from her face and turned to leave. "Let''s get going then. I''m exhausted."

    As the two Hunters headed off, Aubrey watched them go, wondering if she''d ever have a chance to talk to them. Would they get along? Would they become friends? Or would they end up as enemies?

    Enemies... She hoped it wouldn''t come to that...

    The only ones she wanted as enemies were those who had wronged her. She didn''t want to add any more names to that list unless she absolutely had to.

    But for now, she''d wait and see how things played out. She had plenty of time to figure out what kind of people they really were¡ªand what they might mean for her future.

    "If we''re done here, I''ll take you to the Cathedral so we can rehearse for our performance," Cedric said.

    Aubrey glanced at him, then nodded. "Sure. I''ve seen enough for now. Let''s go."

 Chapter 33: Emerald Huntress

    Morning light crept across the lush tapestry of Seraphine Elmswood''s chamber like a shy visitor, hesitating at the foot of her grand four-poster bed before daring to climb the hills and valleys of its quilted expanse. She lay amidst the folds of her silken nightgown and bedding, her wild auburn curls haloing her delicate features in a verdant frame.

    The faint scent of jasmine lingered in the air, carried by the wafting breeze from her open window. The aroma invited the gentle kiss of morning to awaken her senses, the warmth of sunlight upon her skin and the distant melody of songbirds drifting into her dreams.

    Slowly, Seraphine opened her eyes, blinking away the vestiges of slumber as she gazed at the ceiling above her. She watched the muted light play across its intricately carved surface, tracing the familiar contours with her gaze as she collected her thoughts.

    It had been another busy night for her, with little time for rest. Her mind was still whirling from all the excitement, and she wasn''t sure if she''d even slept at all. Still, she couldn''t help but feel a sense of accomplishment after the successful hunt.

    "Another night, another monster slain," she muttered to herself. "And hopefully, a bit of a break before the next one."

    With a languid stretch that chased the last remnants of sleep from her limbs, Seraphine pushed back the covers and slid from her bed, her long hair tumbling around her shoulders in a disheveled mane. Her feet touched the cool wooden floor, and she padded silently to the window, pulling aside the curtains to gaze out at the lush expanse of her family''s estate.

    Thornhaven''s academy grounds sprawled out below her, its ancient stone buildings and gardens basking in the glow of dawn. She could see the Obsidian Tower in the distance, its spire piercing the sky like a black, jagged needle. Even now, its presence filled her with a sense of foreboding, as if it were watching her from afar.

    She shook her head, pushing away the thoughts that lingered in the back of her mind. "You''re just tired, Sera. You need to stop letting those old stories get to you."

    Taking a deep breath, she turned away from the window and began preparing for the day ahead. Today was a rare day not commanded by the hunt. Today, she was just Seraphine, not the Emerald Huntress.

    In the adjoining washroom, she splashed cold water on her face, watching in the mirror as droplets traced paths down her cheeks, highlighting the dusting of freckles across her pale skin. Her green eyes looked brighter than usual, no doubt from the previous night''s excitement.

    Turning from the mirror, she stripped off her nightgown and slipped into the steaming bath that had been drawn for her while she slept. The hot water felt wonderful against her skin, and she sighed contentedly as she sank into its embrace. For a moment, she allowed herself to simply enjoy the sensation, closing her eyes and letting the warmth seep into her weary bones.

    As she relaxed, she couldn''t help but think back on the previous night''s events. She''d been tracking the Murmuros for days, tracking it across the districts before finally cornering it here in Thornhaven.

    The creature had been strong, far stronger than she''d expected. If not for Levy''s insistence on teaming up, she wasn''t sure if she could''ve defeated it on her own. The two of them made a good team, and she was grateful to have a reliable partner at her side.

    Of course, he wasn''t the only one she could rely on. Her family name carried with it certain privileges and responsibilities, both of which she took seriously. As the last remaining scion of the Elmswood lineage, she knew she had a duty to fulfill.

    To protect the people of Mordenstradt from those who would seek to harm them, to carry on the legacy of her forebears, to uphold the noble traditions of her ancestors. It was a heavy burden, but one she bore with pride.

    Still, that didn''t mean she didn''t have time for a bit of fun. Seraphine let out a soft laugh, recalling how she''d met Levy on her first hunt in Mordenstradt as a fledgling Huntress. He''d saved her from an Unhallowed beast back then, and now they often hunted together as partners.

    She enjoyed his company, both on the hunt and off. His calm demeanor and quick wit never failed to bring a smile to her face. Even when things got tough, he always seemed to know just what to say to make her feel better.

    But she also knew that he harbored feelings for her, feelings she couldn''t return. He was a good friend, and she cared for him deeply¡ªlike family¡ªbut that was all. Still, she didn''t want to hurt his feelings, and so she''d done her best to keep things platonic between them. It wasn''t easy, but she knew it was the right thing to do.

    Hunters lived dangerous lives, often ending prematurely in death. To get close to another Hunter, only to lose them later... Seraphine couldn''t imagine the heartbreak that would cause. She didn''t want that kind of pain in her life, not after everything else she''d endured.

    It was safer for both of them to remain friends. To keep their emotions in check and focus on the hunt.

    And yet... a part of her couldn''t help but wonder what it would be like to let down her guard, to allow herself to fall for someone. Perhaps someday she would find someone who could spark her heart, but for now, her duties as a Hunter took precedence. Love would have to wait.

    Seraphine shook her head, dismissing the thoughts as she rose from the bath, wrapping herself in a towel and padding back into her room to begin her morning ritual. Each movement was precise, the product of years spent honing not just the body but the mind and spirit as well. She reached for the small kettle and tea leaves prepped the night before¡ªa habit instilled by her mother, who¡¯d insisted that a Hunter''s vigilance began with the dawn.

    As the tea steeped, its earthy scent filling the room, Seraphine attended to her appearance. Her auburn curls, usually left to cascade freely down her back, were today pulled back and woven into a practical braid, studded with tiny clips that gleamed like dewdrops in the early light. Her fingers moved deftly, each clip a talisman, each twist a spell of readiness.

    The clink of glass drew her attention to the small collection of vials lined up neatly on her dresser. Each one contained a different concoction or oil, blessings, and protections she had crafted from the teachings of older Hunters. She selected a vial, the contents shimmering with a faint light, and dabbed the oil behind her ears, between her breasts, and along her wrists¡ªa warding ointment to keep away minor curses and hexes.

    She moved to her armoire, selecting her attire for the day¡ªa loose blouse of white linen tucked into a corseted bodice and a skirt of earthen tones that hugged her hips and fell just below her knees. The soft leather of her boots encased her feet, their soles whisper-quiet on the wooden floor as she made her way back to the small table beside her bed.

    Sitting down, she poured herself a cup of tea and inhaled its steam, savoring the warmth that filled her chest. Her eyes drifted closed as she took a sip, letting the flavors wash over her tongue. It was an old family recipe, passed down through generations of Elmswoods, imbued with a potent blend of herbs said to enhance a Hunter''s senses for a day.

    Seraphine couldn''t help but wonder how many times her mother had taken this same tea before going out on a hunt. How many times had she sat at this very table, sipping from this very cup, steeling herself for whatever awaited? It was a bittersweet thought, one that both comforted and saddened her.

    After tea, she meditated on the floor, folding her legs beneath her as she inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, centering her mind and spirit.

    Finally, she rose and made her way downstairs, her footfalls barely making a sound as she descended the winding staircase.

    The manor was quiet, the only sounds were the soft ticking of the grandfather clock and the distant clatter of the kitchen where old Mrs. Coltridge prepared the morning meal.

    "Good mornin¡¯, Lady Seraphine," Mrs. Coltridge greeted her, with a nod that set her cap a-wobble. "Breakfast¡¯s just about ready, and there¡¯s scones¡ªyour favorite, with clotted cream and jam."

    "Thank you, Mrs. Coltridge," Seraphine said with a smile. She settled at the kitchen table, not the dining room, where breakfast was a solitary affair, here among the clinks and clatters of the household awakening, she felt a comforting sense of belonging.

    She tucked into the scones with relish, enjoying every buttery bite. As she ate, she listened to Mrs. Coltridge''s gossip, mostly stories about the families of Thornhaven. This was how Seraphine kept abreast of the rumors and goings-on in the district. It never hurt to know as much as possible about one''s surroundings.

    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

    "Will you be meetin¡¯ Master Levy today?" Mrs. Coltridge asked, casting a curious glance in Seraphine''s direction.

    "I''m not sure," Seraphine said, her tone neutral. "We''ll see if we run into each other. He might have other business to attend to."

    Mrs. Coltridge smiled knowingly. "Of course. Well, you two do make quite the pair when yer workin'' together."

    Seraphine chuckled softly, not wanting to encourage the older woman''s matchmaking attempts. "We''re just friends, Mrs. Coltridge."

    "If you say so, lass," Mrs. Coltridge replied, sounding unconvinced. But she didn''t press the matter, for which Seraphine was grateful. She wasn''t sure how long she could keep up the pretense of disinterest.

    "Oh! Have you heard?" Mrs. Coltridge paused in her baking to look at Seraphine. "There''s been rumors that news of the late diva, Marquess Aubrey Sinclair, has been greatly exaggerated and that she isn''t actually dead. In fact, some say they''ve seen her wandering about in the Ironworks. If true, it''d be quite a story, wouldn''t it?"

    Seraphine tried not to react. She hadn''t heard this rumor before.

    Of course, she had no interest in divas, operas, or music at all. Those pursuits belonged to people with more time on their hands than sense. However, she did find it curious that there would be such talk now.

    It was probably just some publicity stunt, an attempt to draw attention to an opera performance. Or maybe one of the divas was so jealous of Aubrey''s success that they wanted to spread false rumors about her death just to get attention. Still, Seraphine made a mental note to ask Levy if he''d heard anything about it. He always seemed to have his ear to the ground when it came to these sorts of things.

    "That is interesting," Seraphine said with a polite smile. "I''ll have to ask Levy if he''s heard anything about it."

    Mrs. Coltridge clucked her tongue. "You should really learn more about music and opera, Lady Seraphine. You might find you like it. Spending all your time hunting, training, and reading tomes all day... It ain''t good for a young lady like you. Why, when I was your age, I knew all the latest songs and dances! There wasn''t a social gathering I didn''t attend, and I had my pick of suitors, I tell you!"

    Seraphine raised an eyebrow. She couldn''t imagine Mrs. Coltridge as anything other than the cheerful, grandmotherly figure she''d always known. "Is that so?"

    "Oh, aye! I even took dance lessons with Lady Adelaide¡ªyou know, from the Aldernay family? We were quite the pair back then. And you know what they say about dancers..." Mrs. Coltridge trailed off, a dreamy look in her eyes.

    "What do they say?" Seraphine asked, curious despite herself.

    Mrs. Coltridge leaned closer and whispered, "They''re the best lovers!"

    Seraphine couldn''t help but laugh at that. "I''ll keep that in mind, Mrs. Coltridge. Thanks for the advice."

    As Seraphine finished her meal and made to leave, Mrs. Coltridge handed her a neatly wrapped bundle. "Here, take these scones with you. And if you do see Master Levy, give him my regards."

    Seraphine took the package, knowing full well that the housekeeper would have pressed them into her hands regardless of whether she''d agreed to deliver them. She''d learned long ago that it was easier to acquiesce than to argue.

    "Thank you, Mrs. Coltridge. I''ll pass on your regards," Seraphine said with a smile. "I''ll see you this evening."

    The housekeeper nodded and went back to her work as Seraphine headed out into the sunshine.

    <hr>

    The library was her sanctuary, the smell of old paper and leather as familiar and comforting as the scent of the forest after rain. Seraphine selected several volumes, laying them out on the large oak table that dominated the center of the room. Her finger traced the spine of a particularly old book, its cover worn to a soft patina by countless other hands.

    Opening it, she found the margins filled with notes in her father¡¯s hand, his writing meticulous and precise¡ªa sharp contrast to her own looping scrawl. She always had difficulty sitting still long enough to make her notes as tidy as his, and she often found herself with ink stains on her fingers at the end of a session. But she enjoyed the process, nonetheless, taking great care to ensure that each word was perfectly legible.

    Seraphine settled into the task, her mind absorbing the words, her memory piecing together the bits of lore and wisdom that would make her a better hunter. It was an arduous task, one that required patience and perseverance, but it was also rewarding¡ªin more ways than one. For every hour spent hunched over a dusty tome, she felt closer to her family, to her legacy, to the spirits of those who had come before her.

    But not all knowledge could be gleaned from books. There were some things that could only be learned through experience¡ªthings that couldn''t be taught, only discovered.

    She turned the page, her finger running along the text, absorbing the words as if by osmosis. The tale of an ancient beast, defeated by a noble Hunter. The chronicle of a fearsome battle, fought and won against seemingly impossible odds. Each story told a lesson, imparting valuable wisdom to future generations of Hunters.

    Seraphine reached the end of the book and sat back, her mind churning with thoughts and ideas. She always felt energized after a session in the library, and she knew she would put her newfound knowledge to good use on her next hunt.

    "I thought I''d find you here," Levy''s voice echoed from behind her.

    She turned to see him standing in the doorway, his tall frame silhouetted by the sunlight streaming in from the hall. He wore his usual outfit of dark leather, accented by a crisp white shirt and black cravat. His black hair fell over his brow in a rakish manner, giving him a roguish air.

    "I''m just finishing up," Seraphine replied, carefully closing the book and placing it back on the shelf. "You''ve finished your report? I assume that''s why you''re here?"

    Levy shrugged, an easy smile on his lips. "Partly. But mostly, I wanted to see if you''d like to get some lunch. I''ve heard about a new cafe that''s opened in the Jubilee Plaza, and I thought you might like to check it out with me."

    Seraphine hesitated, her hand lingering on the spine of the book. She wasn''t sure if she should accept his invitation or not. She didn''t want to encourage him, but at the same time, she didn''t want to hurt his feelings. And besides, she could use a break from her studies...

    "Alright," she agreed, her lips curling into a smile. "Let''s go. But we''re going as friends, understand?"

    Levy''s eyes sparkled with amusement, and he gave her a wink. "Of course. Just two friends, enjoying a meal together."

    As they made their way through the winding streets of Thornhaven, Seraphine couldn''t help but notice that Levy seemed unusually animated today. His stride was longer than usual, and he kept glancing over at her with a boyish grin on his face.

    "You seem rather excited," she commented, raising an eyebrow. "Care to share what''s got you so worked up?"

    Levy gave a nonchalant shrug, though his smile never faltered. "I don''t know what you''re talking about. I''m just enjoying the lovely weather."

    Seraphine rolled her eyes but didn''t press the issue further. She knew that whatever it was, he''d tell her eventually¡ªhe always did.

    When they arrived at the cafe, Seraphine found herself pleasantly surprised by the charming little establishment. It was nestled away in a quiet corner of the plaza, its patio strung with lights and filled with small tables. A hostess led them to one such table, where they took their seats and perused the menu.

    The cafe had an eclectic selection of food and drinks, from savory crepes to sweet pastries. Seraphine decided on a lavender latte and a spinach and feta crepe, while Levy opted for a dark roast coffee and a bacon-wrapped sausage kabob.

    As they waited for their food, Seraphine couldn''t help but notice that Levy''s fingers kept tapping out an erratic rhythm on the tabletop. He was definitely up to something.

    "So," she began, fixing him with a pointed stare, "are you going to tell me what''s going on, or do I have to guess?"

    Levy''s grin widened, and he leaned forward, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "I might have gotten us tickets to a very unorthodox musical performance. It''s supposed to be quite good."

    Seraphine felt her stomach drop. The last thing she wanted to do was spend an evening listening to screeching divas warbling on stage.

    "You know I don''t like opera," she said flatly. "Why would you even suggest such a thing?"

    "Oh, come on, and they say I''m the bookworm," Levy replied, his tone cajoling. "It''ll be fun! You need to get out of the library and do something different once in a while. Besides, the tickets aren''t for an opera¡ªit''s a show by a band called ''Unhallowed Harmony''. And if you don''t like it, we can leave."

    Unhallowed Harmony? What group would name themselves after such things?

    "I think I''ll pass," Seraphine said, shaking her head. "But you should go. It sounds like something you''d enjoy."

    Levy frowned, disappointment flashing across his features. "You won''t come with me? Not even as friends?"

    Seraphine knew she couldn''t keep dodging him like this, not if they were going to continue working together as partners. But at the same time, she couldn''t imagine anything worse than sitting through an evening of musical torture just to appease him.

    She took a deep breath and fixed him with a determined gaze. "If I say yes, will you promise to stop asking me out on dates?"

    Levy looked affronted. "They''re not dates! We''re just two friends, enjoying each other''s company."

    Finally, she sighed and relented. "Alright, I''ll go with you. But only as a friend."

    Levy''s expression brightened, and he gave her a charming smile. "Excellent! I''ll pick you up at eight, then."

    "Where is this performance taking place?" Seraphine inquired.

    "Oh, it''s in Gallow''s Row," Levy replied airily. "I hear the venue''s quite... unique."

    Seraphine blanched. Gallow''s Row was the most dangerous district in all of Mordenstradt, and it certainly wasn''t a place for a lady to be visiting¡ªespecially not at night. She couldn''t believe she''d let him talk her into this.

    "Gallow''s Row? Really?" she asked, trying to keep the disbelief from her voice. "Isn''t that a bit... unsavory?"

    Levy waved a dismissive hand. "Oh, come on. It''ll be fine. We''re Hunters, after all¡ªif anything goes wrong, we can take care of ourselves."

 Chapter 34: Party Crashers

    As they made their way through the dingy streets of Gallows Row, Seraphine couldn''t help but wonder what the two of them looked like¡ªtwo well-dressed people strolling through the slums, clearly out of place. She felt conspicuous, despite Levy''s assurances that they blended in.

    Seraphine wore a long black coat with a hood pulled up over her head, hoping to conceal her face and identity from any unsavory characters that might be lurking about. She had strapped several daggers to her person¡ªjust in case.

    Levy walked beside her, his hands in his pockets, whistling softly under his breath. He seemed oblivious to the stares and whispers they received as they passed by. Seraphine wished she could share his carefree attitude, but she couldn''t help but feel like they were walking into a lion''s den¡ªone wrong move, and they''d end up as prey.

    "There it is," Levy said, pointing to a ramshackle building with a sign that read "The Dancing Pony". The windows were boarded up, and the door hung slightly off its hinges. It looked like it hadn''t seen use in years.

    Seraphine couldn''t believe they''d actually come here. There was no way this was going to end well.

    "This is it?" Seraphine asked, staring dubiously at the run-down tavern. "Are you sure we''re in the right place?"

    Even Levy looked a bit uncertain now. He scratched the back of his neck, a sheepish expression on his face. "I... I think so? I got the tickets from a friend of a friend, so I''m not really sure. But I''m pretty sure this is it."

    She gave him an exasperated look. "Levy, if this is some kind of joke, it isn''t funny."

    "It''s not a joke," he assured her. "That friend of a friend happened to be a fellow with exquisite taste in music, and if he said this place would have an entertaining show, I trust him."

    Seraphine sighed and shook her head. "You''re impossible."

    They approached the tavern''s entrance, a half-rotted door hanging on rusted hinges. Levy pushed it open, revealing quite a spacious interior. Despite the outside looking like it was about to fall apart, inside, it seemed fairly well-maintained.

    There were several round tables scattered about, each surrounded by a few chairs. A bar sat at one end of the room, with a burly bartender standing behind it. There was a small stage at the other end, and several people milled about in front of it, chatting excitedly.

    As they stepped inside, Seraphine noticed that the tavern was surprisingly full for such a shady-looking place. Levy seemed unfazed by this and made his way toward the bar. Seraphine followed, feeling increasingly out of place among the rough-looking patrons.

    "What can I get ye?" the bartender asked, eyeing them suspiciously. "And what are ye doin'' here? This ain''t no place for fancy folk like you."

    Levy gave the man a disarming smile. "Just here to see the show, my good man. And maybe have a drink or two while we''re at it."

    The bartender''s expression didn''t change, but he reached under the counter and produced two glasses and a bottle of some unknown liquor. He poured the drinks and pushed them toward Levy and Seraphine.

    "There ye go," he said gruffly. "Now, go sit down and don''t cause any trouble."

    Levy took the drinks and handed one to Seraphine, who accepted it reluctantly. They found an empty table near the back corner of the room and sat down. Seraphine glanced around nervously, still feeling like they were drawing far too much attention to themselves.

    "Would you relax?" Levy chided her in a hushed tone. "You''re making us look even more out of place than we already do."

    Seraphine shot him an annoyed look. "Easy for you to say¡ªyou''re not the one who feels like they have a target painted on their back."

    Just as she said that, a group of shady-looking individuals walked past them, giving them appraising glances. Levy ignored them and took a sip of his drink, but Seraphine couldn''t help but wince inwardly.

    She looked down at her drink, swirling the amber liquid around in her glass.

    "Don''t drink anything until I''ve checked it for poison," she whispered to Levy. "You never know what might be in this swill."

    Levy rolled his eyes but didn''t protest. "You''re the boss," he said with a shrug.

    The time Seraphine spent studying alchemy and experimenting with various concoctions had honed her senses when it came to herbs and potions. She dipped her pinky finger into her drink and swirled it around, smelling the mixture. It smelled faintly of juniper berries and maybe a bit of cedar. She touched her pinky to her tongue and tasted the mixture. It had a sharp bite and a lingering aftertaste that reminded her of pine.

    "It''s safe," she told Levy, "but it won''t win any awards for flavor."

    They sat in silence for a few moments, sipping their drinks and observing the crowd. There seemed to be an equal mix of rough-looking men and women, as well as a few well-dressed individuals like themselves. No one paid them any undue attention, and Seraphine started to relax a little. Maybe this wouldn''t be so bad after all.

    Just then, a hush fell over the crowd as a woman walked onto the stage.

    To say that the woman dressed in a rather risque manner would be an understatement. She wore a sheer, black, corseted top with intricate lacework that exposed her ample cleavage. A pair of... daringly short leather trousers that ended just at the thigh hugged her curves and accentuated her shapely legs¡ªleaving little to the imagination. Her feet were adorned with high-heeled boots that made her appear even taller than she already was.

    The woman''s jet-black hair cascaded down her back in a waterfall of shadows. Her makeup was dark and dramatic, with smoky eyeshadow and blood-red lips that curled into a smirk.

    Although Seraphine didn''t pay much attention to fashion or beauty beyond the practical, she couldn''t help but feel a bit scandalized by the woman''s attire. However, judging by the cheers and whistles from the crowd, she seemed to be exactly what they wanted.

    Crimson eyes surveyed the growing audience, lingering on Seraphine for a moment. The woman''s eyes went wide and she nearly stumbled, but she quickly recovered and continued her strut across the stage.

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    Hold on. She looked... familiar¡ªthe woman Seraphine had saved from the Murmuros the night before.

    Levy leaned closer to her and whispered, "Isn''t that the same woman you helped last night? The one who was nearly devoured by that monster?"

    "I think so," Seraphine whispered back, trying not to stare at the woman too intently. "But how did she end up here?"

    Soon, more members of the band arrived, taking their places on stage.

    A tall, broad-shouldered figure took his place behind a drum set, enshrouded in a thick, hooded robe that obscured much of his form. Seraphine couldn''t see the figure''s face beneath the cowl of the hood, but she could feel the weight of his gaze as he surveyed the audience.

    Next, a man in an elaborate mask and heavily tailored garments took his place on stage, holding a guitar. His attire seemed intentionally excessive, covering every inch of skin. The mask was particularly ornate, a fa?ade of polished brass and intricate gears, glinting under the stage lights. There was an elegance to his movements, a rhythm that seemed almost too perfect, too calculated to be entirely human.

    Lastly, a slight, almost fragile-looking figure stepped into the dim spotlight. Her appearance was markedly less flamboyant than the first, but no less striking. Her clothing was simple¡ªa black tunic and trousers, both loose and flowing¡ªbut her features held a haunting beauty. Her skin was pale and almost translucent. Her hair, like a curtain of seaweed, fell around her shoulders in a tangle of matted strands. She carried a violin case in one hand and a bow in the other.

    Despite her graceful demeanor, there was a faint, almost imperceptible tremor in her movements¡ªa shadow that seemed at odds with her luminous presence.

    Seraphine felt a prickling sense of curiosity as she watched them tune their instruments and prepare. There was something unmistakably off about the group. It wasn¡¯t just their eclectic dressing or the obscure way some of them concealed their identities; it was the way they moved, the way they held themselves. Even from a distance, they exuded a sense of otherworldliness, as if they were simply going through the motions of what it meant to be human.

    The four performers looked out at the crowd, then back at each other. The woman from the night before motioned for her bandmates to huddle together and began whispering something to them. Seraphine couldn''t hear what was said, but the man in the elaborate mask glanced over at her briefly.

    A shiver ran down her spine.

    As they stepped away from each other, the woman spoke to the crowd, her voice clear and confident. "Thank you all for coming out tonight. We are ''Unhallowed Harmony''. Are you ready to rock?"

    The crowd roared its approval, and the band launched into their first song.

    To Seraphine''s surprise, the music wasn''t what she expected. Instead of screeching divas wailing on the stage, the sound that came from the band was like nothing she''d ever heard before¡ªthough that wasn''t saying much, as her knowledge of music ended with an occasional stroll around the city and listening to street performers on her patrols.

    The crimson-eyed woman''s voice was a smoky growl that echoed through the room, mixing with the cacophony of sounds coming from the rest of the band. It was chaotic, but in a strangely beautiful way. The man in the elaborate mask played his guitar with precision, his fingers flying across the strings in a blur of motion. The other woman swayed gracefully, her bow gliding over the strings of her violin as she joined in with her own melody. And the figure behind the drums kept a steady beat, driving the music forward with relentless intensity.

    The crowd was oblivious to the oddities, caught up in the performance''s allure. But Seraphine couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that something wasn¡¯t quite right. She found herself watching the band members carefully, trying to discern their true nature. Were they really what they appeared to be? Or was there something else lurking beneath the surface?

    Levy, on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying himself immensely. He bobbed his head along with the music and tapped his foot in time to the beat. When the woman from the night before hit a particularly high note, he cheered and clapped enthusiastically.

    As the song continued, Seraphine felt herself getting drawn in as well. There was something captivating about the performance, something that drew her in and held her spellbound. The crowd seemed to feel it too, dancing and cheering as the band played on.

    The more she watched and listened, the more Seraphine realized that she couldn''t quite pinpoint what made the music so unique and intriguing. It wasn''t just the odd sounds or the strange melodies; there was something else, something intangible. Something almost... ethereal.

    As the song drew to a close, the woman at the front of the stage raised her hand and paused for dramatic effect. Then, with a flourish, she let out a guttural scream that echoed through the room and ended the song.

    The crowd went wild, cheering and applauding loudly. Levy whooped and clapped along, a broad smile on his face. He glanced over at Seraphine and gave her an enthusiastic thumbs-up.

    Seraphine couldn''t help but admit that they were good, even if she had no frame of reference for this type of music. She didn''t know what it was about the performance that made her feel so off-balance, but it wasn''t necessarily bad. It was just... different.

    The next set of songs kept Seraphine on the edge of her seat. The songs weren''t particularly fast or loud, but they had an intensity and passion that kept the audience enraptured. And, to her surprise, she found herself enjoying the music more and more as the set progressed.

    Eventually, their last performance built to a crescendo, the music swelling in a rush that seemed to fill every crevice of the room. Seraphine found herself caught up in the sound, her analytical mind momentarily overtaken by the sheer force of the auditory experience. Yet, even as she allowed herself this moment of abandonment, her gaze continued to flit across the stage, piecing together the incongruities that nagged at her.

    As the final notes lingered in the air, applause broke out, thunderous and enthusiastic. The band members acknowledged the crowd, their gestures gracious yet contained, always mindful of the personas they projected. As they retreated from the stage, the figure in the hooded robe paused, his stance shifting in a way that suggested a momentary lapse in his guarded posture.

    The fleeting change was almost imperceptible to anyone not trained to observe as she was, but to her, it was a telling slip¡ªa crack in the fa?ade that hinted at the true nature beneath.

    For a fleeting second, Seraphine''s sharp gaze caught sight of what lay hidden under the thick layers¡ªa hint of stone-like skin that seemed too rigid and textured to be human flesh. The sight was brief but unmistakable, and it sent a jolt of apprehension through her. What exactly had she stumbled into?

    Even as the figure quickly adjusted his robe, smoothly concealing the anomaly with a practiced gloved hand, the image was seared into Seraphine¡¯s mind. The way his skin had caught the light, not reflecting it but absorbing it with an unnatural matte quality, was distinctly non-human.

    As the applause continued, Seraphine nudged Levy. "Did you see that?" she asked, keeping her voice low. "The one in the hood?"

    Levy looked at her quizzically. "See what?"

    "His skin," she said urgently. "It wasn''t... right. It was like stone or something."

    Levy''s eyes widened, and he glanced toward the stage. "You think they''re all..." He didn''t finish the sentence, but Seraphine knew what he meant.

    She nodded, her suspicions confirmed. There was something very unusual about this band, and she needed to find out what it was.

    "We need to get closer," she whispered, already rising from her seat. "Come on."

    She started toward the stage, weaving through the crowd of applauding patrons. Levy followed close behind, looking a bit apprehensive.

    As soon as they reached the edge of the stage, the beads and baubles of her bracelet began to vibrate, emanating an eerie hum that prickled against her skin. She came to an abrupt halt, eyes widening in alarm.

    Her suspicions had been correct¡ªthe bracelet detected the presence of Unhallowed nearby. And based on the intensity of the reaction, it was more than one.

    She nodded to Levy, who gave her a grim look. Without another word, they turned and pushed their way through the crowd, heading for the exit.

    Before those Unhallowed musicians could get away with whatever nefarious plans they had, Seraphine intended to put a stop to them.

 Chapter 35: Pecking Order

    "We''re being followed," Cedric murmured in a low tone as they walked down the alley. The sound of their footsteps echoed off the stone walls surrounding them.

    Aubrey glanced over her shoulder, spotting the silhouettes of the two Hunters¡ªSeraphine and Levy¡ªslowly moving in pursuit.

    A smirk crossed her face.

    She hadn''t expected to encounter them so soon, but to her surprise, it seemed like fate had other plans. To think she''d see them attending one of her concerts! How ironic.

    But there was no time to dwell on that now. If the pair of Hunters was so determined to come after them, it probably wasn''t to get their autographs.

    "Should we hie ourselves hence?" Thaddeus suggested, his gaze lingering on the encroaching duo. "''Tis unwise to remain where we may be beset."

    "Wait, you think they''ll be able to take us all out?" Aubrey asked. She''d had a glimpse of their capabilities, and while she admitted they were formidable, she doubted they''d stand much chance against the combined strength of her bandmates.

    "I can dispatch them both myself," Cedric rumbled with quiet confidence. "The girl isn''t properly armed, and the boy doesn''t look like much of a fighter. We should avoid conflict if possible, but if it comes to blows, I won''t hesitate."

    "Oh, just go easy on them, okay?" Aubrey chided him. "No need to break any bones or anything like that. Just... subdue them or something. Let''s not go overboard."

    Cedric gave her a sideways look. "Why such clemency? They seek our destruction."

    "We don''t know that for sure," Aubrey said. "Maybe they just want to talk. Or maybe they''re curious about us." She thought of the way Seraphine had looked at her earlier, as if trying to puzzle something out. "We should give them a chance, at least."

    Cedric shrugged. "As you wish."

    "I''m...hungry," Liza mumbled, her voice a faint whisper. Her steps grew slower, more labored, and she swayed unsteadily on her feet.

    Oh crap! What timing...

    Liza''s hunger always surfaced at the worst possible moments. And Aubrey doubted the Hunters would look kindly upon seeing Liza drain someone dry in front of their eyes.

    At times, Aubrey had volunteered to provide sustenance for Liza, using her own life force to keep the Unhallowed woman sated. While Aubrey had initially resented the loss of her strength¡ªthe drain sapping her will and vigor, leaving her exhausted and weak¡ªshe found that she didn''t mind it as much lately.

    Plus, it came with the benefit of being able to cuddle up against Liza afterwards, which was always nice¡ªthough the woman¡¯s shadows had a tendency to get a bit overzealous with their...err, tentacle play.

    It was better than combing through Gallows Row trying to find scum of the earth to take away from this world, even if they were due for some kind of retribution. Or risking Liza going out on a rampage, hunting down random victims like she had been doing before joining. At least with Liza''s draining of her energy, there wasn''t a bloodbath and body count.

    "You can feed off me later," Aubrey told her. "I know you''re hungry, but we can''t do that right now. Try to hold off for a little bit longer, okay?"

    Liza gave a weak nod, but Aubrey wasn''t sure how long the girl could last. She had to find a way to feed her soon, or things could get messy.

    They turned into a side street, picking up their pace as they did so. The Hunters followed suit, keeping their distance but not losing sight of them. It seemed like they were determined to pursue, regardless of whether it led to a confrontation.

    Aubrey decided to test their resolve. As they approached a dead end, she paused and turned to face the approaching duo, her bandmates halting beside her.

    "Alright," she said in a low tone. "Let''s see what they want."

    The two Hunters slowed as they neared, coming to a halt a short distance away from them. Aubrey regarded them silently, waiting for them to speak first.

    Seraphine''s eyes narrowed as she scrutinized them. "I think you know why we''re here."

    Aubrey smirked. "Let me guess¡ªyou want to tell us how we''re doing great work and that our music has touched your heart? Or maybe you''re just a couple of fans wanting an autograph?"

    Seraphine''s lips pressed into a thin line, her expression hardening. "Don''t play coy. We both know that you''re not what you seem." She paused, then added, "Unhallowed."

    "Well, well, well," Aubrey said, amusement twinkling in her eyes. "I guess the cat''s out of the bag now. And here I thought we were doing such a good job keeping up appearances."

    "Your guise may fool others," Seraphine replied. "But we know the truth."

    "And what exactly is that truth?" Aubrey asked, genuinely curious. "You seem to think you know something about us, but I''m not so sure. You''re obviously some kind of Hunter, right? So, what, do you just hunt down any Unhallowed you come across?"

    Seraphine gave a curt nod. "That''s correct. Our order was founded for the sole purpose of ridding the world of your kind."

    "My kind?" Aubrey asked, her tone challenging. "So, you''re saying you think all Unhallowed are evil or something? That we''re all mindless monsters?" She cocked her head to one side. "Doesn''t seem very fair, does it? Why do you get to decide who''s good and who''s bad? Maybe we''re not all so different from you."

    She let out a quiet snort at the last statement. It was a total lie, but she had to try to turn the situation to their advantage. Maybe if she could convince them that they were misguided, the Hunters would back off and leave them alone. Or at least postpone any potential skirmish that would take place.

    Seraphine''s gaze didn''t waver. "Don''t try to make us out to be the villains here," she said coldly. "I know that you''re all creatures of darkness, twisted beings who feed on the lives of others. I know that you hide in the shadows, preying on the innocent and unwary. And I know that it''s my duty to stop you."

    Aubrey couldn''t help but scoff at that. "Wow, that''s pretty black-and-white thinking, don''t you think? Sounds like you''ve got us all figured out." She crossed her arms, leveling a mocking smile at the girl. "What if I told you that you were wrong? What if I said that some of us aren''t so bad?"

    "I''d say you''re lying," Seraphine retorted without hesitation. "There''s no good in any of you."

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    "Is that so?" Aubrey challenged. "And what if I said I''ve had my whole life turned upside down and I''m just trying to make the best of things?" She paused, considering the idea for a moment. "Nah, too long. Let''s just stick with I''m not so bad."

    Seraphine didn''t respond immediately, regarding Aubrey with an inscrutable look. Then, after a moment, she asked, "Why are you playing music? Why are you putting on performances in run-down taverns? What do you stand to gain from it?"

    "Well, for starters," Aubrey began, "it''s fun. I like performing. I like hearing people enjoy our music. And let''s be honest¡ªcompared to other districts, Gallows Row could use a little more joy in its life, don''t you think?" She paused, then added in a lower tone, "And maybe I''m just trying to show you all that there''s more to us than meets the eye."

    Aubrey''s attention shifted to Seraphine''s companion, the silent young man who had thus far observed the exchange in silence. "What about you?" she asked, meeting his gaze. "What do you think?"

    Levy looked at her for a moment, then gave a slight shrug. "I think you''re unusual, but... you don''t seem that bad. But," he added, "I don''t think that makes you any less of a danger."

    "Hm, that''s fair," Aubrey conceded. "But that doesn''t mean we''re not worth getting to know, right?" She cast him a pointed look. "You could even say we''re worth saving."

    She''d hit a nerve, it seemed, as she watched him tense up slightly at her words. Something dark flashed across his expression before he quickly recovered, the impassive mask slipping back into place.

    "That''s not our decision to make," he said after a moment, his voice taking on an edge. "And you''re only wasting your time trying to convince us otherwise."

    "So that''s it, then?" Aubrey asked, turning back to Seraphine. "You think you have all the answers, and there''s no point in trying to convince you otherwise?" She shook her head in mock disappointment. "What a shame. And here I thought we might actually be able to reach an understanding."

    "No," Seraphine said, drawing her blade. "We understand each other perfectly. And we understand that you''re a threat that needs to be dealt with."

    The steel of Seraphine''s blade shone under the moonlight as she held it at the ready.

    Aubrey frowned. She''d tried reasoning with them, but it seemed like they were too stubborn or set in their ways to listen.

    Fine. If they wanted to fight, then so be it.

    She let out a tired sigh. "Well, if you''re so sure about that, I guess there''s no point in trying to convince you otherwise. Come on, then¡ªlet''s get this over with. Oh, and since we outnumber you two-to-one, how about we make this a little more fair? I''ll let you fight the weakest member among us first, then you can have the honor of facing me last." She shot them a sharp grin. "How does that sound?"

    Seraphine looked unimpressed. "Why don''t you save your breath and send your lackey already?"

    Aubrey arched an eyebrow. "Lackey? That''s not very nice."

    She turned to her bandmates, glancing over each one before settling on Cedric.

    "Ceddy, you''re up," she said with a casual wave of her hand. "Try not to kill them, okay? We don''t need that kind of trouble right now."

    Cedric crossed his arms. "Although I have no objection to the plan, I do object to the premise. I am not the weakest among us."

    Aubrey blinked, taken aback by his response. She hadn''t expected any pushback from him. What happened to his earlier assertion that he could easily dispatch both Hunters?

    Besides, she wasn''t wrong.

    "Uh, I''m sorry, what?" she asked. "Of course you''re the weakest. Think about it. I beat you up when we first met, remember?"

    "Your memory of the event seems hazy," Cedric rumbled dryly. "As I recall, I was the one who emerged victorious in that confrontation."

    "Pfft, that''s not how I remember it," Aubrey shot back, planting her hands on her hips.

    Cedric remained unmoved. "I had advised you to scramble like an egg before I folded you like an omelet. You didn''t take my advice, which resulted in me thrashing you like a rag doll and dumping you out like rotten milk."

    W-What the fuck?! This asshole...I taught him that phrase!

    "I blasted you with Hellion''s Cry, ya remember that? And then afterward you were all, ''Oh Milady Aubrey, you''ve bested me. Please let me serve under you like a squire!'' You sure had a change of heart, didn''t you?" She scoffed at him, jutting her chin in a defiant gesture. "What happened to that, huh? I think I''m the strongest one here."

    "I had been taken aback by the sacred artifact''s acceptance of you as its rightful wielder," Cedric admitted. "For that, I offered my allegiance. However, should the fight have continued any longer, I would have thrown you out the second time that night."

    Aubrey scowled at him, hands still planted on her hips. "Whatever, dude. I had my Excalibur moment. There was no way I wasn''t going to win."

    Cedric sighed. "It appears we are at an impasse. Therefore, let us resolve this disagreement through combat."

    "You wanna go? Alright, fine," Aubrey growled.

    Thaddeus walked between the two, shaking his head. "Enough. We mustn''t bicker among ourselves. Besides, ''Tis clear who holds the greatest strength among us."

    "Well?" Aubrey asked. "Who is it, then?"

    "Mine dear friend Liza," Thaddeus said simply.

    Liza stiffened at the mention of her name, her gaze darting around nervously. She shuffled back a few steps, clearly uncomfortable with the attention.

    Hmm... Now that he mentioned it, Aubrey had to admit that he had a point. When she''d first met Liza, the girl had exuded this otherworldly, eldritch aura that left Aubrey unnerved. Even after getting to know her and bonding with her, there was still something intimidating about lurking beneath that introverted demeanor.

    Aubrey looked back at Cedric. "What do you think? Is Liza stronger than you?"

    "In terms of physical strength, no. But in terms of sheer power, she would likely be more capable," Cedric admitted. Then, with a dry chuckle, he added, "But we all know she has neither the temperament nor the will to engage in conflict."

    Aubrey couldn''t help but smile at that. He was right¡ªLiza was the least likely to cause any trouble out of all of them, unless she was feeding. And that was saying something, considering who their company consisted of.

    "I suppose there''s only one way to settle this, then," Aubrey said, crossing her arms. "Let''s have a vote. Who do you think is the strongest among us?"

    She looked around at her bandmates, gauging their reactions. Liza shrank back further, hiding behind Thaddeus, who seemed unbothered by the question. Cedric kept his expression neutral, his arms still crossed. Only Thaddeus voiced an answer.

    "My vote goes to Liza, of course."

    Aubrey nodded. "Yeah, I''m not ashamed to admit that I''m not the strongest here. I mean, I''d like to think I''m a close second, but I know when I''m beat."

    Cedric nodded as well. "I must concur. I may have the brute strength and fighting prowess, but I do not possess Liza''s eldritch power."

    "So Liza is the strongest. Then who is the second strongest?" Aubrey asked.

    There was a moment of silence before Thaddeus spoke up. "T''would be Cedric, with his raw might and physical prowess. Then, I would posit that I am next in line. My strength of mind and sheer intellect would make me quite formidable in combat."

    Wait¡ªwhat? If Thaddeus thought that Cedric was stronger than him, and Thaddeus had thoroughly thrashed her, then... oh no.

    "Oh crap," Aubrey said out loud. "Does that mean I''m the weakest? Are you kidding me? I''m not that weak!"

    "I don''t think you''re weak," Liza mumbled, lowering her gaze. "You''re just... different."

    Different? What the hell did that mean? Was that supposed to be a compliment or an insult?

    Aubrey grasped her hair in frustration, groaning. This whole thing was turning into a headache.

    "Ugh, whatever," she finally said, giving up. "Let''s just get this over with." She glanced over at the two Hunters, who had been watching the exchange with confused expressions. "Sorry about all that, but it looks like you still have to fight Ceddy... because apparently, I''m the weakest. But I''m not in the mood to fight, so he can do it instead."

    Cedric smirked. "Are you sure? Perhaps we should have another match to determine the true hierarchy of power among us?"

    She shook her head. "No, no, no. Let''s not do that. You''re just gonna be smug if you win again, and I don''t need that kind of negativity in my life." She sighed. "Let''s just get this over with already."

    The Hunter pair regarded them with cautious skepticism, the blade still clutched tightly in Seraphine''s hand. Levy shifted slightly behind her, his eyes never leaving the band members.

    "Very well," Cedric rumbled, moving to take his place in front of Aubrey. "As Milady commands."

 Chapter 36: Outmatched

    The hooded figure let out a rumbling growl as he shed his disguise, revealing the full extent of his inhuman visage¡ªa stony skin and jagged features, sharp claws glinting under the moonlight. His wings flared out from his back, a metallic sheen shimmering along their edges.

    A gargoyle.

    Seraphine took a step back, her hand tightening around the hilt of her blade. She had never seen a gargoyle before, but she knew enough about their kind to be wary. They were notoriously strong and fierce, capable of causing massive amounts of damage with little effort. And this one seemed no different.

    She exchanged a quick glance with Levy, who looked equally unnerved by the creature''s appearance. But they had a job to do, and they couldn''t afford to back down now.

    Not having her crossbow ''Heartseeker'', along with more specialized tools and ammo, left her feeling vulnerable. She always carried her blade, but it wasn''t nearly as versatile or useful against such a foe.

    Her only hope was that the gargoyle''s focus would be split between fighting them both, giving them an edge in the fight.

    It didn''t seem like it would be much of an issue, as the gargoyle¡ªCedric, she remembered Aubrey calling him¡ªturned his attention to her. His eyes glinted dangerously, and he bared his teeth in a feral snarl. He lunged forward, claws outstretched.

    Seraphine quickly dodged to the side, narrowly avoiding the swipe. She kept moving, trying to keep some distance between them as she tried to come up with a plan.

    Meanwhile, Levy darted to the side, unleashing a volley of ofuda at the gargoyle. They flew through the air, their papery surface glowing with arcane runes, before slapping against the creature''s stony skin. For a moment, nothing seemed to happen, but then the ofuda burst into flames, sending tongues of fire licking along the gargoyle''s body.

    The creature roared in anger, clawing at the fiery ofuda. The flames didn''t seem to be doing any lasting damage, but it was enough to distract him from his pursuit of Seraphine. She seized the opportunity, rushing forward and slashing at the gargoyle with her blade.

    Her attack landed, carving a shallow gash across the gargoyle''s chest. But before she could follow up with another strike, he recovered and lashed out at her, catching her off guard. His claws raked across her arm, leaving a stinging trail of cuts. She hissed in pain but didn''t back down, pressing forward with another attack.

    Levy circled around behind the gargoyle, firing more ofuda at him. They struck true, exploding into a shower of sparks. The creature turned his attention to Levy, launching himself into the air with a powerful flap of his wings. He swooped down, raking his claws across Levy''s chest and sending him crashing to the ground.

    "Levy!" Seraphine shouted, rushing to his aid.

    She leaped forward, her blade flashing through the air as she slashed at the gargoyle. He whirled around to face her, blocking her attack with his arm. Her blade carved another shallow gash into his stony skin, but he didn''t seem fazed by the injury. He retaliated with a punch, his fist connecting with her shoulder and sending her stumbling back.

    Her injured arm hung limp at her side, pain shooting through her body with every movement. She gripped her blade tightly with her good hand, gritting her teeth against the pain. She had to keep fighting, for Levy''s sake.

    Cedric flung himself forward again, unleashing a flurry of punches. Seraphine dodged and weaved, doing her best to avoid the barrage of blows. She lashed out with her blade whenever she got the opportunity, but the gargoyle seemed to be able to read her movements, blocking or dodging her attacks.

    As they fought, she noticed Levy starting to recover, pushing himself up from the ground. He reached into his pocket, pulling out another ofuda and hurling it at the gargoyle. Ethereal chains sprouted from the paper, wrapping around the creature and binding him in place.

    It seemed like this would be their chance to strike a decisive blow, but the gargoyle bared his teeth, letting out a roar that shook the very air around them. His eyes glowed with an unearthly light, and suddenly the chains disintegrated, crumbling into dust.

    He lunged forward, pouncing on Levy and pinning him to the ground. Seraphine dashed toward them, leaping onto the gargoyle''s back and trying to wrench him off Levy.

    The gargoyle reached up, grabbed her hair, and slammed her to the ground. Seraphine groaned as the pain jolted through her, her vision blurring. But she didn''t let go of her blade, clinging to it with a death grip.

    Cedric yanked her back up, his claws digging into her scalp. He slammed her to the ground again, then again, before flinging her aside like a rag doll. She hit the wall of a nearby building, her body going limp.

    Levy struggled against the gargoyle''s grasp, but he couldn''t break free. Cedric brought his face close to Levy''s, snarling.

    "Is this the best you can do?" he asked in a low rumble. "I must say, I''m rather disappointed."

    Cedric reared back and delivered a powerful punch to Levy''s face. The young man''s head snapped back, blood spurting from his nose. He went limp, his body falling limp to the ground.

    <hr>

    Aubrey sauntered over to Seraphine''s side, then plopped herself down onto the ground next to her. She glanced at the unconscious girl, a smirk tugging at her lips.

    She knew that the girl was skilled¡ªshe''d seen her fight¡ªbut even she hadn''t expected the Hunter to fall so easily. Was Cedric really that strong?

    "I thought you said you could take care of us," Aubrey commented, gesturing to Cedric as he walked toward them. "Now look at you¡ªyou''re a mess. And your friend isn''t looking so hot either."

    Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

    Cedric had dragged Levy''s unconscious form over and dropped him unceremoniously on the ground next to Seraphine. The young man''s face was a bloody, swollen mess, and he lay motionless on the cobblestone.

    "You really did a number on them," Aubrey said, looking up at Cedric. "Remind me not to get on your bad side. I mean, damn¡ªI''ve fought you twice... you must have really held back with me, huh?"

    Cedric gave her a blank look. "I would not consider our prior engagements as fights," he said. "In fact, I would hesitate to call them battles at all."

    "Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence," Aubrey grumbled, rolling her eyes.

    "What... do we do with them now?" Liza asked, looking at the two unconscious Hunters. Her face betrayed a mix of uncertainty and discomfort, as if she couldn''t decide whether to be afraid of them or pity them.

    Aubrey shrugged. "I dunno. It''s not like we can just leave them here. Can we?"

    Thaddeus knelt down next to Seraphine and started rummaging through her pockets. After a moment, he pulled out a handful of coins and held them up triumphantly.

    "It appears we have acquired some monetary gains," he said. "The progeny''s belongings will also fetch a fair price on the black market."

    "Damn, Thaddy... you sure know how to turn a profit." Aubrey whistled in appreciation.

    She looked back at the two Hunters, frowning. While she wasn''t opposed to taking advantage of their defeat, something about the whole situation left a bad taste in her mouth. Was it just her or did the whole thing seem kind of unfair?

    It looked like she had just asked Cedric to beat up a protagonist and her sidekick. She''d thought that maybe it would have been more challenging, but instead, they had both gotten thoroughly curb-stomped. Talk about anticlimactic.

    Still, they had attacked them first. Maybe this was just the natural order of things. The strong ate the weak, or whatever. Right?

    She looked up at Cedric again. "You did a good job," she said. "But... I dunno, I guess I was kind of expecting more of a fight."

    "They were ill-informed and ill-equipped for such an encounter," Cedric said. "I suspect that had they known the full extent of my capabilities, they would not have been so bold."

    "Yeah, well, they''re gonna get a rude awakening when they wake up," Aubrey said, sighing. "And they''re probably gonna be pissed at us too."

    Thaddeus stowed away Seraphine''s belongings, then straightened up, brushing off his coat. "Let them be. T''was merely a display of our strength. An example, if you will."

    "That''s what I was thinking," Aubrey said, nodding. "But still... I guess we can''t just leave them here." She glanced at Cedric again. "Do you think you could carry them? Or maybe drag them somewhere?"

    "I am capable of both," Cedric rumbled. "Where would you like me to take them?"

    "Hmm... Well, I guess we can just stash them somewhere for now," Aubrey said, looking around. "Somewhere out of the way, where they won''t get murdered by other people or something."

    "Very well," Cedric said, taking the two Hunters under each arm. "I shall deposit them within an alleyway."

    "Alright, perfect," Aubrey said, watching as he did just that. "I think we''ve seen enough of this place for now anyway. Let''s get out of here before someone else comes along and tries to start some shit."

    <hr>

    Seraphine''s eyes fluttered open, a dull ache pulsing through her skull. She groaned, blinking against the harsh sunlight that streamed down from above.

    As she regained her senses, she realized she was lying on a bed of garbage, surrounded by moldering refuse and filth. Her clothes were torn and dirty, and her body ached from head to toe.

    She sat up, wincing as the pain in her head intensified.

    What had happened? The last thing she remembered was fighting against the gargoyle. She had thought she could take him on, but he had proved far too strong. And then... nothing.

    She gingerly touched her scalp, feeling the crust of dried blood matted into her hair. Great. Just great.

    As she pushed herself to her feet, she caught sight of Levy lying nearby, still unconscious. He looked even worse than she did, his face swollen and bruised from the beating he had received. His chest had a nasty cut on it, but it seemed like he was breathing alright.

    She staggered over to his side, kneeling down next to him. "Levy," she said, shaking him gently. "Levy, wake up."

    Levy stirred, groaning softly. His eyes opened, and he looked up at her with bleary confusion.

    "Wh-what happened?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

    "I don''t know," Seraphine admitted. "But I think we lost."

    Levy propped himself up on one elbow, wincing as he gingerly touched his battered face. "How bad is it?"

    Seraphine frowned. "Pretty bad. Your face looks like it got run over by a carriage, and you''re covered in cuts and bruises. Not to mention that nasty gash on your chest."

    Levy grunted, struggling to sit up. "Help me up."

    She helped him to his feet, and he swayed unsteadily for a moment before catching his balance.

    "Thanks," he said, still sounding groggy. "What about you? Are you okay?"

    "I''ve got a headache, but I''ll live," Seraphine replied, gingerly touching her scalp again. "I''m more surprised that they didn''t kill us."

    Strange. Unhallowed beings never left anyone alive, let alone Hunters who had dared to fight against them. There had been no records of this happening before. But why did they spare them? It didn''t make any sense.

    "You think they were playing with us?" Levy asked.

    Seraphine shook her head. "No... They could have killed us easily if they wanted to. But they didn''t. I think it was a warning."

    "Unhallowed don''t give out warnings," Levy argued.

    "I know. But it''s the only thing that makes sense," Seraphine replied. She turned away, staring at the grimy wall of the alleyway.

    That woman from before... the crowd in the tavern had referred to her as Nightingale, but the woman briefly referred to herself as Aubrey when she argued with the gargoyle.

    Aubrey?

    Seraphine couldn''t shake the feeling that she had heard that name before. It was as if something nagged at the back of her mind, trying to break through the fog of pain and exhaustion that clouded her thoughts.

    "Does the name ''Aubrey'' ring any bells?" Seraphine asked.

    Levy looked at her, frowning. "I don''t think so. Why?"

    Seraphine sighed, running a hand through her hair. "It''s probably nothing. But it feels like I''ve heard that name somewhere before. Maybe it''s just my imagination."

    "It''s probably not important," Levy said, looking around. "Let''s just focus on getting out of here."

    "Right," Seraphine agreed, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. "We need to report this to our respective guilds. And maybe take some time to recover first."

    "I still got my athame, at least," Levy said, using the cane to support his weight. "And some ofuda left. How about you?"

    Seraphine checked her belt and sighed. "I''ve still got my blade, but it looks like they took everything else."

    Levy let out a bitter laugh. "Figures. Bastards probably wanted to sell our stuff."

    Seraphine closed her eyes, letting out a sigh. "Come on. Let''s get out of here before anyone else decides to rob us."

 Chapter 37: The Evil That You Know

    Helena Voss... The Luminous Consortium... These names bounced around Aubrey''s mind as she roamed Thornhaven, exploring the side streets and alleyways that ran alongside the more prominent thoroughfares.

    It had been two weeks since their encounter with the two Hunters, and things had returned to a state of relative normalcy¡ªas far as what was normal for Unhallowed beings, at least. Their last performance had gone well, and no surprise attackers had shown up to ruin the evening. It seemed like those Hunters had either given up or moved on to other prey.

    Good. One less thing to worry about.

    It was also a bit of a shame, though. If only they weren''t trying to kill her. Those two¡ªSeraphine and Levy¡ªlooked cute together. A good-looking girl with a nice figure paired with a guy who... didn''t look too shabby. He wasn''t really Aubrey''s type¡ªhandsome and boyish¡ªbut he had the whole ''awkward nerd'' thing going on.

    Aubrey could appreciate that. But she preferred bad boys with beards and rugged, masculine faces over nice guys with smooth, pretty features. Still, there was something to be said for the wholesomeness of cute couples. Even if they did want her dead.

    Not that it mattered anymore. She doubted they would be back anytime soon, if at all.

    Under the advisement of Thaddeus, she had laid low and limited her excursions outside of the cathedral after the event, spending most of her time either practicing her music or exploring the many nooks and crannies of the great building''s interior.

    However, it wasn''t in her nature to sit idle. As the saying went, an idle mind was the devil''s workshop.

    Aubrey kicked a pebble across the cobblestones, her thoughts returning to Helena Voss. Finding that woman was at the top of her list of priorities right now. She had spent most of the past few days searching for any clues as to her whereabouts, but so far, she hadn''t found anything useful.

    She couldn''t just keep asking around about her without drawing unwanted attention to herself¡ªeven if she disguised herself with the Facsimile Mask. She had tried talking to some of the locals and even stopped by a tavern or two, but nobody seemed to know anything about her.

    Whoever Helena Voss was, she wasn''t a prominent figure like Julian Blackwell. And that made her much harder to track down. But it wasn''t impossible. Aubrey just needed to keep looking.

    She took out the parchment that she had found in Julian''s study, examining marks that denoted the locations of several ley lines within Thornhaven. According to the notes, these places were used to charge the crystals that powered the Luminal Projectors.

    If she had a shot at finding someone related to Helena or the Luminous Consortium, it would be at one of those places. But where to start? She had no idea how to use this kind of information, let alone how to navigate through Thornhaven''s winding streets.

    "Okay... So if I''m reading this right, the nearest ley line marker should be about a block from here," she muttered, studying the map carefully. "I guess I''ll just start there and see what happens."

    It wasn''t much of a plan, but it was better than sitting around doing nothing. And maybe she''d get lucky and stumble across some clue that would lead her to Helena. It was worth a shot.

    Following the crude map scribbled onto the parchment, Aubrey navigated the streets of Thornhaven, heading in the direction of the nearest ley line marker. She passed by a few other people along the way, but nobody paid her much attention. With the help of the Facsimile Mask, she blended in seamlessly with the crowd.

    After about fifteen minutes of walking, she found herself standing in front of a small park. The grass was overgrown, and the stone path that wound through it was cracked and covered in moss. A rusted metal bench sat next to a broken fountain, its water long since dried up. It looked like it hadn''t been used in years.

    "I guess this is the place," Aubrey said, examining the map again. "But where''s the marker?"

    She stepped into the park, peering around. After a moment, she spotted a small stone plaque jutting out from the grass. She made her way toward it, brushing aside the weeds that had grown up around it.

    "Huh. I guess that''s what this thing is," she mused, inspecting the marker. It was covered in runes and arcane symbols that she couldn''t decipher, but she had a feeling they were related to the ley lines.

    Now what? Did she just wait here until someone showed up? That seemed like a long shot.

    She sat on the bench, leaning back against the cold metal and propping her feet up on the cracked stone rim of the fountain. If she was going to wait, she might as well make herself comfortable.

    <hr>

    Time passed, and Aubrey started to get bored.

    Aubrey stood up from the bench and paced back and forth in front of the marker, trying to come up with a better plan. Maybe she should go to one of the other locations on the map and see if anyone turned up there instead. It was worth a try, at least.

    Just as she was about to leave, she noticed a familiar figure approaching from the opposite direction¡ªSeraphine.

    Aubrey quickly ducked behind a tree, peering around the trunk to watch the Huntress.

    Seraphine looked different from when they had last met. She seemed more relaxed, almost at ease with her surroundings. She had removed her Hunter''s coat, revealing a more casual outfit beneath it. Unlike the usual dresses Aubrey had seen women wear in this period, Seraphine wore pants¡ªa pair of slim-fitting trousers tucked into knee-high leather boots. Her hair was loose, falling around her shoulders in soft waves. She wasn''t wearing any makeup either, her face bare and free of adornment.

    She took a seat on the bench, crossing her legs and closing her eyes. She then reached into a pouch at her side, pulling out a small runestone and holding it in her hand.

    Aubrey watched with interest, wondering what the Huntress was doing. Was she meditating?

    For a moment, it seemed like she wasn''t doing anything, but then Aubrey noticed a faint glow emanating from Seraphine''s body. It was subtle, but it was definitely there.

    As she watched, Aubrey could have sworn she saw the runes on the stone pulsate in response to the glow. Was Seraphine doing that? How?

    Aubrey leaned forward, her curiosity piqued. She wanted to get a closer look at what Seraphine was doing. She tiptoed toward the tree next to the one she had been hiding behind, crouching behind it and peering around the trunk.

    The girl''s face seemed more relaxed than before, as if she was in some kind of trance. Despite the beating Cedric had given her, she looked much better than the last time they''d met. She''d healed up nicely. Not even a scratch.

    Hunters must have access to a wide array of alchemical remedies for their injuries. Or perhaps they''ve devised other ways of treating their wounds?

    Thaddeus had mentioned that humans didn''t possess inherent supernatural abilities. They needed tools and other mediums to channel their mana through. That runestone Seraphine had could be a conduit of some kind, allowing her to tap into the ley lines.

    Aubrey wasn''t entirely sure what she was doing, but it seemed to require concentration.

    Now that she had a good look at her, Aubrey couldn''t help but notice that Seraphine was rather pretty. She had a soft, delicate face with a light smattering of freckles across her nose. Her lips were full and pink, her lashes long and thick. Even without makeup, she was strikingly beautiful.

    Did she have another one of those bangle that detected Unhallowed beings around her? Aubrey had confiscated the one Seraphine had worn during their previous encounter, but that didn''t mean she hadn''t obtained another.

    No. Seraphine''s wrists were bare. If she did have one, it would have to be concealed elsewhere.

    Aubrey took another step forward, moving behind the tree next to Seraphine''s bench. She crouched down, peering around the trunk to watch the girl.

    After watching for a few more minutes, Aubrey decided to take a chance. She stepped out from behind the tree and made her way toward the bench. Her Veil of the Hidden Stretto ability masked her approach, keeping her steps silent and her presence hidden.

    She sat down next to Seraphine, careful not to disturb the Huntress.

    Seraphine remained still and focused on her meditative state, her expression serene. She seemed completely unaware of Aubrey''s presence.

    Aubrey leaned back against the bench and removed the Facsimile Mask, getting comfortable. She needed to be patient and wait for Seraphine to finish whatever she was doing before they could talk.

    Several minutes passed before Seraphine finally opened her eyes, blinking a few times as if coming out of a deep sleep. She stretched her arms over her head, then turned to look at Aubrey¡ªher eyes widening into saucers as Aubrey''s grinning face came into view.

    "Sup."

    As Seraphine reached for the dagger at her hip, Aubrey dove on top of her, grabbing both wrists and pinning her to the bench.

    "Now, now, let''s not do anything hasty," Aubrey said, her tone playful. "I just want to talk."

    Seraphine glared up at her, struggling against Aubrey''s grasp. "Unhand me!"

    "I don''t think so," Aubrey replied, tightening her grip.

    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    Woah, this girl is strong for a normal human.

    Not that she looked weak. But this girl had muscles like an Olympic gymnast. Her body was lean and toned, like she spent most of her time doing acrobatics and sprinting through obstacle courses. The feeling of her toned body pressed against her own, their chests mashed together... sent a jolt of heat through Aubrey''s body, making her blush.

    Seraphine glared at her, but ceased struggling. "What do you want?"

    "You know, I can''t help but notice how relaxed you look now compared to when we last met," Aubrey said, giving her a playful smirk. "I''m guessing you''ve come to terms with the fact that we didn''t kill you? That''s a good thing, isn''t it?"

    Seraphine''s eyes narrowed. "Get off me."

    "Fine," Aubrey said, releasing Seraphine''s wrists and climbing off of her. "But if you try anything funny, I won''t hesitate to throw you back down."

    Seraphine sat up, rubbing her wrists and scooting as far away from Aubrey as possible. She gave her a sidelong glare, her gaze darting toward the runestone she had dropped in their struggle.

    "Looking for this?" Aubrey asked, picking up the stone and tossing it to her.

    Seraphine caught it, quickly slipping it back into her pouch.

    Aubrey sighed, leaning back against the bench and stretching her arms over her head. "I didn''t come here to fight," she said. "I just wanted to talk. You know, to clear the air."

    "You think I''m going to listen to anything you have to say?" Seraphine retorted, still glaring at her.

    "You''ve already listened this far," Aubrey replied, smirking. "Why stop now?"

    Seraphine turned away, crossing her arms over her chest. "Fine. Talk."

    Aubrey frowned, noticing the shift in her attitude. Was she offended that she had grabbed her? It was only to stop her from attacking. Still, that kind of brazen confidence is what made this girl so interesting. Her whole vibe reminded her of an aristocratic tomboy. She was feisty, cute, and hot all at once¡ªsprinkling a bit of Noblesse Oblige into the mix.

    "You''re cute when you''re mad," Aubrey said, grinning.

    Seraphine arched an eyebrow at her, as if caught off guard by the compliment. "Excuse me?"

    "You''re cute when you''re mad," Aubrey repeated, undeterred by Seraphine''s annoyed expression. "But I''m guessing you already know that, right? I mean, it''s pretty obvious."

    "Is that why you''re here?" Seraphine asked, her tone icy. "To tell me I''m cute?"

    "It was a coincidence, actually," Aubrey said, shrugging. "I just happened to notice you while I was wandering around the district."

    Seraphine scoffed. "I find that hard to believe."

    "Oh? Why''s that?"

    "Because I''ve seen what you can do," Seraphine replied. "You''re not the type to just ''happen'' upon anyone. You''re far too cunning for that."

    Aubrey''s eyes lit up from the compliment. She had been called many things before, but never ''cunning.''

    "You think I''m cunning?" she asked, smiling brightly. "Thanks! I like to think I''m pretty smart too."

    Seraphine blinked at her, clearly taken aback by Aubrey''s response. Her scowl faltered, replaced by a look of confusion.

    "What? Did you expect me to deny it?" Aubrey asked, still grinning.

    "I... don''t know what to make of you," Seraphine admitted, shaking her head. "You''re not like any Unhallowed I''ve encountered before."

    Aubrey raised an eyebrow. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

    Seraphine studied her for a moment, then sighed. "It''s neither," she said. "It''s just... confusing."

    "Well, I''m sure you''ll figure it out eventually," Aubrey said, leaning back and crossing her legs. "Until then, I guess you''ll just have to keep dealing with my ''confusing'' presence."

    Seraphine frowned. "What do you mean?"

    "I mean, I have no intention of letting you kill me," Aubrey said, grinning again. "But I also don''t want to kill you or your friend. So we''re going to be seeing a lot more of each other. At least until you give up on hunting us down."

    Seraphine stared at her, disbelief written across her face. "You can''t be serious."

    Aubrey gave her an exaggerated shrug. "Sorry, but that''s how it''s going to be," she said. "So I suggest you get used to me, because I''m not going anywhere."

    Seraphine continued staring at her, as if waiting for the punchline. When none came, she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "You''re mad."

    "Maybe a little," Aubrey admitted. "But that doesn''t mean I''m wrong."

    Seraphine turned away, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. She ran a hand through her hair, shaking her head again.

    Aubrey watched her with amusement, noting the subtle twitch of her hands as they rested on her knees. The girl wanted to punch something, but she had too much self-control to give in to the impulse.

    "Look, I get it¡ªwe got off on the wrong foot," Aubrey said, leaning forward and resting her elbows on her knees. "But you attacked us first. We were just defending ourselves."

    Seraphine''s eyes narrowed, but she didn''t say anything.

    "So... let''s call a truce," Aubrey continued, giving her an encouraging smile. "What do you say?"

    "Just because you''re acting friendly doesn''t absolve you from all the people you''ve murdered," Seraphine snapped.

    "I''ve only killed those who attacked me," Aubrey retorted, her own eyes narrowing. "And the only ones I''ll kill are the ones responsible for turning me into this, and all those who follow their will."

    "Right," Seraphine said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "And you expect me to believe you wouldn''t murder anyone else? Even if they posed no threat to you?"

    "Why would I do that?" Aubrey asked, frowning. "If I went around killing everyone on a whim, who''d be left to watch me and my band perform? Or fill my stomach with delicious food and alcohol? Or look at me with those awe-struck faces of admiration when I sing?"

    Seraphine seemed about to retort but hesitated, thinking better of it. Her expression softened, the hostility in her gaze dissipating. "I suppose... you have a point."

    "Right?! I''m a musician first, an Unhallowed second," Aubrey said, pointing at her. "If anything, you should be grateful I''m not an evil monster that goes around killing people for no reason."

    Seraphine pursed her lips, mulling over Aubrey''s words. After a moment, she let out another sigh. "Fine. I''ll... take your proposal under consideration."

    Aubrey grinned, clapping her hands together. "That''s all I ask!"

    Seraphine eyed her with suspicion, but there was also a hint of curiosity in her gaze. "So... what happens now?"

    "Well, if you''re interested, I could tell you my story," Aubrey offered. "Maybe it''ll help convince you that we''re not all monsters."

    Seraphine stared at her for a moment, considering the offer. Then, she nodded. "Very well. I''m listening."

    "Great! So, it all started when I died..."

    <hr>

    Seraphine leaned forward, listening intently as Aubrey told her story. She had to admit, the woman was a good storyteller. Her voice was captivating, and she had a way of painting vivid pictures with her words.

    Aubrey had opted for simplicity, providing enough details to illustrate the event without embellishing or dramatizing her narrative.

    "...And that''s how I ended up here," Aubrey finished. "Well, there''s more to it, but you get the gist."

    Seraphine remained silent for a moment, processing everything she had just heard. It was a lot to take in.

    Aubrey Sinclair... The diva Mrs. Coltridge had mentioned to her one morning over breakfast. The one who had died during her concert. That Aubrey Sinclair.

    She had never seen her perform until recently, but she knew the name. The infamous diva of Mordenstradt''s aristocratic elite. Aubrey''s face and voice had graced many advertisements and flyers around the city, showing off her beautiful appearance and incredible talent.

    Seraphine had never paid much attention to those advertisements, but she''d heard others talking about the woman''s skills. But Aubrey''s appearance now didn''t quite match what she remembered from those posters and promotional materials. Not exactly. The Aubrey in front of her looked younger, closer to Seraphine''s own age than the 30s she seemed to have been before her death.

    Aubrey smiled, leaning back against the bench. "Well? What do you think?"

    Seraphine opened her mouth, but no words came out. She wasn''t sure what to say. The details were too specific to be a lie. Names that an Unhallowed wouldn''t normally know or be privy to. Her descriptions of events and places... it all sounded too real to be made up.

    Julian Blackwell, Luminous Consortium, the Iron Circle, and a conspiracy to influence the masses using the diva''s music and devices embedded with crystals that influenced those who heard or seen it¡ªthere''s no way she could have known these things unless she was telling the truth.

    But then again, Seraphine had only encountered a few Unhallowed who were originally human before their corruption, so perhaps this was par for the course. Her brief encounters with them had always resulted in violence. They hadn''t exactly been inclined to converse with her outside of spouting jibberish and trying to tear her throat out.

    They had all been monsters¡ªferal creatures driven by instinct and hunger, but there was nothing feral about this woman. In fact, she seemed remarkably normal for an Unhallowed.

    Aubrey giggled at her confusion, seeming to enjoy her discomposure. "Come on, don''t leave me hanging."

    Seraphine shook herself out of her thoughts. "It''s... it''s a lot to take in," she admitted.

    "I''m sure it is," Aubrey replied. "That''s why I tried to keep it short and simple."

    Seraphine looked at her, her gaze hardening. "If you expect me to feel sorry for you, you''re wasting your time. Your death may have been tragic, but you''ve revived as an Unhallowed, which means you''re corrupted and dangerous."

    Aubrey''s smile faltered. "Wow. Rude much?"

    "I''m just being honest," Seraphine said, crossing her arms. "You can''t deny that your nature has changed. Outside of otherwordly entities, Unhallowed are beings created through acts of evil or blasphemy, condemned to wander the land with twisted desires and bestial instincts¡ªso much so that they defy the natural laws of this world. Their existence threatens the sanctity of all life. There''s no way around it."

    Aubrey stared at her, then let out a long sigh. "You Hunters sure are tough nuts to crack."

    "This isn''t a joke," Seraphine snapped. "You''re not human anymore. And as long as you persist in this state, you''re a threat to everyone around you. It doesn''t matter how civilized you might seem now. Eventually, your hunger will consume you, and you''ll become like all the rest."

    "What if I only hunger for emotions?" Aubrey asked.

    "I''m sorry?"

    "What if I only want to feed on emotions?" Aubrey repeated. "You know, fear, sadness, anger, joy, despair¡ªthe good stuff. I can feed on them without killing people or leaving them catatonic."

    Seraphine blinked, caught off guard by the question. It had never occurred to her that an Unhallowed could feed on something other than flesh or spirit. Rare were ones like the Murmuros Leviathan who fed on the knowledge and sanity of its victims, leaving behind nothing but mindless husks.

    An Unhallowed that fed on emotions without killing their prey... it was unheard of.

    "I... don''t know."

    "Well, that''s not a ''no,''" Aubrey said, giving her a hopeful smile. "So maybe there''s hope for me after all?"

    Seraphine sighed, rubbing her temples. "This is ridiculous."

    Aubrey chuckled, eventually standing up, and stretching her arms over her head. "Well, I''ve taken up enough of your time," she said, grinning at her. "And I still have other places to go. Places where I might find more information about what happened to me."

    Seraphine eyed her warily. "Where are you going?"

    "Oh, nowhere in particular," Aubrey replied with a nonchalant shrug. "Just... around."

    Seraphine looked like she wanted to ask more, but she held her tongue. "Fine. But don''t think this means I trust you."

    Aubrey gave her an exaggerated bow. "Of course not. But if you''re really curious to verify my story, you can investigate those places for yourself. I''m sure you''ll find something that corroborates what I''ve told you."

    She gave Seraphine one last look before turning to leave, her gaze turning serious. "Unhallowed aren''t the only ones you should be wary of, little Huntress. Those with influence and power¡ªpeople like Julian Blackwell¡ªcan do far more harm than any Unhallowed could ever hope to accomplish."

    With that, Aubrey put on her mask, her visage becoming that of a stranger''s, and left Seraphine alone on the bench.

 Chapter 38: Through the Looking Glass

    Aubrey felt... good. Confessing her story to Seraphine had been oddly therapeutic, all things considered. Granted, she had held back some important details¡ªlike not being the Aubrey from this world¡ªbut it was still cathartic. The look on the girl''s face when she''d realized she wasn''t lying was priceless too. She wished she could have taken a picture of it.

    Seraphine didn''t trust her, of course. She wouldn''t be much of a Hunter if she did. But at least she''d given her some semblance of credence. That had to count for something, right?

    Either way, it was enough for now.

    Maybe they''ll even become friends in time? Who knows? Stranger things have happened.

    If there was one thing she''d learned from this conversation, it was that Seraphine was very much a woman of principle. She might not believe everything Aubrey said, but she wouldn''t let that sway her from pursuing the truth. She was like a bloodhound¡ªtenacious and determined. It was endearing in its own way.

    More importantly, having a third party investigate the Luminous Consortium and The Iron Circle would be extremely helpful in exposing their plot. She couldn''t afford to draw too much attention to herself without revealing her cards to her enemies.

    Having someone with access to resources beyond what she could obtain on her own could only be a boon. She couldn''t afford to draw too much attention to herself without revealing her cards to her enemies. But if Seraphine could do the legwork for her...

    It would also be nice to have a friend who wasn''t an Unhallowed. Someone her own age, or at least close enough, to talk to about normal things. That''d be a nice change of pace. And if Seraphine ended up siding with her in the end... well, that would just make things even easier.

    As Aubrey walked through the district, she let her mind wander, thinking about all the places she''d yet to explore. She hadn''t even gotten to the good parts of Thornhaven yet. This whole place was a labyrinth of dark streets and secret passageways, with various interconnected subdistricts leading off into the unknown.

    There had to be some kind of information broker around here, right? Someone who could help her fill in the blanks.

    Aubrey continued exploring, eventually finding herself walking down a familiar backstreet¡ªthe same one where she heard the strange melody that brought her to a narrow plaza where a masked street performer wearing a dark robe performed for a group of people.

    Just as she recalled the tunes, the same hauntingly beautiful melody permeated the air, drawing her attention to the crowd of people gathered at the far end of the plaza.

    The same masked figure and the quintet of small figures draped in similar fabrics, just as before. The only difference was that this time, fewer people were watching the performance.

    As the melody continued to play, the performer swayed and moved their body in a mesmerizing dance, their arms twirling and whirling with an otherworldly grace. Meanwhile, the small figures moved around them in perfect sync, dancing to the music performed by an unseen choir.

    It was surreal¡ªthe music, the movement, everything. Aubrey couldn''t tear her eyes away from the spectacle.

    She took a few steps closer, then stopped, feeling as if she''d just walked into a dream. Everything around her seemed to blur together, fading away into a kaleidoscope of colors and sounds. She felt dizzy, disoriented, like she was falling through a void.

    Aubrey blinked, shaking her head to clear the cobwebs. When she opened her eyes again, the world had returned to normal, and the crowd was gone.

    Huh. Did they just... disappear?

    She looked around, but the only ones left in the plaza were the masked performer¡ªwho now stood still, facing her¡ªand the small figures, who continued their synchronized dance.

    "Um..." Aubrey said, not knowing what else to say.

    The performer bowed deeply, then held out a hand toward her. The small figures stopped dancing and also bowed, their arms outstretched in a similar gesture.

    Is this an invitation? Or a challenge?

    Aubrey looked at them for a moment, unsure of what to do. Then, curiosity getting the better of her, she stepped forward and took the performer''s hand.

    To her surprise, the hand she grasped wasn''t the warm and pliable flesh of a person''s limb but the hard, segmented wooden joints of a mannequin. She nearly recoiled from the shock, but the performer''s grip on her was firm.

    The small figures gathered around her legs, wrapping their thin, almost insectoid limbs around her thighs and calves. Their embrace wasn''t constricting, but it was firm enough to make it clear they had no intention of letting her go.

    "What¡ª" Aubrey began, but the words died in her throat as the masked figure suddenly grabbed her shoulders and spun her around, its hands pressing down on her back. She felt herself being pushed forward, guided by the small figures holding onto her legs.

    It''s leading me somewhere.

    Aubrey let herself be led, following the directions of the small figures and the push of the masked figure''s hands. She passed through an archway that led into a narrow passage, where she saw several doors lining both sides of the walls. Each door had a symbol carved into its surface¡ªa sigil of sorts.

    The masked figure stopped in front of one of the doors, reaching out and placing a hand against the sigil carved into its surface. It glowed briefly before fading away, and the door swung open, revealing a dark room beyond.

    The small figures released their hold on Aubrey''s legs, and she stepped through the doorway. The masked figure followed close behind, letting the door swing shut behind them.

    Once inside, Aubrey found herself standing in a circular chamber with no windows or other exits. The only illumination came from a single orb of crimson light suspended above a table in the center of the room. On the table sat a wooden box, intricately carved and polished to a mirror shine.

    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

    Aubrey looked at the masked figure, who had moved to stand beside the table. The performer placed a hand on top of the box, then gestured for her to approach.

    "Um... okay?" Aubrey said hesitantly, taking a few steps forward. She stood in front of the table, looking down at the box.

    The masked figure nodded once, then lifted the lid of the box, revealing a glass orb nestled within a velvet-lined interior. The orb was filled with a swirling, multicolored liquid that seemed to glow with an inner light. It reminded Aubrey of a lava lamp¡ªthe way it moved and shifted in constant motion.

    As she stared at the orb, the small figures gathered around the masked figure''s feet, their hands folded neatly in front of them. They stood motionless, watching her with those glassy eyes of theirs.

    Aubrey swallowed nervously. She had a bad feeling about this, but curiosity got the better of her once more. Reaching out, she placed a hand on top of the orb.

    Instantly, the liquid inside the orb began to swirl faster, swirling and churning until it became a vortex of colors. Images flashed through Aubrey''s mind¡ªflashes of faces, places, and things. It was like watching a movie on fast-forward, but somehow, she understood what she was seeing.

    She saw a blindingly white room with a single chair in the center, its occupant... a young girl with disheveled red hair... strapped down by leather straps. The person''s face was obscured by a blindfold, but she could tell that the woman was in pain¡ªher body twisted and wracked by tremors, sweat dripping from her skin.

    An o-ring held her mouth open as she whimpered, but no one responded to her cries. Tubes and wires protruded from various parts of her body, mainly around her neck and chest, some connected to machines while others snaked into the floor or ceiling. They fed her nutrients and fluids and other things that kept her alive.

    The girl struggled against her bonds, tears streaming down her face.

    There were men in white coats around her, standing in a semi-circle. She couldn''t make out their faces, but they seemed to be speaking to each other in hushed voices.

    One of them, a woman with dark hair tied back in a bun, reached out and placed a hand on the girl''s head, stroking her hair gently.

    "It''ll all be over soon," she said in a soothing voice. "Just hang on a little longer. Now... try that falsetto once more."

    Aubrey snatched her hand away from the orb as if it burned her, taking several steps back from the table.

    "What the hell..." she gasped, shaking her head to clear the visions from her mind. The small figures continued to stare at her, unmoving. The masked figure stood motionless, their hand still resting on the lid of the box.

    Aubrey looked at them for a moment, then asked in a trembling voice, "Who are you?"

    The masked figure didn''t respond, remaining silent. It continued to stare at her with those empty sockets, its expression hidden behind the porcelain mask.

    "Answer me!" Aubrey shouted, her voice echoing through the chamber. "What did you show me?!"

    Again, the masked figure remained silent, their posture unchanging. The only sound in the room was the soft hum of the orb and the gentle whisper of the liquid inside it as it swirled and churned.

    Aubrey stared at them for a moment, then turned and ran out of the room, pushing past the small figures and out into the alley.

    She kept running, her heart pounding in her chest, until she reached the end of the alleyway. Then she stopped, leaning against a wall and panting heavily. Her legs trembled, and her head swam with the visions from the orb.

    Who was that girl? What had they done to her? And why did it seem like... Aubrey knew her?¡ªwait... it couldn''t be¡­

    The young girl in the vision...she looked like... a younger version of herself from this world. Aubrey''s eyes widened, realization dawning on her. Was that... her? Had she been that girl? Did that mean she had suffered that torture and torment? It had felt so real. That pain... those emotions... She could still feel them.

    Aubrey sank to her knees, her breathing ragged. She grasped her head, digging her fingers into her scalp. A strangled cry escaped her lips as she fell forward, curling up into a ball on the cobblestone ground.

    A roiling sea of dark thoughts and emotions swirled inside her. She wanted to scream, to rage, to tear down the walls around her and destroy everything in sight. Instead, she bit her lips, gritting her teeth so hard she tasted blood. Her body trembled, but she held herself back, forcing down the storm inside her.

    If she let it loose now, she might never stop.

    What did she do during moments like this? She could play her guitar, but she left it back at the cathedral. The alternative...

    She took deep breaths, steadying herself. Slowly, she stood up, leaning against the wall for support. As she made her way back to the small plaza connecting a nexus of narrow alleyways, she hummed an old familiar tune from her memories, keeping the melody steady in her mind. It helped calm her nerves and focus her thoughts.

    Her voice grew louder as she walked, humming becoming singing. She needed the release.

    As Aubrey sang, the words flowed out of her, rising from the depths of her soul. Each note resonated with the emotions inside her¡ªa catharsis that cleansed her mind and spirit. Her voice carried across the empty streets, echoing through the deserted alleys. It was a haunting sound¡ªboth beautiful and sad at the same time.

    It didn''t matter if anyone heard her or not. She didn''t care. She just needed to sing. To let the music flow through her and carry away the darkness inside her.

    As Aubrey continued to sing, her voice grew stronger and clearer, taking on an almost ethereal quality. She closed her eyes, letting the melody envelop her as she surrendered herself to the music.

    She sang until her throat was raw and her lungs burned. She sang until there were no more words left inside her. And when the last note faded away, she stood there for a moment, letting out a shaky breath. She looked up at the sky, which had grown dark with clouds. The air smelled of rain, and thunder rumbled in the distance.

    <You''ve acquired a small amount of experience>

    The system message appeared in front of her face, snapping her out of her daze. Well, at least something good came out of it.

    <You''ve acquired a small amount of experience>

    <You''ve acquired a small amount of experience>

    <You''ve acquired a small amount of experience>

    Huh? Delayed much?

    The only time she received several system messages at once were during Unhallowed Harmony''s concerts. No one was around, but did people hear her singing somewhere? Probably from the surrounding buildings'' acoustic. No one bothered to open their windows or doors to applaud her, so she assumed that must be it.

    Oh well. Experience is experience.

    Aubrey ran a hand through her hair and sighed.

    "I need a drink," she muttered to herself, pushing off the wall and making her way toward the main street.

    Suddenly, terrified screams began to echo through the alleys around her, coming from multiple directions.

    What the...

    Aubrey ran toward the sound, stopping when she reached an intersection between two alleyways. She peered around the corner, spotting several people fleeing from an apartment building down one of the paths.

    From the doorway emerged a man, his body twisting and morphing into something monstrous. His limbs elongated, growing thick and leathery, and his head stretched into a grotesquely misshapen shape. His back sprouted tentacles that writhed and squirmed.

    He lumbered after the people, moving with a jerky, ungainly gait. His mouth opened wide, revealing rows of sharp teeth and a long, forked tongue that lashed out at those too slow to escape.

    More screams erupted from nearby as people raced down the alleys. Another monster appeared, shambling out of another doorway. And another. And another. They all looked similar, their bodies morphing and shifting into twisted abominations.

    Aubrey backed away, her eyes widening in horror. She had seen this before¡ªduring that underground fighting arena. But this was different. There were more of them, and they seemed to be emerging from everywhere at once.

    What''s going on?!

 Chapter 39: Good Samaritan

    The four abominations shambled after the fleeing people, their misshapen forms twisting and contorting with each step. They moved with an ungainly gait, lurching forward and dragging their feet across the cobblestone ground. Each of their grotesque mouths opened wide, revealing rows of sharp teeth and forked tongues that lashed out at their prey.

    Screams echoed through the alleyways as people fled in terror, pushing and shoving each other in their haste to escape. A woman fell to the ground, her ankle twisted beneath her, and cried out for help. One of the abominations loomed over her, its mouth opening impossibly wide.

    Aubrey lunged forward and grabbed the woman by the arm, hauling her up and dragging her out of the way as the monster''s jaws snapped closed on empty air.

    "Run!" she yelled, shoving the woman in the direction of safety. "Get out of here!"

    The woman staggered away, her eyes wide with fear, and fled down the alleyway.

    Aubrey turned back to the abominations, which had begun shambling toward her. Their bodies were twisted and grotesque, covered in jagged spines and gnarled ridges of bone. Their hands and feet ended in thick claws that tore furrows in the cobblestone ground. Each step left a trail of oozing slime that reeked of rot and decay.

    The sound of screams and panic faded behind her, replaced by the relentless march of those grotesque, leathery feet and the slurping rasp of their inhuman tongues.

    Aubrey moved further down the alley, forcing them into single-file. She wasn''t going to give them any room to maneuver, especially with her back against a wall.

    [Harmonic Synesthesia Active]

    The grating shrieks of a klaxon horn began to sound in Aubrey''s mind, filling her head with an earsplitting wail. Like the first abomination she had encountered, the music that guided the sounds of their movements had a mixture of dark ambiance and industrial. The visual cues that guided their actions warped as the creatures staggered drunkenly about, struggling to maintain their coordination.

    "Not today, motherfuckers!" Aubrey snarled, leaping into the air and delivering a flying drop-kick to the leading abomination. Her feet slammed into its chest with a thunderous impact, knocking it back into the abominations following behind. The blow sent it crashing into the cobblestone ground, its body rippling and contorting.

    [Skill: "Shove of the Heartbeat''s Force" Activated!: Cooldown: 8 seconds]

    [Successful Strike: "Staccato!"]

    Aubrey twisted in mid-air, planting her feet against the side of the nearest wall. She pushed off with a sharp, percussive note and launched herself back at the creatures. Her momentum carried her forward, and she crashed into them once again, sending them staggering back further. She tumbled into a roll, and gracefully she came up on one knee.

    The creatures let out a feral hiss as they recovered and charged towards her. The klaxon of their movements faded away, no longer having the disorienting effect.

    The lead creature''s maw snapped at her, but Aubrey rolled to the side and popped back up, crouching in a fighting stance. It pivoted after her and opened its jaws to scream in rage, its maw dislocating almost like a snake, stretching out and baring more jagged, misshapen teeth. A forked tongue lashed out, narrowly missing her face as she danced away.

    This gave her a moment to take them all in. The creature leading the charge had elongated spines sticking out from its arms. A series of small tentacle-like feelers that opened like flowers lined the side of its head, intertwined with a pair of ram''s horns. Two sets of yellow eyes glowed behind its visage like tiny, perverted suns.

    The creature trailing behind had the same dark skin of an ebony leather that covered its lean, sinewy body. Spiny growths jutted out from its shoulders like deadly spikes, and its twisted face had no eyes, just an empty socket that oozed with pus. Its maw hung open, drooling black slime, revealing a set of gnarled fangs.

    The third and fourth... Aubrey didn''t know where to start with these two. She wasn''t even sure where to look because neither had heads.

    Their heads had been replaced with pulsating orifices¡ªa constantly churning, slurping vortex of tentacles, eyes, teeth, and writhing, slithering shapes. The stench coming off these things nearly made her puke, like walking into a sewer backed up by an industrial garbage treatment facility.

    One thing was clear¡ªshe had stupidly boxed herself in. The bright idea of using the alley to funnel the enemy was an unmitigated failure. They shuffled over each other in the tight space, becoming an incomprehensible mass of disgusting appendages.

    "Fuck... Fuck... FUCK!" Aubrey muttered to herself, staring up at the ungodly monsters approaching her. She wasn''t scared. Hell no. She''d fought one of these things before.

    But four... at the same time. And she didn''t have Hellion''s Cry on her. No guitar meant she had to rely on her fists and claws. The smart thing to do here would be to turn tail and run for it, but...

    "Shit!" she swore, dodging another of their clumsy attacks. "Fuckity, fucking¡ªAHHH!" Aubrey''s reflexes screamed, her senses prickling with danger as something wrapped around her leg. It happened too fast. The abomination with the tentacles had managed to get a hold of her in a blind spot while the others distracted her.

    Tentacles¡ªprehensile feelers intertwined with bits of hair, stringy filament, and ghastly ooze¡ªgrabbed onto her, nearly toppling her over. They wriggled and slithered up her thighs and around her waist. More of its appendages shot out at her arms, while its companions caught up from behind, crowding her against a wall.

    "Get the hell off me!" Aubrey screamed, activating her Shove of the Heartbeat''s Force Skill, unleashing a thunderclap-like noise. It struck the tentacle monster dead-on, slamming its body into the brick wall. Cracks formed on the surface, and the impact loosened its grip on her enough for her to break free.

    [Skill Combination: Genesis of the Illusive Mirage + Veil of the Hidden Stratto Activated! Cooldown: 20 seconds]

    A shimmering, translucent image of herself appeared before her, like a mirror reflection. It darted off ahead of her, moving in a direction she knew she couldn''t. The tentacles lashed out, smashing into the false Aubrey, causing it to shimmer and disappear like mist.

    Meanwhile, the real Aubrey dashed along the wall, using her momentum to kick off and run across the adjacent building. The monsters roared, slamming and scratching against the walls in an attempt to find her, but it was too late. She''d already disappeared into the shadows, her body fading from sight.

    "Nice!" she yelled from somewhere they couldn''t find, taking deep, gasping breaths. "That''s more like it!"

    But there was no time to rest. The abominations stalked the streets in search of prey, shambling past the empty storefronts and homes.

    Suddenly, she spotted two Gearbound Constables rushing towards them from one side of the street. The two automatons clanked and clattered in a blur of metallic gears. Sparks flew from the joints of their iron limbs as they ran at full tilt toward the enemy, batons extended and ready to attack.

    "Unhallowed threat detected!" the constables intoned in unison as they leaped at the nearest abomination. They swung their batons, striking the creature''s spiky shoulders.

    Aubrey couldn''t see the details clearly in the chaos of their strikes, but the automatons seemed to be holding their own against one of the monsters. However, the other three creatures had already spotted them. One of them rushed forward to join the battle while the other two turned away and lumbered into an alley, pursuing other targets.

    "Shit!" Aubrey swore under her breath, sprinting after them.

    Her eyes tracked one of them heading to the alley. Its thick, leathery feet clacked and slapped against the cobblestones as it barreled through the winding passages. Several people had escaped the area by then, but two laggards turned a corner, entering the monster''s line of sight.

    "Hey!" Aubrey shouted, trying to get the monster''s attention.

    The abomination ignored her, continuing toward its intended targets.

    Oh no you don''t!

    Aubrey leapt high, catching the eaves of a building. With a push, she flung herself higher, and her legs propelled her to a nearby rooftop. Her lithe form nimbly ran along the tops of the houses. She pounded down the wooden shingles, bounding off in a lateral lunge over the alley, landing in the monster''s path.

    "Okay, ugly. You asked for it!"

    She hunched over, clawed fingers digging into the cobblestone road for traction as her thighs strained with tension. Aubrey pushed off, driving herself into the beast with a full-on bull rush.

    "Go fly a kite, bitch!"

    The force of the collision slammed the abomination''s hideous frame against the wall, rocking it off its feet. She heard the cracks of multiple bones as she propelled its body off the ground with a series of sprints, hoisting it onto her shoulders.

    Aubrey grunted, straining against the abomination''s bulk, and whirled her hips to slam the monster into the street below. With a heavy crunch, it slammed face-first against the cobblestone ground, spilling its dark ichor in all directions.

    She backpedaled several steps, wheezing as she caught her breath, her boots sloshing in the putrid blood and fluids.

    The abomination twitched and spasmed, slowly pulling itself up, the tentacles around its mouth still moving. Its gaze¡ªwhich reminded Aubrey of a starved hound''s eyes, empty and with madness¡ªset on her. It snapped its jaws and clawed its way back towards her, enraged.

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

    "No fucking way," she gritted out, rising back into a fighting stance, her claws primed for another round of whoopass.

    Before they could resume the brawl, a blur of pale green fabric and auburn hair rushed past Aubrey''s side, meeting the monster''s advance halfway.

    Seraphine whirled like a dervish, her rapier lashing out in a blaze of light and shadow, leaving a trail of silver and gold behind her.

    Aubrey blinked in surprise, gawking at the young woman. She didn''t expect to meet her again on the same day. "Seraphine! What''re you doing here?!"

    "Protecting the people of this city," she responded between strikes, punctuating every sentence with a slash or thrust of her blade. "I should ask the same thing of you! Did you fancy fighting your own kind?"

    My own-WHAT?! Did she just compare me to this ugly-ass motherfucker?

    Aubrey almost screeched in response.

    Almost.

    "Hey, hey, HEY! Fuck you, bitch! Just because I''m an Unhallowed doesn''t make me one of these things!" she raged, gesturing to the abomination with a wide gesture. "I happened to be in the area when this mess started, and¡ª"

    "An unlucky coincidence, then." Seraphine''s blade wove in and out of the monster''s body in a glittering flurry, like an arc of falling starlight. Each strike sent dark ichor spraying through the air in glistening, crimson droplets. "If you must insist on assisting me, then kindly hold back and do not get in my way."

    What the¡ªBITCH! If not for these goddamn things, I''d teach you to respect your elders!

    Aubrey snorted a contemptuous laugh, landing by her side with an aerial reverse heel-turn, letting Seraphine lead. "Don''t worry. I wasn''t gonna take all your glory! But just so you know, there are three more of these things running loose! A couple of Gearbound Constables took two, but¡ª"

    "Levy went to help the Gearbounds, yes!" Seraphine took a defensive stance in front of Aubrey as she spoke. "If your words from earlier ring true, then you should find and engage the last one. Unless you prefer to leave it to the other denizens."

    The way she said ''denizens'' set Aubrey off again. "Fuck you, you little twerp!"

    She ignored Seraphine''s surprised squawk of protest as she took off running down another alley, looking for the final abomination. "I''ll show you! Just you wait, bitch!"

    With that parting retort, Aubrey hurried off down one of the side alleys.

    It didn''t take long for her to sniff out her quarry, a whiff of the noxious miasma filling her nostrils, leading her through a series of side streets. The sight that greeted her made Aubrey grimace¡ªtwo haggard women backing away in fear as an abomination closed in. The creature shambled toward them on all fours, its clawed hands scraping the ground.

    Aubrey shot forward, swearing under her breath and going all in on a kamikaze rush. She wrapped her arms around the abomination''s shoulders and flung herself against its back with a twist. The monster staggered under her weight, almost losing its balance, but it managed to steady itself as it lurched to a stop.

    "Run!" she screamed at the women, hoping they''d heard her. Her vision spun for a moment as her center of gravity shifted. Then the creature flung its spiky, barbed body upward, slamming into her.

    "AAARRRGGHH!" She slammed into a brick wall with a wet squelch, gasping for breath. Her claws gouged chunks of brick and mortar from the wall as she scrabbled for purchase. "Motherfuck¡ªACK!"

    Aubrey managed to hook a hand onto a protruding chunk of brick and twist around, locking her legs around the abomination''s head as she scrambled on top of its back. She sunk her claws into the abomination''s disgusting face, anchoring her perch on the writhing thing''s shoulders.

    [Ability: Veil of Dispair Activated! Duration: 24 seconds; Cooldown: 60 seconds]

    [Creatures within two meters will take necrotic damage every six seconds]

    Like a bull-riding champion, Aubrey held onto the squirming, spasming abomination''s head like it was the bucking bronco of her life. Her ability kicked in, causing a wispy shadowy mist to pour from her body, blanketing the area around her.

    The abomination gurgled in agony, thrashing about in an effort to shake her loose, but Aubrey held on with a desperate grasp. She yanked her claws back, digging them deep into the creature''s leathery flesh to steady herself.

    As she struggled to stay on, Aubrey clenched her jaw, wincing in pain as she felt her thighs and shins scraping and grinding against the hard, gritty edges of the monster''s skin. Her leather pants and boots provided some protection, but not enough. The monster''s stench made her stomach churn. She could feel bile rising in her throat, threatening to spill over.

    She started to gag. Her breath hitched as she tried to fight down the urge to retch. But the longer she clung to the wriggling, hissing, screeching creature, the harder it became. Finally, her stomach clenched, and she doubled over, her grip loosening. She vomited up everything she''d eaten today onto the monster''s head and down her lap.

    "Urk! Hk! Ga¡ªUUURRRPPPH!" She shuddered at the slimy feel of puke on her legs, nearly losing her balance and her hold on the thrashing creature. But Aubrey managed to maintain her perch and use one of the abomination''s spines as an impromptu handhold to regain her footing.

    [Ability: Veil of Dispair Activated! Duration: 24 seconds; Cooldown: 60 seconds]

    She clamped her legs tighter around the abomination''s neck and pressed the length of her forearms against its throat, squeezing with all of her strength. The abomination thrashed, sending waves of pain through her thighs as her flesh was abraded from the relentless movement.

    Her voice rang out clear and true, echoing throughout the alleyway. "Gotcha, motherfucker! Gonna... huff... wring your scrawny little neck!"

    Aubrey''s grip held, even as her thighs burned and the pain lanced through her shoulders as she yanked on the abomination''s head. With one last agonizing spasm, the abomination shuddered, collapsing face-first to the ground with a wet splat¡ªwhich also caused Aubrey to slam face-first into the road, too.

    "Fuck!" she cried out, spitting a mixture of dirt and blood from her mouth as she rose, taking a shaky step. Her entire body hurt. She glanced back down at the unmoving monster and back to herself.

    [You''ve acquired a small amount of experience]

    "Note to self..." Aubrey panted as she took in her surroundings, "never ever again do that... without my guitar."

    Blood soaked the legs of her pants, which were ripped and tattered, and there were long gashes running down her thighs where the abomination''s sharp flesh had sliced her open. Aubrey noticed how some of her threads had adhered to the beast''s slimy, oily flesh, like webbing.

    She looked on her backside and cursed out loud as she found the back of her pants nearly torn clean off, showing the partially clawed globes of her ass. She tried to adjust the tatters of her pants with her fingers, but to no avail. With no other choice, she removed her jacket and tied it around her waist for temporary cover.

    She examined herself for other injuries and groaned, rolling her shoulder in relief that it wasn''t dislocated or broken. She wasn''t about to thank Seraphine, but this could have gone much worse for her if it weren''t for that noble brat''s help.

    As if the thought itself conjured her, she heard footsteps from the end of the alley, and saw the young woman round the corner at a brisk walk. Aside from the exertion and adrenaline that must have flushed her face, the other woman seemed largely undamaged from her tussle.

    She re-sheathed her blade and called out in a questioning tone. "That is the last of the creatures, then?"

    "Tsk!" Aubrey let out an irritable sound as she sidestepped the prone monster in front of her. "It sure fucking looks like it, doesn''t it?"

    "Language!" Seraphine looked her over with an assessing gaze. "You appear... intact."

    "Gee, thanks," Aubrey remarked with a huff. "You can save the concern, Milady. I''m still alive."

    Seraphine wrinkled her nose, and Aubrey had to fight back a grin. It looked like even she wasn''t impervious to the abominations'' smell. She covered her nose, and Aubrey would have laughed at her expression if she weren''t in such pain.

    "So, what about those other two?" Aubrey asked, trying to change the subject.

    "My compatriot and the automatons ended the other creatures swiftly." She then let her hand fall to the side, approaching the corpse with caution. "I''ve never seen these types of Unhallowed before."

    "No?"

    Seraphine shook her head, a thoughtful expression on her face. "No, this is new."

    "What? Really? You sure? This is the second time I''ve seen these things come out of nowhere. Well... not really out of nowhere. People suddenly turned into these things"

    Seraphine arched a brow at her in question. "You know something."

    Aubrey just rolled her eyes. "Do I look like I do? You''re the one who''s supposed to know." She started to limp, flinching every few steps. "Don''t ask me to elaborate. You''re the Hunter here."

    The noblewoman watched her hobble past, then followed at a slower pace, her footsteps barely making a sound. The two of them fell into a strained silence as they made their way back to the main street. Aubrey held back a wince as the adrenaline ebbed away, leaving her feeling wrung out and exhausted.

    Once they were back on the main thoroughfare, she saw the ofuda-user¡ªLevy¡ªheading toward them, looking pretty banged up but far from dead. The young man brushed off dust and bits of debris from his coat and glanced their way. His eyes lit up as soon as he saw Seraphine, but then soured with annoyance once he saw Aubrey.

    Aubrey fought off the urge to throw something at him. That probably wouldn''t help her case here. Instead, she huffed and ignored him, turning away from his condescending glare.

    "Seraphine!" The other young man said, sounding relieved as he caught up to them. He looked over her for injuries and smiled once he saw none. "It appears I had little to worry about on your end."

    "Not a scratch," the noblewoman said, offering a polite nod.

    The look he gave Aubrey told her all she needed to know about the man''s thoughts about her. "Oh... you..."

    "Uh-huh," she shot back with a grunt. "That''s right."

    Aubrey went back to checking herself for wounds, gritting her teeth through the pain as she poked around for bruised ribs.

    Suddenly, an ofuda flew at her face¡ªslapping over her mouth like a band-aid on a zit.

    Several more ofuda rained upon her like a sticky paper mache, wrapping her wrists and ankles, binding them together in a flash.

    The entire process was so quick Aubrey couldn''t even react in time to dodge. By the time she regained her bearings, her arms and legs were held by the adhesive seals, held against her body like a straight jacket.

    Aubrey stared wide-eyed at her immobile body, then looked over to Seraphine in shock and indignation.

    The noblewoman shrugged back, a gesture of resignation. She gave her partner an annoyed glance but said nothing to stop him.

    "It''s her fault for letting her guard down around her enemies," Levy said, sighing as he dusted off his hands. "There! Now we can take her back to headquarters!"

    Aubrey mentally flipped him off.

    Seraphine shook her head with a tired sigh. "No. Let''s bring her to one of my safehouses. She would only get immediately executed if we take her to our superiors. There''s something unusual about her history, and I want to investigate this further."

    Levy turned to Seraphine and blinked owlishly at her, a dumb expression on his face. He turned back to Aubrey with a ponderous look on his face, staring at her from head to toe as if trying to discern whatever mystery was hidden within her.

    The idiot didn''t see how his eyes trailed over her figure a little too long, with a bit too much lecherousness behind it despite probably not intending any perversions. It was easy to spot lust in the eyes of someone who thought he had the moral high ground over a woman like her.

    If not for her body, she would have given him a right hook to his stupid face, which would have probably satisfied her quite a bit. Instead, she let her eyes glare daggers into the man and spat muffled curses under her breath.

    Levy blinked out of his trance and looked away, turning to Seraphine to listen to her instructions. "O-Oh. Sure... Yes. Right away. Shall we use one of the carriage compartments? My carriage isn''t far from here. I think it should have enough space to hold this... woman..."

    The young man strode off down the street, disappearing behind a row of houses.

    Seraphine knelt next to her, a contrite expression on her face. She slipped a hand under her arm, pulling her to her feet with surprising ease. "Looks like we''ll be spending some time getting to know one another, Aubrey Sinclair. It''ll be entirely up to you whether the experience ends as a cordial one... or not."

 Chapter 40: Truce?

    As she found herself bound and unable to speak, Aubrey fumed. She screamed through the paper talismans, but it only came out muffled and garbled. She struggled against her bonds, yanking and pulling, but all that did was cause the seals to bind her wrists and ankles even tighter.

    Aubrey leaned against the wall, breathing heavily as she stared at her two captors. Her anger hadn''t abated. She still wanted to break Levy''s nose.

    After a while, Seraphine sat on a chair facing her, while Levy stood just inside the doorway.

    Their supposed safehouse wasn''t that bad¡ªaside from the whole being tied up and silenced thing. The room they put her in seemed more like a quaint bedroom with a bed, a desk, and a wardrobe. There wasn''t anything sharp or pointy for her to use as a weapon, though she suspected there would be if they had put her in a prison cell.

    After a few long moments of silence, Seraphine leaned forward in her chair and spoke in a quiet and even tone. "Now, would you like to have a civil conversation? I''ll remove the talismans from your mouth, but only if you give me your word you won''t do anything unwise."

    Aubrey rolled her eyes but gave a curt nod.

    Seraphine stood up and walked over to Aubrey, slowly peeling away the seal covering her lips. As she removed the talisman, it stung a bit¡ªlike removing a particularly sticky piece of tape off one''s skin.

    The moment she felt it was gone, Aubrey let out a long sigh, and then launched into a torrent of expletives that had both Seraphine and Levy flinching back.

    "YOU! SON OF A FUCK! I should break your goddamn legs! Piece of shit! Shitbag! Bastard! I''m gonna pop your balls into your throat!"

    When she finally finished cursing at them both, Aubrey finally turned her attention to Seraphine, who stood quietly while she let her speak her mind. The noblewoman gave a single, exasperated sigh before she responded.

    "Are you quite finished?" She glanced at her partner, then back at Aubrey, as if evaluating her potential for further verbal abuse. "Good. Now, then... let me make sure you understand what''s at stake here."

    Seraphine fixed her with a level look, one hand resting on her hip. "We''re giving you the opportunity to prove your good intentions to us by cooperating. I expect that you''ll show some common courtesy¡ªeven if you do decide to swear like a sailor afterward. Is that understood?"

    "Uh, excuse me? You just threatened to kill me! ''Bring her to one of my safehouses...'' You made me think that you guys would fucking execute me!" Aubrey mimicked the noblewoman''s aristocratic accent before turning to Levy, eyes aflame with contempt. "And you, Mr. ''Oooh look at me! I''m an arch-asshole with my shiny-ass paper-throwing powers''!"

    Levy cleared his throat, averting his gaze to look somewhere above her head.

    Aubrey blinked. This reaction wasn''t the reaction she expected from him, but she wasn''t one to take silence as permission to talk. "Well? Cat got your tongue, twerp?"

    Levy didn''t rise to her bait.

    "Tell you what¡ªyou get to keep your stupid mouth shut, and I won''t lay your ass out." Aubrey gave him her meanest glare. "Deal?"

    "Enough." Seraphine raised a hand, motioning for them both to calm down. She sighed once more, sounding exasperated. "Please stop antagonizing him, or you''ll provoke him into doing something that he might regret. Levy can be impetuous, but he''s usually less inclined to resort to violence."

    "Hmph," Aubrey snorted but otherwise fell quiet, simmering in a smoldering cloud of anger.

    "Look..." Seraphine''s tone softened as she took another seat on the other side of the bed. "I didn''t bring you here to hurt you. If we''d wanted you dead, we could have already disposed of you in the alley, without bothering to take you along."

    Aubrey winced at the painful reminder, still sore from the rough landing she took. "And by the way... I''m gonna need to borrow some clothes because mine are kinda trashed," she said, looking down at the ripped, ruined outfit she now wore. She craned her neck toward Levy, narrowing her eyes with a pointed look. "Nothing from you, though, Prettyboy. I don''t wanna smell like your stupid paper."

    Levy snorted.

    "I think I have some spare dresses. Give me a moment." Seraphine pulled a wooden chest from underneath the bed. After a quick search, she held up a simple frock¡ªone that looked far too frumpy and drab for someone like her.

    Seraphine glanced at the garment and shrugged. "This should be fine. Levy, if you''d please give us some privacy while I help Aubrey into this? Just a few minutes, if you please."

    The young man let out an irritable sigh and scowled but walked out of the room.

    Once Levy left the room, Seraphine started undressing her. Aubrey did nothing to help, so the noblewoman had to wrestle the garments off her.

    Despite how uncomfortable the whole experience left Aubrey feeling, Seraphine remained focused and clinical through the entire process, methodically undoing each of the bindings and peeling away Aubrey''s ruined clothes. She wasn''t necessarily rough or careless with them, but she wasn''t gentle about it either.

    Aubrey thought she could do something once her wrists were momentarily unbound, but one warning look from Seraphine stopped that thought dead in its tracks. With no other option, Aubrey held still while the young woman undressed and redressed her like a child.

    Seraphine stood back and looked Aubrey over once the final garment was on her. She nodded, satisfied with her handiwork.

    The dress did look a bit baggy on her. However, Aubrey still found that the cotton and linen shift with its wool stockings and bodice felt comfortable enough for her. "Not the kinda stuff you would normally wear, is it, Milady?"

    Seraphine shot her a wry glance, raising an eyebrow. "I don''t always wear the fancy things you''ve seen me wear. I need to blend in from time to time when my investigations take me elsewhere. Now, would you mind if we asked you a few questions?"

    Aubrey shrugged. "Sure."

    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

    Levy returned to the room. His face held a wary expression as he peered around the corner before entering, as though expecting more threats or insults to be flung his way. He then moved to stand next to Seraphine, who stepped aside, and he took a seat on the chair Seraphine vacated.

    "You told me your tale earlier, and I briefed Levy on most of the details, so we''d like to clarify a few points."

    "Right," Aubrey grunted.

    "So, about your relationship with... Julian Blackwell was it? Why did he want to kill you?" Seraphine asked, arms folded. "Care to elaborate?"

    "Um." Aubrey fidgeted slightly, before finally answering in a somewhat uncomfortable voice. "I don''t know the exact reasons, but I managed to uncover bits and pieces about his involvement with these groups called the Iron Circle and the Luminous Consortium. Someone named Helena Voss urged him to set up a scheme to have me killed."

    "Why?"

    "Because that person suspected that I was turning into an Unhallowed."

    "I don''t suppose you have any proof of this?" Levy said, glancing over at his partner. "It''s hardly a solid argument for your innocence. At least in my eyes."

    Seraphine turned to look at him with a questioning glance, prompting him to elaborate.

    "Unhallowed are created through dark rituals by a select few that practice this accursed art¡ªrituals that often use necromantic powers to drain a soul and transform them into creatures of dark magic. One doesn''t simply become an Unhallowed by natural means. Those things don''t exist."

    "Oh yeah?" Aubrey said, unable to hold back an impulsive reply. "Then what about that spectral whale thing you two fought the other time, hmm?"

    Seraphine inclined her head, a thoughtful look on her face as she seemed to consider the question. "The Murmuros Leviathan... is an example of an Unhallowed entity that isn''t created through dark means, true, but they are rather rare. What Levy implied¡ªthat ordinary mortals simply don''t become Unhallowed by happenstance¡ªis something I happen to agree with, and it is something I''ve never encountered in the field either."

    Aubrey drew in a deep breath and sighed loudly through her teeth. "Well, that''s what they wrote down in the ledgers I took from Blackwell. They killed me to prevent me from becoming one, but I guess they were too incompetent to even do that properly. So, somehow I came back to life with most of my memories in shambles and a burning desire for revenge."

    Levy looked unconvinced by her claim, though a hint of curiosity could be seen on his face as he listened intently to every word she said. Seraphine, on the other hand, seemed willing to hear her out.

    "Why didn''t they just make sure to burn your corpse?" Levy mused out loud. "Any rituals related to the Unhallowed need a proper, intact vessel¡ªpreferably fresh, while the soul''s lingering within."

    "Your guess is as good as mine, to be honest. I interrogated a cemetery keeper shortly after I revived and he told me that someone who had been a big fan of mine paid him to bury my body."

    "So a fan of yours was also a conspirator to your murder?" Levy asked.

    "Maybe. Doubt it though, since I can''t think of a reason why they''d want me buried instead of burned if they were."

    "Right, well that does make me somewhat more inclined to believe that you may actually have a story worthy of looking into. However, a list of names, no matter how compelling, isn''t going to win over our superiors," Levy said in a grumbling tone.

    "What you need... is an eyewitness or hard evidence. Something that can''t easily be disproven," Seraphine suggested, pinching her lower lip with her thumb and index finger. "Handing over those ledgers would be a start."

    "I didn''t bring them with me, though." Aubrey shifted around uncomfortably, adjusting herself to sit upright against the headrest of the bed. "I could get them and show them to you if you''d like, but you guys have to swear on your fucking souls that you won''t sell me out."

    The two of them exchanged a look with one another, seeming to have a silent conversation using only their facial expressions. After a while, they both turned to Aubrey at the same time, seeming to have come to a silent agreement.

    "Not yet. You''ll stay contained within our custody until we confirm that you''re telling the truth, and I do have an alternative." Seraphine unfolded her arms, looking a bit more relaxed as she laid out her next line of questioning. "Assuming all these things about the Iron Circle and the Luminous Consortium are true¡ªand if it helps your case any further¡ªhow exactly do you plan on bringing them all down?"

    "Like hell I know! I''m a fucking musician!"

    "There''s no need to use such language," Levy scolded her, brows furrowing with irritation. "Not if you want us to take your claims seriously."

    "Oh yeah, I''m sorry, I forgot that we''re supposed to only use flowery, posh language like yours?" Aubrey retorted with a huff. "Alright, I''ll spell it out for you assholes! My memories aren''t all in the right places, but I can remember bits and pieces about who ordered the hit. I already took care of Julian Blackwell, now I''m after Helena Voss. All I know is that she''s hiding somewhere in Thornhaven and that she''s affiliated with the Luminous Consortium."

    Seraphine exchanged another meaningful glance with Levy, then nodded before turning back to Aubrey. "Aside from your quest for vengeance, have you had the urge to hurt any living things since your revival?"

    Aubrey blinked owlishly. "...no? I''ve only killed those who tried to harm me first. Why, do you think I might snap and go on a murderous rampage?"

    "She is an Unhallowed, after all," Levy pointed out to Seraphine.

    "Well, that would''ve happened by now, wouldn''t it?" Aubrey shot back.

    "Are you sure of that?" Seraphine countered, eyeing her suspiciously. "You understand why we can''t simply take your word for it. I know you''ve experienced things that defy the natural order, and while there is much about the Unhallowed that we do not know, it stands to reason that you have undergone some kind of transformation."

    "So, now what then? You got me locked in here until I go apeshit?" Aubrey frowned deeply. "For the record, if you do find a reason to lock me away in a dungeon somewhere, make it comfortable."

    Seraphine hummed, then got up from her seat and began to pace around the room. She looked as though she was thinking carefully about something important before answering Aubrey''s question.

    "I plan to keep you here while Levy and I investigate your story. I hope you understand that I have my own doubts about whether or not I can fully trust you¡ªespecially with the information you provided. However, I believe I can trust my instincts that tell me there is something about you that''s worth keeping alive for the time being."

    "How generous of you, Milady," Aubrey remarked dryly.

    "If everything checks out, then we''ll begin looking into those two organizations: the Iron Circle and the Luminous Consortium, see if we can''t root out the corruption within. As for you, Aubrey, your next move will determine whether or not our next interaction will be with steel in hand, or an offering of friendship."

    Levy crossed his arms over his chest, giving Seraphine an incredulous look. "You really believe her, Seraphine?"

    Seraphine shrugged, looking nonplussed by Levy''s accusatory tone. "Belief? I''ll let the truth of the matter be revealed, either way."

    She stepped towards Aubrey, staring down at her with a solemn expression. "This place... is not a prison, it''s just somewhere where you can stay if you don''t intend to harm anyone in the city. Until such a time when our investigation is concluded, and if all goes well, you''ll be able to roam freely again as long as you promise not to cause trouble."

    Aubrey gave a sigh. "What am I supposed to do while waiting?"

    "Sit still and quiet, and don''t do anything foolish like trying to escape," Levy answered, scowling down at her.

    "Oh, sure." Aubrey rolled her eyes. "I''ll just stay in here doing nothing but sit and stare at the walls all day while you two investigate, no problem!"

    Seraphine raised an eyebrow at her and smiled slyly. "You said you''re a musician, correct? Well, then you shouldn''t find any shortage of inspiration here."

    With that, Seraphine motioned for Levy to follow her as she walked towards the door, opening it wide to lead the two of them out.

    Aubrey watched them go, then let out another loud sigh through her teeth, resigned to her fate for the time being. "...whatever."

    Her plan to get them to investigate for her had succeeded, but for now, it would do little good to push it. So, Aubrey simply flopped back against the pillows of her bed, feeling numb and bored all at once.

 Chapter 41: Fetch

    Seraphine took in a deep breath as she stepped out of the carriage, squinting at the building in front of her. The theatre was impressive¡ªno doubt about that¡ªwith its ornate facade of intricate marble work and gleaming gold accents.

    "This must be the right place, then," she remarked, noting the signage over the gate that read "The Blackwell''s Grandiose Entertainment Venue and Theatre for the Ages." She tilted her head in amusement, wondering how many times Julian Blackwell must have altered the signage to fit his desire for acknowledgment.

    The entrance to the theatre was gated and guarded by a pair of serious-looking men in uniforms emblazoned with Blackwell''s coat of arms¡ªa lion on one side, and a rose on the other. They eyed her and Levy warily as the two of them approached, halting them with a wave of their hands.

    "I''m afraid the theater is closed for the time being, Miss," one of the men said, standing firmly in front of her with his hands clasped behind his back.

    "Oh? And why is that?" Seraphine asked, planting a hand on her hip.

    "We have orders not to allow anyone inside at this time, miss. I must ask that you turn around and go back the way you came."

    Seraphine sighed, reaching into her bag to produce an identity card bearing her Hunter''s Seal. "I am a Hunter of the Order of the Viridian Cross, and he"¡ªshe pointed at Levy¡ª "is a Hunter from the Arcane Collegium. We''ve received reports about possible Unhallowed activity on the premises, so if you would kindly stand aside and allow us to do our jobs, I would greatly appreciate it."

    The guards looked stunned for a moment, then exchanged a look of uncertainty before stepping aside and allowing Seraphine and Levy through.

    "Thank you, gentlemen," she said, giving them a smile. As she walked past them and towards the doors, she turned to Levy and grinned wryly. "You know, there are times when I really do enjoy that authority that comes with being a Hunter."

    "You should use it more often then, you never seem to bring out that Hunter''s Seal of yours," he replied as they entered the lobby of the theatre.

    Their investigation of the premises didn''t take long, and soon the duo found themselves standing inside the balcony seats, overlooking the performance hall within. The old blood stains, bullet holes, and broken furniture told a tale of violence and chaos... most likely the gruesome aftermath of Aubrey''s rampage.

    After leaving the theatre, Levy and Seraphine tracked down the songstress Lucille, who had secluded herself to recuperate following the night of the incident. It did not take much coaxing to gain information that corraborated Aubrey''s story. While Lucille hadn''t seen everything directly with her own eyes, she did tell them of her encounter with Aubrey.

    Next, they investigated one of Blackwell''s factories that Aubrey had infiltrated to steal those ledgers. While the duo was stopped by the guards from entering the private offices, the workers were willing enough to share what little they knew of the owner of this place. A few discreetly slid them documents pertaining to various projects that were supposedly under the purview of Julian Blackwell.

    The rest of the day was spent scouring other districts for any leads on either of the groups mentioned. However, both of their investigations ended up turning into dead ends as no further evidence could be found implicating either organization, let alone any connection between them and Blackwell.

    <hr>

    By the time they returned to the carriage to return to the safehouse, the two had agreed on one thing: that Aubrey was being at least partially truthful¡ªbut there remained some questions to ask before they could ascertain just how dangerous she truly was.

    As soon as they stepped foot in the room where Aubrey was confined, the young woman groaned loudly from her position on top of the mattress. Her head popped up, crimson eyes glaring at them with annoyance as her hair was a wild mess around her face.

    "Look, I''m already bored outta my mind. Can you, like, get me something to do?" Aubrey whined, rolling onto her belly. "Like, I dunno... music sheets? Anything to entertain myself?"

    Seraphine sighed quietly as Levy walked over and took his seat in the chair next to the bed.

    Aubrey''s vernacular was... unique, to say the least¡ªsomething neither she nor Levy had encountered before. She spoke as though she hailed from another place, and the way she addressed people made it abundantly clear that she wasn''t from any noble family of import. If anything, her speech sounded closer to the way common folk or street urchins tended to speak.

    "You do understand the situation you''re in?" Levy asked, leaning back into his seat with arms folded. "We''re investigating the truth behind your story, so you''re staying here until it''s done. Besides, it''s only been a day. Surely you can wait a bit longer before throwing a tantrum over boredom."

    "Fuck, dude, all I need to keep entertained is a guitar! That, or just a pen and a pad to write down what''s in my head! It''s not like I''m asking you for an entire bloody orchestra!"

    "And leave you with your hands and feet free? No, I''d rather not give you an opportunity to attack us or escape if you decide we''re taking too long. Just sit still, keep quiet and¡ª"

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    "Levy," Seraphine interrupted, raising a hand to gesture at him to stop. She turned to Aubrey and inclined her head in a polite nod.

    "Sorry, but for now, that''s how it is. Until things have settled down, you must remain here... but I''ll look into finding something for you to read, at least. Would a book suffice?"

    Aubrey buried her face in one of the pillows, groaning loudly into the fabric. After a moment of silence, she raised her head once more, staring at them blearily with those ruby-red eyes of hers.

    "Fine, sure. A fucking book then," she grumbled, sounding utterly defeated. "Give me a thick smut book with lots of sexy scenes. That''ll do nicely. Maybe it''ll even turn me on."

    Levy''s eyebrows twitched upwards at the blunt vulgarity, but Seraphine remained unfazed by it, merely shaking her head in amusement before turning to leave the room. "I''ll find something appropriate... though I make no promises regarding content," she told the sulking girl, glancing back briefly at her over a shoulder. "Come on, Levy. Let''s be on our way."

    With that, they departed, closing the door softly behind themselves.

    <hr>

    Once again, Aubrey sat back against the pillows, sighing heavily. Despite her best attempts at remaining aloof in the presence of them, Seraphine and Levy¡ªso far¡ªwere a rather pleasant pair to deal with. They hadn''t threatened her with violence or torture, had given her good food and comfortable quarters for her imprisonment.

    Though she didn''t exactly like it much, she had to admit that they treated her relatively decently for what she had done in their presence so far... which meant that hopefully they would soon come to trust her enough to grant some measure of leeway. The question would simply be whether they trusted her more than she had reason to trust them yet.

    She would have to play nice... or rather, attempt to behave for the time being, and wait things out. Hopefully they would come through, and soon... if only because she was starting to get desperate for something to alleviate the boredom.

    And it had only been a fucking day. Fuuuuuu¡ª

    Aubrey stuffed her head back against the pillow, groaning loudly into the fabric once more as her face heated up. The damn paper talismans binding her wrists and ankles itched, distracting and irritating her to no end, and the urge to rub her legs together to chase that feeling¡ªor just scratch them¡ªonly increased. But alas...

    She could probably use her abilities to break free somehow, but then that might jeopardize whatever small amount of progress she''d made so far with Seraphine and Levy. She wasn''t sure if she''d like that outcome or not...

    Aubrey paused for a long moment, staring blankly across the room, lost in thought before coming back to reality once more.

    Damn it all... now she really needed to pee too. That, and brush her fucking hair¡ªwhich already felt more tangled and greasy than usual.

    This fucking sucked so, so hard.

    <hr>

    That night, Aubrey lay on her side, her gaze drifting listlessly around the room. Sleep didn''t come easily to her as she often found herself tossing and turning while her brain raced with ideas. And when it didn''t, she simply stared at the ceiling in boredom with nothing else to occupy her mind.

    A heavy knock at the door roused her from her thoughts, though the sound alone wasn''t enough to stir her from her position.

    "Who the hell knocks for a prison?" she called out. "Just come inside."

    Cedric''s gravelly voice spoke from behind the door, "Your knight in shining armor, here."

    Aubrey smirked and quickly sat up, ignoring the creaking protests of the old bedsprings beneath her. She hopped towards the door, but her feet got caught in each other mid-leap. With an oof, she fell onto her face.

    "Fu¡ª"

    After pushing herself to her feet, she hopped the remaining distance and leaned against the door.

    "Hello, my knight¡ªwait, how''d you find me and get inside this place, anyway?"

    "My tracking senses tingle. Also, I just walked in. The only warded room here seems to be this one," Cedric said, dry as sandpaper.

    "...ah, right," Aubrey replied flatly as she rolled her eyes. "Anyways, are you here to bust me out?"

    "If you wish me to. However, breaking into a heavily-warded room could cause a catastrophic backlash. If not dealt properly, you''d risk destroying the entire house. Are you alright with that?" Cedric asked in a nonchalant tone that indicated that he likely didn''t care about that too much.

    "Um... probably not?" She paused, pursing her lips thoughtfully as she considered what might happen if something did go wrong. After thinking for a moment, she shook her head vigorously. "No, I think we''re good, actually. I''ll keep playing the role of ''prisoner'' for the time being."

    With a smirk on her face, Aubrey added teasingly, "...you must miss me terribly, huh? To have come all the way just for me, and all!"

    "..."

    There came only silence from behind the door for several moments. Eventually, though, Cedric let out a long-suffering sigh from the other side, before answering, "Something like that..."

    She snickered at that response. "So, uh... how''s Thaddy and Liza doing?"

    "Thaddeus is fine... he''s been tinkering with that luminal projector. Liza''s... well, she''s trying to keep herself busy with some recreational activity she learned recently."

    "And that would be?"

    "Writing stories and poetry. Her latest poem involves an angst-filled story about a young woman in a tower. It''s... interesting, to say the least."

    "Oh man, can''t wait to read it later." Speaking of stories, Seraphine had better bring her those books as promised, or else¡ª

    Aubrey''s eyes lit up as an idea struck her suddenly, and she grinned wickedly in the dark. "Hey Ceddy, I need a favor from you. Go up to my room in the attic and look through the bottom drawer on my bedside table. There should be a small box with a vial of pink liquid inside. It''s called ''Xeno''s Kiss''. Bring me the vial before morning comes. Just slip it under the door. Please?"

    There came yet another pause from outside before Cedric spoke again. "And what exactly are you planning to do with that vial of yours?"

    "Something to stave off boredom for a bit." A whimsical smile spread across Aubrey''s face as she leaned back against the doorframe, tapping her chin thoughtfully with one finger. "It could also help facilitate a little bonding between our hostesses and me~"

    Cedric''s tone became flat once more, betraying nothing in his voice. "You''re a very strange individual."

    "Yup!"

 Chapter 42: Paper Trail

    The morning greeted Aubrey with the sounds of movement outside the room as voices could be faintly heard. She sat up, blinking rapidly, and stretched with an unladylike grunt.

    Seraphine peeked into the room, knocking twice. "Are you still alive in there?"

    Aubrey groaned softly from inside the room, sounding groggy and still half-asleep.

    "Well, good morning," Seraphine continued, opening the door wide.

    Aubrey squinted, rubbing at her eyes, taking note of the bundle of books being brought over in Seraphine''s arms. Her eyes lit up at the sight of them. "The promised material finally graces me? Sweet!"

    Seraphine set the pile down on the edge of the bed, gesturing for Aubrey to make space for them. "I believe this will hold you over for a bit, yes. I do not own any ''erotic material'', so the most suggestive thing I managed to procure might come across a bit tame compared to whatever lewd fantasies occupy your headspace."

    Aubrey puffed out her cheeks and glared, but didn''t bother retorting or correcting her.

    Levy entered the room next, bearing food upon a tray. He frowned when he noticed her glaring in his direction. "Looks like you had a visitor last night. The front door was broken into, and there were scratch marks on the floor leading up to your room."

    Aubrey winced at that revelation. "Oh noes! How awful! And after all that talk yesterday about me staying put as a prisoner and all, too!"

    She gave the two Hunters a sheepish smile. "Ummm... I can''t think of anyone else besides my bandmates that would visit me."

    Seraphine crossed her arms with a stern look. "I suppose I should have expected something like this to happen. Well, regardless. The important thing is that you actually managed to stay in the room. I hope the books prove entertaining enough to keep you contained."

    Aubrey nodded, still grinning widely as she reached for her breakfast meal of porridge, sausages, toast with jam, and apple juice. "Yuppers! I''m a woman of my word, yanno~?"

    Levy didn''t seem convinced, regarding her with an incredulous look while setting the tray down on her lap. "If you had tried breaking out the room, I doubt we would even be speaking now. There would only be piles of ashes left behind."

    Seraphine sighed, stepping away with hands folded at her back. "I''ll continue my investigations today, but from now on, Levy and I will take turns looking after you in this house while the other goes out." She turned around and glanced at Aubrey one last time before moving away. "I trust you enough to know that attempting another stunt like that would put your chances of gaining our trust even lower than they already are."

    "Yeah, yeah," Aubrey grumbled, scooping a mouthful of porridge with her spoon and wolfing it down. Eating with her hands tied wasn''t the most comfortable experience, so she took care with the movements of her arms so as to not spill anything. But still¡­

    <hr>

    Seraphine stood at the threshold of the Mordenstradt Public Archives, the morning sun casting long, honeyed shadows on the cobblestones. The building itself looked old, with cracked bricks and vines curling around its doorframe like grasping fingers. But despite its age, it gave off an air of solidity and reliability¡ªa trait common amongst many prominent structures in the city.

    She pushed the door open and stepped into the cool interior, inhaling the musty smell of old books and paper. A few patrons milled around the rows of shelves and bookcases, their eyes peering up at her over the edge of their tomes. The atmosphere was one of quiet reverence, the silence broken only by the scratching of pens on parchment or the occasional whisper among small groups.

    Approaching the main desk, Seraphine was greeted by a bespectacled archivist¡ªa stooped and elderly man who looked as though he had spent his entire life hunched over a stack of books. He smiled at her politely, his wrinkled face creasing around his mouth and eyes.

    "Good day, miss... how may I assist you today?"

    "Good day," she replied, her voice steady but tinged with an edge of urgency. "I¡¯m here to access public records on a performer named Aubrey. She was quite prominent in the city¡¯s cultural circles."

    "Certainly, madam." With practiced ease, he set about opening up different books and scrolls upon the wooden counter. He skimmed through the contents of each in search of something in particular, before letting out a pleased grunt as his finger landed upon one entry.

    He turned it around so that Seraphine could see what he had found. It was a page filled with dates and information pertaining to the performance schedules for one "Lady Aubrey Sinclair" throughout various periods over the course of a year.

    "Ah, here we go," he murmured, pushing his glasses further up onto the bridge of his nose as he peered down at the page.

    Seraphine scanned through it herself, frowning slightly when she noticed that the latest entry appeared to be from four months ago. "Is this the last scheduled date of a performance?" she asked, pointing to the date written beside the venue name, "Phantom''s Opera House" located in the Gildenfaire district.

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    "I''m afraid so," replied the archivist with a faint air of regret. "Since then, nothing has been added into our record books pertaining to her shows. Perhaps she took a break?"

    "She''s dead," Seraphine stated bluntly.

    "...oh, dear." The archivist frowned down at his book once more, his brow furrowing slightly as he pondered how to proceed. "That does present something of a conundrum, I suppose. If she had died, surely there''d be some sort of report on that in our records somewhere, let''s see..."

    As he busied himself looking again through all the books and scrolls on display, Seraphine watched patiently with a frown tugging at the corners of her lips.

    The search took some time¡ªlong enough for Seraphine to wonder whether she''d have to come back another day to continue investigating¡ªwhen at last the archivist spoke up once more. "I believe I may have found something," he said, sounding pleased with himself.

    Seraphine perked up, her attention drawn towards the book the man held out towards her. She moved closer to examine what he had found.

    Her eyes widened as she stared at a collection of newspaper clippings and magazine articles describing the gruesome incident involving a group of unknown assailants attacking The Phantom''s Opera House while Aubrey Sinclair performed for the evening.

    They later burned down the building after killing everyone inside. Speculations ran rampant in regards to the motive behind this vile act, and theories on who the attackers might have been floated around¡ªranging from disgruntled criminals targeting a prominent figure in the entertainment industry, to occultists seeking to enact dark rituals within. There appeared to be no reliable witness accounts, only the gory aftermath left in the wake of that night.

    Seraphine''s head reeled at the information, but she knew better than to simply accept everything she read as fact¡ªthere was far too much hearsay and sensationalism involved in these sources, after all.

    "May I see her genealogical archives or civil registries?" she inquired.

    The man tilted his head slightly, looking somewhat confused by her request, though his answer came without hesitation nevertheless: "I''m terribly sorry, ma''am. But such records are not part of our public records, and cannot be accessed without the approval of higher authorities. I''m sure you understand."

    She reached into her bag and fished around for her Hunter''s Seal once more before flashing it at him. "I''m a Hunter with The Order of Viridian Cross. This is important to my investigation of certain occult crimes within the city."

    The archivist hesitated visibly at this declaration, swallowing hard as he gazed at the official seal for several seconds. He looked back up at Seraphine once more, a pained expression crossing his face, before finally letting out a resigned sigh as he conceded. "Very well... follow me this way."

    She gave him an appreciative smile and followed along after he guided her through a door in the back that led into a darkened hallway. This passage wound its way deeper inside the building for some distance before finally terminating at another door marked with an engraved sigil.

    "Through here," said the man as he unlocked it with a set of keys from around his belt, pushing open the door to reveal yet another corridor. This one stretched ahead for a while longer before coming to end at a circular chamber filled with shelves upon shelves of documents.

    "This contains various legal documents pertaining to births, marriages, deaths, and all those sorts," explained the archivist while gesturing towards the massive room beyond. "What you''re searching for should be amongst these records."

    Seraphine took a deep breath and thanked him, stepping past him to enter inside. As soon as she stepped over the threshold, a rush of magic washed over her senses. Whatever power dwelled here must have caused some sort of protection mechanism¡ªor perhaps detection spell¡ªto activate upon her crossing the bounds of the chamber.

    "I shall remain behind while you make your inquiries," called out the man from behind. "If something goes wrong or any problems arise... just raise your voice, and I shall come rushing to assist! Do not fret!"

    She simply nodded without looking back and proceeded to begin her search in earnest among the stacks of parchment lining every centimeter of wall space.

    She began with her investigation into Aubrey Sinclair''s family tree, realizing after some time that she appeared to have no living relatives, nor any known spouses or children of her own. Next, Seraphine combed through other papers connected to Aubrey¡ªwills and titles of property ownership, inheritance claims and court cases regarding her legacy¡ªhoping to glean some kind of clue from all this information about why such extremes were taken by these groups in eliminating her... but nothing came up that stood out to her. Everything looked relatively routine, mundane in the grand scheme of things.

    Frustrated at having come up empty-handed again, Seraphine sighed and rubbed at her temples, wondering if perhaps it''d simply become too late in the day to conduct this level of research. She considered returning to the archives to resume later in the week, after she had time to sort through everything she''d discovered so far... when something caught her eye amongst the documents.

    A death certificate belonging to Julian Blackwell, signed and filed by the office of the city''s chief magistrate. The date printed on it showed he passed away a few weeks ago, coinciding with the time Aubrey infiltrated his theatre.

    However, the filing date for the document itself showed that it was only completed two days ago.

    Her brows knit in confusion at seeing this discrepancy between when he must''ve died and how long afterwards it took for someone to file an official declaration of his passing. Strange...

    Another signature caught her gaze, belonging to another person mentioned in a separate paper as the legal executor responsible for settling the financial affairs of Julian Blackwell after his death, as well as his estate going forward¡ªa man named Morgan Greaves.

    She frowned and scratched her chin thoughtfully for several moments, recalling where she remembered hearing that particular name...

    Ah... yes. She vaguely recollected him as one of the patrons funding a campaign to erect some sort of new monument within the Thornhaven academic sector. He was a prominent entrepreneur within Mordenstradt''s elite business circles who owned a large stake within a manufacturing company.

    Seraphine didn''t have any personal experience with him beyond what information she gleaned secondhand through her peers. All told, he seemed respectable enough at a glance... although she supposed nothing prevented him from secretly dabbling with black magic and demonic entities on the side.

    She had to admit that one couldn''t truly discount the possibility of such corruption existing even among the most respectable facades. So, what was his connection to Julian Blackwell?

 Chapter 43: All Work And No Play

    After Seraphine left, Levy remained with her, watching her eat the rest of her food in silence. He seemed to pay great attention to how she chewed her bread, and whether or not any crumbs fell onto her bedsheets.

    "So, I''ve been meaning to ask," Aubrey said as she finished off her plate, licking a glob of jam off the corner of her lips. "Are you and Seraphine a couple or what?"

    Levy''s head whipped towards her, his pale skin reddened and a flustered expression crossed his face. "W-Why does everyone ask that question every damn time when we work together?! We''re just partners, colleagues¡ª"

    "Uh-huh," she said with a smirk as she set the now-empty tray aside. "Wait, I think I''m starting to understand something about you..."

    Aubrey grinned broadly at Levy''s flustered expression, winking at him as she reclined on the mattress.

    "Lemme guess... you like Seraphine, but she seems to either not catch the subtle hints or she''s one of those oblivious types, right?"

    Levy sputtered something unintelligible as he rose abruptly, grabbing the tray. "The only hint I''ll give you is that you shouldn''t get too comfortable here, Miss Sinclair."

    Aubrey watched in amusement as Levy stomped away. He eventually returned to stand guard once more, idly flipping through the pages of an old book while shooting dark glares Aubrey''s way.

    Despite herself, a tiny kernel of pity for the young man formed somewhere inside Aubrey''s heart.

    "Did you confess to her yet?" she asked.

    Levy snapped out of whatever he was reading to glare at her once again. "Why would that be relevant to your situation?"

    Aubrey shook her head, chuckling lightly as she shifted positions to lie sideways while still propped up on her elbow. She gazed at Levy with an amused gleam in her eyes and a smirk pulling at the corners of her lips.

    "I''ve got nothing else better to do right now than offer a little romantic advice... besides, we already talked yesterday about this place being too stuffy and boring... but I guess there are other ways to pass the time~"

    He looked unimpressed. "I''m not falling for your taunts this time, Miss Sinclair. Just stay in this room, and things should go well for all of us. Keep trying to rile me up and push my buttons, and see if I don''t take drastic measures."

    "So, did you confess or not?"

    A sigh escaped Levy''s lips. "...I did."

    Aubrey gasped. "And you got rejected? A handsome stud like yourself?"

    Levy shook his head before returning to his reading. "She''s more like an older sister to me... than anything else, so we decided to keep our relationship professional instead," he explained, flipping another page over.

    Aubrey hummed in understanding, resting her chin against one palm as she studied Levy thoughtfully. There wasn''t anything about him that really caught her eye physically or aesthetically¡ªthough he definitely seemed the intelligent type based on the way he carried himself.

    "Hmm, but you still harbor romantic feelings for her."

    Levy didn''t answer immediately, turning another page over. At length though, he nodded in confirmation after muttering a quiet "Yes."

    "Have you tried pursuing relationships with others since then? You know what they say: always remember that there''s plenty more fish in the sea."

    The look he sent her seemed genuinely baffled.

    "You''re not going to give this subject up, are you?" he muttered dryly.

    Aubrey grinned impishly, shrugging as she rolled onto her back and kicked her feet in the air with playful energy. "Not until I learn of something more interesting happening around here. Unless, that is, you have a cute girl waiting for you in some secluded location somewhere that I can tease you about?"

    "Unfortunately for you, Miss Sinclair, I''ve never had much luck when it comes to matters of the heart," Levy replied quietly, tapping his foot impatiently against the floorboards. He didn''t seem angry or annoyed now though. If anything, he appeared merely resigned to her teasing.

    That made Aubrey pout. She wanted to stir him up some more... hm...

    "A-anyways..." Levy continued, glancing away and clearing his throat. He closed his book with a loud thump, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "Why are you so obsessed about romance all of a sudden? And where does this interest come from?"

    Aubrey blinked at that question and laughed sheepishly, running one hand through her messy bedhair and shaking her head. "Ahaha, no particular reason, I guess... just thought that I might get to know you two better by hearing your love stories."

    "You don''t think it''ll distract me from watching you closely? How foolish," he remarked, smirking in that smug way men tended to do when thinking they''ve got you figured out.

    Aubrey blew raspberries. "Said the guy who couldn''t keep his eyes off of my body yesterday~"

    Levy''s pale skin reddened again, averting his eyes quickly as he looked down at his lap and mumbled something under his breath. When he eventually looked up once more, he stared hard at her as though trying to drill a hole inside her skull with his mind. "Miss Sinclair, while I''m not an expert on this matter, there seems to be a pattern developing with these questions. Either way... even if it helps alleviate your boredom for a bit... don''t think that means it''s okay for you to act like this, understood?"

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    "I happen to have a love potion on me. Interested?"

    He blinked owlishly at her. "Pardon?"

    With a smirk, Aubrey lifted her hands above her head, wiggling her fingers as if doing a sensual dance for his enjoyment.

    She reached down between her breasts and slowly pulled out a tiny glass vial filled with pink liquid. She showed it off with an innocent smile upon her lips, before hiding it away within the folds of her bosom once more. "It''s called Xeno''s Kiss, a special brand of ''liquid love'' that''s very hard to get your hands on, but comes with guaranteed results. It''s designed to make people fall completely mad for you¡­temporarily anyways, and I had it prepared specifically for a special occasion such as this one, hoho~"

    Aubrey winked playfully at him. "So, whaddaya say~?"

    Levy stared incredulously at Aubrey, his mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping out for water as he struggled to formulate a coherent sentence. He seemed so flabbergasted by her proposition that no words came out no matter how many times he attempted to speak.

    At length though, Levy managed to sputter, "W-What?! Are telling me to use that on Seraphine so she''ll fall in love with me? How did you even manage to obtain something so¡ªI-I mean... why would you even offer such a suggestion? That is immoral! Unethical! Deviant!"

    His reaction made Aubrey burst into a fit of giggles, rolling onto her side as tears threatened to spill from the corners of her eyes. Her shoulders trembled in mirth, laughing so hard her body shook. At one point, she kicked out with a leg, knocking over the pile of books and scattering them all over the floor.

    When she calmed down enough to talk, her chest heaved heavily as she lay back on her side. She wiped away tears from both eyes before sitting up and smiling devilishly at Levy''s flustered expression.

    "Nah, I ain''t telling you to use that on Seraphie, silly." She waggled a finger at him. "I''m saying, we could have some fun with it. You know... spice things up a little bit."

    She winked again, licking her lips suggestively as she wagged her eyebrows in mock seduction at him. "I happen to find a cute nerd like yourself attractive enough for me to spare my precious concoction~"

    Aubrey grinned when Levy reddened further, averting his gaze quickly and coughing to hide his embarrassment. The poor lad probably had a lot of thoughts about her comment right now, though hopefully none too negative.

    "I know you''ve got some pent-up energy that needs releasing. So, come on over. I''m not shy with the guys and gals I find cute~"

    "If you''re so confident about your own appeal, then why bring along the potion in the first place, huh? Why bother offering?" Levy questioned, crossing his arms once more in an attempt to compose himself. His cheeks remained flushed crimson, but he no longer fidgeted uncomfortably or stuttered.

    She shrugged nonchalantly in response. "Because even though your body is telling you ''yes'', your mind says ''no''. So, I thought giving you some ''encouragement'' would make things easier."

    "You think some love potion is enough to make me throw myself at you?"

    "Well... it doesn''t exactly need to be love... lust works just fine. Besides, I thought you could use a pretext so that your pride doesn''t get bruised afterwards..."

    She trailed off with a sly smile curling upward on her lips, glancing down at her lap demurely. "Would you really pass up on having your way with a beautiful young woman who''s practically throwing herself at you?"

    "...No," he admitted quietly after a pause, his blush deepening further still. "No... you''re certainly a unique individual... but you''re an Unhallowed! What if you drain my life while w-we... d-do it?"

    Aubrey gave another shrug at the accusation that she was a parasitical being. "We can make a bet. If it turns out you''re correct in assuming me to be dangerous and bad news, then fine, whatever¡ªyou can punish me however you see fit. I wouldn''t mind that, hehe~"

    Then, with a wink, she continued. "However! If nothing happens because, like I said before, the concoction works both ways... well, that means you''re worrying too much and need some stress relief to cool off~"

    Levy swallowed hard, breathing unevenly now as his gaze flicked between her face, her body, and the bedsheets. "You''re crazy. And insane... and completely out of your mind!"

    But there was also a certain glint in his eyes that seemed to sparkle with barely contained excitement as he stepped closer, stopping just shy of actually coming up beside her.

    Aubrey giggled playfully in response. She lifted her bound hands above her head again, wiggling her index finger and beckoning him closer with a seductive smirk.

    "Sooo... is that a yes, mister? Or are you just nervous that the potion wouldn''t work properly and then I''d think you''re bad in bed?"

    Her remark seemed to strike something inside him because, after hesitating briefly, Levy sighed as if giving in and stepped forward to kneel next to her bedside. His eyes darted away from hers momentarily while he bit his lip, seemingly torn between rationality and desire. Eventually though, the latter won out as he turned his attention back towards her, staring intently into her eyes.

    "Don''t think me to be a weak-willed man for falling into this kind of temptation," he warned her, leaning over her torso.

    "Pfffftt¡ªI don''t believe there''s anything weak-willed about you."

    "Just know that once I start, I won''t stop. You''ll regret having teased me so relentlessly, Miss Sinclair. Now hand me that potion before I change my mind entirely."

    Aubrey''s eyes narrowed deviously at those words. She reached between her breasts to retrieve the vial, then carefully removed the cork with her teeth and set it aside before handing it over.

    As soon as Levy took hold of it, he brought it close enough to sniff at its contents while he eyed the swirling pink liquid dubiously.

    "Are you sure this is safe?"

    She gave a thumbs-up.

    Suddenly, she recalled the words that Crone from the apothecary told her.

    "Ye folks are... resistant ta mortal toxins and curses. Normally, a human would have their sanity ripped ta shreds or die from being overstimulated..."

    Oh shit!

    "Wait!" Before Levy could gulp any down, she reached up and caught his arm to stop him, causing the vial to slip from his grasp and fall onto her face, most of its contents spilling against the corners of her mouth.

    Nooo! It''s going to waste!

    She tried licking her lips clean while wiping away whatever had spilled onto her cheeks and licking her hands. The potion was sweetly potent, coating her tongue and throat with intense flavors that reminded her faintly of strawberry milk, except stronger and with more of a fruity tang than creaminess.

    The effect was immediate¡ªan overwhelmingly intoxicating sensation of warmth spread throughout her entire body almost instantly, making her skin feel hot to the touch while goosebumps covered every inch of exposed flesh.

    More of the Crone''s words echoed in her mind as she felt heat pooling below.

    "Careful. One drop will provide the effects ye desire. Consume more. And..."

    Oh...OH FUCK ME!

 Chapter 44: Cold Turkey

    As soon as Seraphine opened the door to Aubrey''s room, a wave of lust hit her like a slap in the face. She stopped short at the sight of Levy, completely naked and panting heavily atop a sweat-drenched Aubrey Sinclair, her eyes rolled back in the throes of pleasure while her wrists remained chained together above her head.

    Numerous scratches and bite marks littered Levy''s body¡ªmarks that he didn''t seem to register.

    It took several seconds for him to snap out of his trance, blinking rapidly in shock as he turned to face Seraphine. A mortified blush spread across his face, red-hot, and he quickly scrambled to cover himself up by grabbing hold of the nearby blanket and pulling it up to his chest.

    "It-It''s not what it looks like!" he stammered, his voice shaking from embarrassment.

    Seraphine stared back at him with narrowed eyes, giving him a long, hard look before glancing over at Aubrey''s blissed-out expression.

    She sighed in exasperation, running a hand down her face. "What did you do?"

    "I didn''t mean to! I swear! We just¡ªShe¡ªThe potion¡ª" he managed to sputter out as his mouth struggled to form coherent sentences. Finally, he pointed towards a small glass vial lying beside the bed.

    With another deep sigh, Seraphine stepped forward and plucked the vial off the mattress, noting a label on one side that read ''Xeno''s Kiss.''

    She brought it closer and examined its remaining contents through its translucent pink color. Although only half full of liquid now, a scent reminiscent of some sort of fruity candy wafted out from its stopper. She could see traces of residue still clinging to the sides as well, suggesting that whatever effect it might''ve held prior had certainly been powerful enough to cause quite a bit of chaos in the meantime.

    Meanwhile, Aubrey moaned deliriously while writhing against the bed sheets underneath her, struggling weakly against her bindings. "Ahhhnn... More! More, please!!"

    Levy crawled to where his trousers lay discarded on the floor near the footboard, quickly slipping into them to maintain some modicum of decorum despite his utter humiliation.

    Seraphine set the potion aside before turning towards him with her arms folded across her chest. "Start explaining, Levy Whitlock. This is unacceptable behavior even by my lenient standards. Did she seduce you somehow?"

    "Yes! And no. Look... uhm..." He rubbed at his forehead, trying to compose himself enough to explain. His face remained flushed crimson and beads of sweat rolled down from his temples. "She told me she''d prepared that damn thing in the hopes of seducing either of us for this very reason... but instead she drank too much by accident."

    Seraphine blinked in confusion at those words as she glanced towards Aubrey again¡ªthe latter still moaning deliriously on the sheets beneath her, oblivious to their presence. She looked back at Levy once more.

    "What exactly do you mean by ''this very reason?''"

    He hesitated for a second or two, swallowing hard before responding. "U-Uh... Well... U-Um..."

    Another frustrated sigh escaped Seraphine''s lips. "Forget it. I can figure that out later on my own. Grab your clothes and leave this instant."

    "O-of course! Right away!" Levy replied instantly. He scrambled forward and snatched up all of his belongings¡ªincluding his hat and coat¡ªwhile keeping himself partially covered by using one hand to hold his jacket closed over his chest. After that, he hurried towards the door and disappeared down the hallway without another word.

    With a shake of her head, Seraphine turned back to look upon Aubrey who stared right back up at her with unfocused eyes. Her expression remained dazed and dreamy as she licked her lips while gazing hungrily towards Seraphine. "Ohh... Serahhn..."

    Seraphine marched over to her and grabbed a fistful of Aubrey''s hair, pulling her from atop the bedding and onto the hardwood floor beside it. She then dragged her out of the room entirely, Aubrey squealing in glee all the while.

    After entering the washroom, she pulled a vial from her belt pouch with her free hand. Uncorking it with one thumb, Seraphine poured its contents into the bathtub nearby, causing the lukewarm water to start swirling into an icy vortex.

    Then, releasing her grip on Aubrey''s hair, Seraphine promptly shoved her bodily into the freezing bathwater.

    Aubrey yelped loudly as she splashed about inside of it, struggling furiously against her bindings until Seraphine pressed both hands against her shoulders and forced her under.

    Seraphine had intended to bring some good news from her investigation. But alas, seeing Aubrey and Levy''s current state had derailed that entire intention.

    Instead, Seraphine would settle on giving her a nice, freezing bath to help clear that rut-fogged mind.

    ***

    Two days.

    Two long, agonizing days of fighting against her primal desires like a beast struggling to resist the temptation of a raw steak dangling from a string in front of her nose. It was torture. Absolute torture.

    Having her wrists and ankles bound helped somewhat, but not enough to prevent her body from aching for sweet release. She tried everything¡ªtantra, meditation, breathing exercises, and even pleasuring herself with her hands¡ªbut nothing seemed to work. All it did was cause her libido to skyrocket to new heights with no relief in sight.

    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

    It left her a hot mess. Literally. Sweat poured from every pore, drenching her clothes and making the bedsheets underneath her sodden with moisture. She couldn''t concentrate on anything¡ªnot even food or drink could soothe her aching thirst.

    After the second night, it began to subside. She found herself curled up into a fetal position, hugging her knees tight to her chest. The arousal still lingered beneath the surface, but now she could push through it with enough willpower and focus her attention elsewhere.

    Fuck! That damn Crone should''ve warned me of this side-effect! Fuck!!! Wait, I think she did...

    After a while, when it faded entirely away, Aubrey sat up sluggishly with a groan escaping her lips. Her stomach growled in protest at its emptiness, prompting her to scramble clumsily towards her tray and rip it apart as she devoured everything edible it contained. Once finished with that task, she collapsed back against her damp mattress, completely exhausted both mentally and physically from that ordeal.

    Seraphine walked into the room during her rest. "I see you''re finally coherent now."

    "...yes," Aubrey answered in a voice hoarse with disuse, staring down at her bare feet. "Thanks for uhm... helping to put a stop to all of that..."

    "Mm."

    Silence stretched between them awkwardly as neither party spoke a word.

    Finally, Seraphine cleared her throat and sat on the edge of the bed, keeping a respectable distance away from Aubrey. Her expression remained hard and stony as ever. "I''ve done some digging around while you were occupied with your rut, Miss Sinclair. For the most part, I''ve validated most of your story, and so far you haven''t told me a single lie... as far as I can tell at least..."

    "...that''s good to hear... So, what happens now? I''ve got a clean bill of health?"

    "For now."

    Aubrey let out another heavy sigh before giving Seraphine a slight nod in acknowledgment. "Fair enough... so what now? Am I free to go?"

    "I''ll have Levy release your bindings, but no... you won''t be leaving yet. Not until we know for certain that you won''t pose a danger to the people of Mordenstradt... or anywhere else."

    As much as Aubrey wanted to protest or argue against those terms¡ªshe understood their rationality all too well. She couldn''t deny that, if their roles were reversed and Seraphine was an unknown Unhallowed entity, she would also treat her with suspicion and keep watchful over her movements.

    It grated her nerves though, especially coming on the backfoot of her rut. She didn''t like it when things didn''t go according to plan, whether she could influence or control events directly or not.

    So, instead of raising an objection against Seraphine''s orders, Aubrey simply nodded again. "That works."

    "Good. I do have some good news for you too, if it counts for anything," Seraphine offered, crossing one leg over another with practiced poise. "I think I found the location of a facility belonging to the Luminous Consortium."

    This made Aubrey look up sharply from her feet. "Really?"

    Finally! A break in my damn fortunes!

    Seraphine gave a curt nod before standing back up again, moving across the room towards the door. "I''ll get Levy to remove your bindings, but I expect you to stay put her today. I plan on going to that facility tomorrow, and you''ll be coming with us, Miss Sinclair," she stated sternly, pausing just beside it with one hand on the handle, gazing straight into Aubrey''s crimson eyes. "Oh, and please bathe first and foremost, yes? It might help clear the remaining pheromones off your body."

    "Yessss," Aubrey hissed through clenched teeth in a long-suffering groan.

    A short while later, Levy entered her room with his gaze fixed firmly downward, refusing to meet her gaze as he approached to undo the bindings around her ankles and wrists.

    Aubrey watched him, a faint smirk curling at the edges of her lips as she noted how uncomfortable the poor guy clearly felt by what they had done only a couple of days before, despite how good it must''ve felt at the time. She also noticed how bashful he seemed whenever he accidentally glanced up towards her face, quickly averting his gaze back down again.

    "Was that your first time?" Aubrey asked innocently.

    Levy flinched at the question, his hands stilling for a moment as he paused to glance her way. "...no... of course not! I''ve... had s-some experiences, once or twice before."

    He spoke quietly, almost as though he regretted every syllable spoken out loud, and continued working on removing the paper talismans wrapped around her wrists without saying anything further.

    "Yeah?" Aubrey teased. "How''d they go?"

    Levy finished taking the last of her bonds off and began backing away towards the door. "A gentleman doesn''t discuss such private matters, Miss Sinclair."

    Aubrey snickered at him, flexing her freed arms and rolling her shoulders. She stood up onto bare feet as well, cracking her sore back. "Alright, alright~"

    Once again, she caught his quick peek towards her chest. She smirked mischievously and crossed her arms beneath her bosom, pushing her chest upward ever so slightly and exposing more cleavage in the process. "See something ya like, cutiepie?~"

    "No! That''s not... I wasn''t... Agh, I need to go now! Take care!" Levy stammered, practically running out the door.

    Aubrey cackled madly after him, stretching her arms and legs before taking a seat on the edge of her bed, reveling in her newfound freedom for the time being. She remained there another moment longer before rising from the bed to make her way toward the washroom, undressing along the way.

    She didn''t bother to shut the door behind herself as she walked over and slid herself into the bathtub, sinking deep within its cool waters until only her head remained visible above its surface. The cold helped soothe her hot flesh. Her eyelids fluttered closed, letting out a long breath that blew ripples across its previously calm surface.

    Aubrey allowed herself to soak for about ten minutes, savoring the quiet solitude provided by having no one else nearby.

    Her gamble had paid off¡ªfor the most part at least. How long would it have taken her to uncover another lead? Weeks? Months, perhaps, without access to Seraphine''s resources? Or, if her bad luck decided to rear its ugly head once more, would it even have surfaced at all?

    Aubrey didn''t know, and frankly, she didn''t care to think of that possibility anymore. Right now, all she cared about was taking advantage of this opportunity while she could.

    This would get the good guys off her back while having them do most of the work for her. She just needed to show that she would play along, which meant behaving like a model citizen and doing as Seraphine asked of her.

    It wasn''t an ideal situation by far... but it could certainly be worse. Much, much worse.

    At last, she pulled herself up onto the rim of the basin, sitting atop its edge before stretching her arms languidly above her head as though loosening tight muscles.

    Tomorrow, we leave and hopefully get some goddamn answers... finally!

    With one final sigh, she leaned forward and began scrubbing the remaining traces of pheromones from her body with vigor.

 Chapter 45: Asylum

    The mists of Thornhaven clung to the morning like a shroud, diffusing the light and turning the world into a realm of soft edges and blurry outlines. Even with her improved vision, Aubrey found it difficult to see further than ten paces ahead of where she stood in the cobblestone streets.

    Seraphine led the way while Levy trailed along behind them both. The former dressed in her usual ensemble¡ªleather skirt, blouse, corset, thigh-high boots, and a cloak slung about her shoulders. The latter wore a dark-colored suit with a matching waistcoat buttoned across his chest and a bowler hat atop his head, his hands stuffed into his coat pockets for warmth against the cool dampness of the morning mist.

    They traveled by foot this time around rather than by carriage, traversing through winding alleys and shadowed passageways as though avoiding prying eyes on their trek towards the outskirts of the district. After more than half an hour of walking through the eerily silent streets, they stopped at a lone structure looming alone amidst a sea of fog, half-lost among a copse of trees that encircled its perimeter.

    Ivy crawled over the stone walls, weaving an intricate tapestry of green against the gray. Its spiked iron fence lay in places overgrown with foliage, and moss covered much of its surface like fur on some beast long dead. It looked decrepit enough that the slightest breeze might scatter it to dust and nothingness.

    "Here we are..." Seraphine announced flatly as she approached its rusted gates. After casting a quick glance over her shoulder to confirm that Aubrey and Levy hadn''t strayed far behind her, she reached out with one hand, placed her palm flat against the metal bars, then shoved forward with surprising ease.

    Aubrey expected there to be some manner of wards preventing entry to this place, but nothing happened as soon as they stepped through onto the grounds beyond its threshold.

    The building itself stood three stories tall and roughly thrice as wide as it stretched across its length. Tall, arched windows flanked either side of its entranceway, framing twin doors constructed entirely from reinforced steel and iron, and barred with heavy chains looped around them tightly.

    "What is this place...?" Aubrey asked, staring up at its dour fa?ade.

    Levy moved past her to stand beside Seraphine who stood watching for any activity through the cracks between wooden panels blocking off several of the lower windows.

    "It''s an asylum, Miss Sinclair," Levy answered softly, his breath frosting out before him in wispy curls. "Though, I believe it''s been abandoned for several years now since they built a new one in a different location. This one was shut down due to claims of mistreatment toward the patients held within... among other things..."

    Aubrey grimaced at those words as the memories associated with that horrible facility resurfaced in her mind¡ªthe endless screams echoing along sterile hallways, cold metal restraints clamping tight around wrists, ankles, and throat, bright lights blinding her vision as she thrashed desperately against her shackles while needles stabbed into her veins again and again.

    She shook her head to disperse those thoughts before they overwhelmed her again.

    Seraphine wasted no time crossing toward the front entrance. She grabbed hold of one chain and gave it a hard tug with all her might. At first, it held firm without budging, but eventually the links snapped off from around its handles under her efforts. Then she repeated the same process on the remaining ones until all of them came apart.

    Once that task finished, she pushed the door open with one hand. It groaned loudly on rusty hinges as she leaned her entire body forward against it. The heavy metal door scraped harshly against stone tiles beneath before coming to rest against the inside wall of its frame. Seraphine disappeared inside a moment later, vanishing into the building''s shadow-cloaked interior with barely a rustle of her garments or even her footsteps.

    Levy and Aubrey followed after her into the gloom, their eyes adjusting gradually to the darkness. Within the dim confines, it became apparent that this place hadn''t seen anyone come through here for a long period.

    Thick cobwebs hung everywhere from corners and ceiling corners, draping across everything they could touch in gossamer sheets of silk. Dust caked over furniture and appliances that lay scattered about the foyer and reception area, covering everything in layers upon layers of fine grey powder that looked like dirty snowflakes falling from the ceiling overhead.

    They proceeded deeper still into the building''s labyrinthine corridors¡ªall eerily vacant aside from abandoned medical equipment, abandoned patient rooms, broken beds, empty cribs, and rotting bed frames with rusted springs jutting out from sagging mattresses and moth-eaten blankets. Everything smelled dank and foul within these chambers where sunlight couldn''t reach, reeking of mildew mixed with decay.

    "This is... depressing," Aubrey muttered under her breath.

    "I have a bad feeling..." Levy muttered quietly as he trailed close behind her.

    They found Seraphine standing alone in one room near an old desk against its rear wall¡ªan office once belonging to a medical professional judging by its layout.

    "Anything good?" Aubrey asked as she approached beside the huntress, noting that Seraphine rummaging through drawers. The room itself looked relatively untouched, albeit in an equal state of neglect as the rest.

    "Not sure yet..." came Seraphine''s distracted reply, still engrossed in her search.

    With the lack of anything interesting happening yet, Aubrey began wandering around the space, poking at objects and poking about. At first, it didn''t seem like there would be anything worth checking, just another dead end... but one look at a staircase hidden in the corner gave Aubrey pause.

    Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

    Another memory flashed through her mind, this one of running barefooted up metal stairs with the clattering steps of boots close behind. She could still feel the icy chill seeping through her hospital gown, clinging to her skin like frost against a windowpane.

    She approached the staircase and brushed her hand against the wall beneath it, tracing a finger across faint lines etched deep into the concrete there. "This..."

    Her fingers found their way underneath a small groove carved into its side. With a gentle tug upward, she slid open a section of the wall, revealing another passage hidden behind it.

    "Hey... I found something over here!" she shouted.

    Levy and Seraphine were quick to join her side again and together they descended down a steep flight of stairs until reaching the bottom where another hallway lay in wait below.

    This place looks... familiar.

    More memories came flooding back as she gazed ahead at rows upon rows of dark rooms lining both sides of a narrow hallway, their doors hanging open or half-smashed apart, letting out cold air from within. She walked past all these chambers in silence, staring straight ahead while Levy and Seraphine kept pace behind her.

    Eventually she stopped at a heavy steel door at the end of the corridor where a large glass window dominated most of its surface, gazing inside towards what appeared to be some kind of surgical theater. "This...is the same room in my memories."

    "Memories? How do you mean?" Seraphine pressed.

    "It''s where..." Aubrey started but trailed off after seeing what lay beyond it. Or rather, what lacked within the sterile chamber¡ªor its surroundings more specifically. "Where... the experiments took place."

    Levy and Seraphine turned to follow her line of sight towards an operating table set against one wall, complete with straps holding down someone''s wrists, ankles, waist, and neck.

    "What exactly happened here?" Levy asked.

    Seraphine stepped closer towards Aubrey until they stood right next to each other in front of the window. She raised her hand, placing it flat against its smooth surface as she stared through its glass at the empty room beyond it. "Whatever they did here, I have a feeling we''re going to find something unpleasant if we continue exploring further."

    A clattering noise from an adjacent corridor interrupted whatever response Aubrey could give. All three of them turned sharply in unison towards its source¡ªa shadowy passage just beyond the surgical theater where dim lights flickered intermittently overhead, casting ominous flickering shadows along its walls.

    "Stay together, no splitting up," Seraphine ordered as she began striding towards the source of the noise, drawing her rapier from its scabbard at her hip in one smooth motion. A faint green light enveloped its length from hilt to tip before settling back into the metal itself once more.

    Both Levy and Aubrey followed suit in silence as the three moved single file toward whatever awaited them beyond the shadows, their footsteps echoing loudly through this still place.

    A loud metallic scrape from somewhere ahead made everyone stop short in their tracks. The sound repeated a moment later, followed by shuffling sounds like someone dragging heavy objects across a smooth floor.

    Seraphine raised a closed fist, signaling them to remain still and quiet.

    Then all three fell completely quiet as they watched a figure appear from around a distant corner.

    Chains draped around its form like a macabre cloak. They trailed along after it wherever it went, dragging across stone tiles in their wake as its feet scuffed forward in lumbering steps.

    The figure''s head was bowed, its face obscured by a mass of tangled hair. Its arms hung limply by its sides as though broken and useless appendages, while its chest appeared sunken, caved in upon itself.

    It stopped once it noticed the trio standing just ahead of it, lifting its head enough for them to glimpse a face that appeared sallow, pallid, and bloodless, with eyes sunk deep into hollowed pits within its skull and lips sewn shut with strands of shadowy thread.

    Aubrey felt a whispering voice brush against her mind, soft and insistent, like the rustle of leaves in a forgotten grove.

    Help... me...

    Free me... please... free me...

    I''m begging... save... me... free... me...

    Those pleas echoed ceaselessly until the creature threw its head back, issuing forth a muffled wail behind its sealed mouth before lunging forward with frightening speed, its chains whipping out behind it like living things driven by an unseen will.

    At the same time, Seraphine leapt ahead, raising her blade above her head in a reverse grip.

    The blade met the chains with a shower of sparks, causing the creature''s lunge to veer away just past their group and slamming into the brick wall on their right instead. It slid to the floor in a writhing heap of limbs, thrashing around wildly while its body contorted into unnatural shapes.

    Levy¡¯s voice rose in a chant, his talismans glowing with a soft, ethereal light. He hurled one at the figure, the paper sticking to its chest and burning with an unearthly fire. The chains reacted instantly, whipping toward him in response.

    One chain struck the floor where Levy had been a moment ago, but another managed to graze his thigh and coiled tightly around his ankle. With one leg lifted from beneath, he fell hard onto his back.

    Seraphine sprang forward with her sword flashing toward the coil binding his foot. The glowing rapier sliced straight through it. The chain unwound itself from around Levy, slithering back towards the creature as it pulled itself upright again.

    Aubrey watched all this unfold without moving, her gaze transfixed upon the thing standing amidst its shroud of manacles. She stared intently into its vacant eyes as it glared back, its mouth still sewn shut. The whispers filled her head again, pleading with her for release.

    Another noise snapped Aubrey''s attention to their right, where several more figures had appeared at the opposite end of the hallway. Three patients in tattered hospital gowns shuffled towards their group, heads bowed low like marionettes with broken strings.

    These looked more ghoulish than the one with the chains: skin grey and rotting, flesh pitted and torn, eyes milky white with blackened sclerae. Their arms hung uselessly at their sides, fingers claw-like as their nails scraped across concrete and stone while dragging themselves forward through sheer force of will alone.

    Well, at least ghouls were slow and stupid. And easy targets for blunt force trauma.

    But their shambling gait quickly picked up into a stumbling jog, then into an outright run that made them seem less dead¡ªjust extremely hungry instead.

 Chapter 46: Overture

    "Shit..."

    Aubrey sidestepped away from them just in time to avoid one''s grasping hands as it reached out toward her with its mouth open wide in anticipation of its meal, revealing a dark maw full of jagged teeth and tattered remains of a tongue hanging limp between cracked lips.

    At the same moment, the ghouls behind these newcomers stirred from their torpor too, drawing themselves upright until they stood erect like people awakening from slumber. They stepped forth in slow steps, but gained in speed with each stride until they joined the others in charging toward Seraphine and Levy.

    The latter raised his athame defensively in one hand while reciting another incantation under his breath, chanting softly while waving a lit ofuda over his head. He then tossed it towards the nearest pair of ghouls that came within range, causing an explosion of bright flame that sent both undead flying off their feet and crashing into the wall.

    Seraphine danced around them, ducking beneath flailing limbs and weaving between grasping claws with the grace of a ballerina. She slashed at legs and cut down reaching arms whenever possible, though none of those attacks slowed their advance at all.

    Meanwhile, the first attacker¡ªthe thing with chains, let out a muffled scream as it threw itself forward at Aubrey, its body contorting into strange angles.

    [Harmonic Synesthesia activated]

    Aubrey felt her senses heighten in tandem with an internal music beginning to play in her head, drowning out everything else around her and pulling her mind into focus. The melody sounded akin to Mozart''s "Don Giovanni Overture," with strong brass and strings dominating its crescendos.

    With the music came clarity. She saw the creature''s every move before it could reach her, dodging every chain flung outwards and sidestepping away from each lunge as though she could see its entire trajectory in advance. Its speed and strength seemed to be increasing as the fight went on, but she could still match its pace with ease.

    [Ability: Veil of Dispair Activated! Duration: 24 seconds; Cooldown: 60 seconds]

    [Creatures within two meters will take necrotic damage every 6 seconds]

    Its body twisted into impossible shapes, whipping around in circles so fast that its chains acted like living ropes. Still, Aubrey managed to avoid them all, spinning around on her heels and crouching down low before dashing to the side and rolling out of its attack range.

    As soon as Veil of Despair took effect, dark wisps of smoke rose from the creature''s skin, seeping upwards through the gaps in its manacles like thin strands of blackened vapor. Its movements slowed slightly, no doubt feeling the pain from the necrosis afflicting it.

    It twisted itself upright once more, raising its head enough for them both to gaze into each others'' eyes. She met those cold, lifeless things without flinching. They looked dead¡ªlike empty mirrors with nothing reflecting within them, only voids staring back. But beneath their surface ran currents of emotion, swirling endlessly within their dark depths: hatred... anger... desperation.

    Help me!!!

    Its mouth moved, although its lips remained sewn shut. Aubrey knew she heard it speaking though¡ªfelt its thoughts pressing against hers as though trying to pass through some barrier blocking it from entering further. Its voice sounded female; however, its tone sounded hollow and devoid of life, as if spoken through a veil of mist shrouding its originator.

    The whispers grew louder as it advanced toward her.

    Help me!! Free me!!!

    It threw itself at her again, twisting through the air into a spiral while snapping out with both arms. Meanwhile, two ghouls came running toward Aubrey from the other side, reaching out to grab hold of anything within reach with their clawed hands.

    "Oh no, you don''t."

    [Ability: Dance of the Marionette Activated! Duration: 15 seconds; Cooldown: 45 seconds]

    Aubrey belted out a note, its timbre piercing the air like a blade. Her hair flew back from her shoulders as she raised both arms above her head, clenching fists to focus her will. The two approaching ghouls immediately responded to her mental commands, pivoting around on the balls of their feet until they faced off against the chained horror.

    They intercepted its charge, blocking its advance long enough for Aubrey to check on Seraphine and Levy. The former had downed the last of the ghoulish patients, leaving their bodies strewn about the floor. Meanwhile, Levy still struggled to fend off two other undead, dodging their wild attacks while slicing at their legs with his athame whenever an opportunity presented itself.

    "Hey guys! Need a hand?" she shouted before letting out a second note that caused another change in their movements: the two puppets under Aubrey''s influence began swinging their limbs in perfect sync with each other''s rhythm. Each step matched the beat, creating a symphonic tempo for her magic to manifest as she directed them against their attacker.

    The creature bent its frame into grotesque contortions, twisting out of reach just enough to avoid most strikes. It retaliated by flinging out two lengths of chain that whipped through the air like living whips, lashing out repeatedly at her puppets. Every blow that struck flesh tore away large strips of decaying flesh, leaving behind gaping wounds that oozed black ichor and necrotic rot.

    [Puppet "D" and Puppet "E" are damaged beyond use.]

    [Unhallowed Creature "Frenzied Patient #417 (Chained Whisperer)" resisted damage from Veil of Despair!]

    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    Her attack hadn''t done nearly enough damage to bring it down yet, but it definitely looked worse for wear since their encounter began.

    Its chains shimmered with magical runes, giving off the impression of molten metal flowing over its body like molasses dripping onto concrete. Those same runes seemed familiar to Aubrey somehow... though she couldn''t quite place where or when she''d seen them.

    Suddenly, the cadence of the music within Aubrey changed abruptly; a discordant dissonance added to its melody, disrupting the rhythm and throwing off her concentration.

    A ghastly chain shot out, aiming directly towards Aubrey who lunged to her right, barely ducking beneath the attack.

    Something struck her square in the back mid-roll, sending her sprawling onto her stomach onto the floor with a gasp escaping through gritted teeth. She scrambled up onto all fours, glancing behind herself at the offending thing that hit her.

    One chain had curled itself around her ankle and began tightening around her leg tightly. Its barbed ends dug deep furrows into her flesh while dragging her across the stone tiles beneath until it pinned her flat against the ground.

    She grabbed at its links with both hands, fingers digging into their rough edges until they bled freely down her hands and wrists. Her muscles burned in protest as she tried pulling herself free while simultaneously attempting to prevent it from reeling her in any further towards the waiting monster.

    "Hey! Someone! A little fucking help here!"

    Seraphine immediately leapt into action, darting forward toward Aubrey while swinging her sword with all her strength against the length of chain connecting them both. She struck it repeatedly, breaking pieces away with each impact until its barbs released their hold from Aubrey.

    The chained horror let out a muffled growl, turning towards her instead of finishing off its original target. It threw itself through the air, chains snapping outwards on either side like ropes swinging out towards an anchor point.

    Aubrey felt Seraphine push her aside as she lunged underneath its attacks, rolling across the floor before leaping into a graceful pirouette. She swept one foot forward in a smooth arc across its stomach, kicking it back hard enough to force it staggering backwards several steps.

    A second later, Seraphine''s blade arced overhead before coming down onto its shoulder, biting deep into its flesh as she pulled it free with an angry hiss escaping her lips. Then she twirled once more, spinning about on the balls of her feet again before launching another attack with her sword held diagonally across her chest¡ªonly to be met by several chains lashing out in unison against her body.

    Their combined impacts sent her sailing through the air, smashing through an office desk behind them and crashing into a heap atop broken wood splinters.

    She lay still for a moment until Levy rushed past Aubrey without a word, running straight towards the downed huntress and kneeling down beside her. He reached into his coat with one hand as he examined her injuries. After a moment he produced a small silver flask and uncorked it with his teeth before tipping its contents down Seraphine''s throat.

    While Levy tended to his partner, Aubrey set her sights upon the enemy before her and belted forth a note, its pitch reverberating deep within the stone walls surrounding them and shaking loose dust and debris down upon their heads.

    [Skill: Mirage of the Elusive Motif Activated! Duration: 15 seconds; Cooldown: 40 seconds]

    Three phantom doppelgangers manifested by Aubrey''s side. Each wore a grin on their faces identical to her own as they advanced towards their enemy, swinging their arms and legs in mock battle stances.

    "Let''s fucking go!" Aubrey yelled as she charged the creature too, dodging beneath its slashing manacles as they whipped past her face, grazing against her skin. The cooldown on her Veil of Despair ability had expired at last, allowing her to use it once more. With it, the creature''s movements slowed considerably from the necrotic poison sapping its strength while her illusions continued pummeling away at its frame.

    [Ability: Echoes of Anguish Activated! Duration: 20 seconds; Cooldown: 45 seconds]

    A dark aura wrapped around her clawed hands as she lunged outwards in a flurry of blows aimed at the creature, its chains striking against her forearms with enough force to bruise flesh beneath but failing to break bone. Its maimed mouth twisted up into an expression resembling a maniacal grin as the pair of adversaries engaged in this deadly dance of death.

    Let me free!!! Help me!!!!

    How the fuck was she supposed to do that when it''s trying to rip her goddamn arms off?! Aubrey mentally screamed while evading another chain swung towards her head.

    She threw herself sideways onto all fours, landing heavily as yet another impact hit home against her ribs¡ªthis time hard enough to draw a gasp from her lips followed immediately after by blood spilling down between them.

    The creature loomed over her with both arms raised.

    Something flashed past Aubrey''s vision¡ªa streak of bright green light as Seraphine''s blade streaked through the air before connecting solidly into the creature''s chest. It stumbled back with a guttural groan before turning back towards Aubrey''s phantom counterparts instead.

    "Looks like you could use some help," Seraphine said dryly, still looking slightly dazed from her earlier assault.

    "Thanks for joining the party!" Aubrey retorted as she quickly pushed herself upright with one hand pressed firmly against the cracked floor beneath while the other wiped away blood leaking from one corner of her mouth. "I don''t suppose you know of any exorcism techniques, do ya?"

    "What do you mean?" Seraphine queried with arched brows as they advanced together towards the enraged creature still focused on Aubrey''s decoys. She raised her rapier in readiness for combat despite her battered appearance and obvious fatigue.

    "Can''t you hear it? Those pleas for help, those whispers..." Aubrey asked before trailing off, realizing how that statement probably made her look crazy. "It''s... it''s saying that we need to set it free."

    Seraphine looked at her as if she had just grown two heads. Her tone sounded unconvinced as she replied, "N-no. I haven''t heard anything like that at all. Levy?" She glanced over to him. "Did you happen to notice anything strange while fighting this thing?"

    Levy shrugged from behind his glowing talisman. "Just that it looks absolutely pissed off... I''ve never heard of an Unhallowed asking to be saved though..."

    "Okay. Great," Aubrey sighed heavily while shaking her head. "Looks like I''m stuck in a bad movie trope of hearing voices only to get myself into more shit."

    Still, though... something about the situation nagged at Aubrey. Those thoughts repeated themselves over and over within her head¡ªlike an itch that wouldn''t go away until she scratched it hard enough to draw blood.

    Aubrey''s gaze narrowed as she watched the creature flail against her illusions who were beginning to fade with each second.

    If that thing really thought that she could simply set it free... then there must be a way for her to accomplish such a task with her current abilities. Maybe it didn''t require some fancy incantations or ritualistic gestures either¡ªjust sheer force of willpower mixed with a dash of cleverness thrown in for good measure.

    But most of her skills and abilities cursed or harmed others, not granted them mercy! So what if... well, perhaps if she combined a few together in combination with something else entirely then perhaps....

 Mechanics of Calamity

    Attributes

    Tempo

    Tempo directly affects Aubrey''s agility and responsiveness. High Tempo allows for quicker execution of attacks, faster movement across the battlefield, and the ability to react swiftly to incoming threats. This attribute is crucial for dodging attacks, executing rapid strikes, and generally staying one step ahead of opponents. Skills that require precise timing, such as dodging or executing combo attacks, benefit immensely from a higher Tempo, as Aubrey can synchronize her actions more closely with the rhythm of combat.

    Dynamics

    Dynamics controls the raw power behind Aubrey''s physical and magical efforts. A higher Dynamics rank means her attacks can break through defenses more easily and her protective measures can absorb more damage. It''s the driving force behind the impact of her actions. Offensive skills and abilities gain increased damage, while defensive skills provide more robust protection.

    Timbre

    Timbre, representing the unique color and quality of Aubrey''s abilities, affects how these abilities interact with the environment and opponents. For example, a skill with a ''soft'' Timbre might be more effective against certain types of magical barriers, blending or weaving through them without triggering defensive spells. Timbre allows Aubrey to modify the ''sound'' or ''feel'' of her magic to better suit the situation¡ªaltering a flame attack to emit a low hum to pass through sound-sensitive barriers or changing the ''color'' of her illusion abilities to make them more convincing against creatures sensitive to specific visual cues. Timbre can make her abilities more versatile and adaptable, enabling creative solutions to obstacles.

    Pitch

    Pitch determines the effective range of Aubrey''s skills, from whisper-quiet incantations that affect only the target to booming declarations that can impact an entire battlefield. High Pitch can extend the reach of her spells and abilities, allowing her to affect targets from a greater distance or to encompass a wider area. Long-range abilities benefit from increased Pitch, as do abilities that require precise control over their auditory impact. Pitch can also influence the ability to communicate or command over distances, making it essential for battlefield coordination.

    Harmony

    Harmony enhances Aubrey''s ability to work in concert with her allies and the natural environment. It could improve the efficacy of joint attacks, defense strategies, and even the potency of healing spells when used in sync with others. Skills that require or benefit from teamwork, such as combo attacks or shared defensive barriers, are significantly enhanced by a high Harmony level. This attribute allows Aubrey to draw upon environmental elements, using the natural rhythm of the surroundings to bolster her powers.

    Resonance

    Resonance amplifies the strength and duration of Aubrey''s abilities and those of her allies. It''s akin to turning up the volume on her power, making every action resonate more profoundly with its target. Buffs, debuffs, and area-of-effect abilities have their effects magnified, both in intensity and reach. Resonance also enhances the impact of musical or sound-based abilities, making them more disorienting or captivating to foes.

    Cadence

    Cadence allows Aubrey to dictate the pace of combat, slowing down or accelerating the flow of actions as needed. This control can disrupt opponents'' strategies, making it easier for her and her allies to take the initiative. By altering the cadence of her attacks, Aubrey can catch enemies off-guard, making it difficult for them to predict and counter her moves. Defensive abilities could last longer or take effect at just the right moment, providing crucial protection in the heat of battle.

    Riff

    Riff grants Aubrey the flexibility to improvise and adapt her skills on the fly, introducing unexpected variations that can confuse and outmaneuver opponents. It''s the embodiment of creativity in combat, offering her a way to break free from predictable patterns. This attribute enables Aubrey to modify the effects of abilities mid-cast, switch targets seamlessly, or even blend two abilities into a new, unexpected form. It''s particularly useful in situations where adaptability and quick thinking are key to overcoming challenges.

    <hr>

    Harmonic Synesthesia

    Overview: Harmonic Synesthesia is a unique and integral component of Aubrey''s combat system, representing a fusion of her musical talents and newfound mystical abilities. This core mechanic transcends traditional battle senses, allowing Aubrey to perceive and interact with her environment and adversaries on a much deeper, almost instinctual level.

    During combat, Aubrey experiences the world around her not just visually but as an intricate symphony of movements and intentions, with each action of her opponents translating into visual and auditory cues. These cues manifest as arrows, beats, and rhythmic patterns, each synchronized with the underlying cadence of the encounter, transforming the chaos of battle into a dance that Aubrey alone can navigate with precision.

    Melee Combat: In the thick of melee combat, Aubrey''s perception alters dramatically. The space around her, filled with adversaries, becomes a stage where every movement and intention emits its own distinct rhythm and pattern. Glowing lines and arrows outline potential strikes and maneuvers of her foes, pulsating to the beat of an unseen drummer.

    This visual spectacle is accompanied by a rich tapestry of sounds, where each enemy''s approach or attack is heralded by unique musical cues, allowing Aubrey to identify and react to threats with unparalleled grace. The rhythm of combat ebbs and flows, with the tempo increasing during moments of high tension and danger, requiring Aubrey to match her movements and strikes to the beat, weaving through her enemies with the precision of a dancer.

    Ranged Combat: When facing threats from afar, Aubrey''s Harmonic Synesthesia shifts to emphasize anticipation and projection. She perceives incoming projectiles not just as mere objects but as notes in a broader melody, with their trajectories illuminated by lines and curves marked with rhythmic indicators. This allows her to position herself and aim her own attacks with a rhythm that harmonizes with the battlefield''s deadly symphony. The paths of arrows and spells become lines on a musical score, which Aubrey reads and responds to, dodging and countering with the timing of a seasoned musician hitting her cues.

    Offensive vs Defensive Use: Offensively, Aubrey''s ability sharpens her attacks, turning each strike into a crescendo. The patterns she perceives become more aggressive, guiding her to exploit openings and weaknesses in her opponents'' defenses with precise, rhythmically-timed assaults. Defensively, the patterns shift to a focus on anticipation and evasion, allowing her to flow through the gaps in her enemies'' onslaught, each movement a measured rest in the composition of battle. This dual nature of Harmonic Synesthesia makes Aubrey a formidable combatant, capable of shifting seamlessly between offense and defense, leading her adversaries in a deadly dance to her own beat.

    <hr>

    Sonata Path

    The Sonata Path skill tree is structured around the principles of a musical sonata, emphasizing balance, structure, and adaptability in combat. This path allows for a versatile approach, enabling practitioners to seamlessly switch between offense and defense, adapting their strategy to the flow of battle. It is for those who, like a composer, understands the value of movement and counter-movement, of action and reaction.

    Tier 1: Introduction

    ¡îIntroit of the Valiant Heart: (Passive) Enhances basic attacks with a rhythmic flow, increasing their speed and precision.

    ¡îDance of the Swift Gale: (Passive) Improves movement speed and agility, enabling quicker dodges and positioning.

    Tier 2: Exposition

    *Requires unlocking at least one Tier 1 skill.

    *Requires achieving Andante rank

    Aegis of Harmonic Accord: A defensive stance that rhythmically syncs with incoming attacks to reduce damage.

    Climactic Blow of Crescendo: A charging attack that grows in power with each rhythmic hit, culminating in a powerful blow.

    ¡îSonorous Counterpoint: A counter-attack skill that activates upon a successful parry, dealing damage and disorienting the opponent. Cooldown: 10 seconds.

    Disarm with a Gentle Whisper: A skill that aims to disarm opponents through a series of calculated, gentle yet precise strikes, playing on the softer side of musical dynamics.

    Tier 3: Development

    *Requires unlocking at least two Tier 2 skills.

    *Requires achieving Allegretto rank

    Echoing Riposte of the Depths: A counter-attack skill that activates upon a successful parry, dealing damage and disorienting the opponent.

    Resonance Within the Battle Hymn: Enhances the user''s next few attacks or defenses to sync perfectly with the battle''s rhythm, increasing their effectiveness.

    Resilience in the Rondo''s Embrace: Enhances endurance, allowing the practitioner to sustain minor continuous damage over time without faltering.

    Intuition''s Whisper Between Notes: (Passive) Boosts the character''s ability to predict enemy movements, increasing the chance to dodge and counter.

    Tier 4: Recapitulation

    *Requires unlocking at least two Tier 3 skills.

    *Requires achieving Fortissimo rank

    Tempest''s Cadence Unleashed: A powerful area-of-effect attack that combines speed and power, mirroring the complexity and culmination of a musical sonata''s finale.

    Wrath of the Thunderous Fortissimo: Unleashes a barrage of rapid, high-intensity attacks, each hit resonating with the power of the crescendo.

    Advance with the Force of the Storme: A powerful forward charge that breaks through enemy lines, embodying the bold and strong nature of the forte dynamic.

    Tier 5: Coda

    *Requires unlocking at least two Tier 4 skills.

    *Requires achieving Cantabile rank

    Cantabile of Wuthering Waves: A skill that reinforces the user''s attacks with echoes of previous hits, increasing damage cumulatively.

    Embrace Under the Veil of Adagio: A skill that momentarily slows the flow of combat around the practitioner, providing a brief respite to reassess and react, encapsulating the slow and expressive nature of adagio.

    Crescendo of the Counterpoint: A skill that builds in intensity with each exchange in combat, leading to a powerful counterattack. Accumulates energy with each block or dodge, unleashing a powerful counter when a threshold is reached.

    Tier 6: Finale

    *Requires unlocking at least one Tier 5 skill.

    *Requires achieving Interlude rank

    Concerto of Finality: The ultimate expression of the Sonata Path, this skill harmonizes all previous attacks and defenses into a single, continuous flow, maximizing damage output and defensive capabilities for a short duration.

    <hr>

    Rondo Route

    The Rondo Route is designed around the principles of endurance and repetition, making it ideal for sustained engagements and battles against multiple foes. This skill tree focuses on durability, resource management, and the ability to maintain a consistent level of performance over long periods. The circular nature of the rondo is mirrored in their combat style, where the end of one engagement seamlessly flows into the beginning of another, creating a cycle of unending resilience.

    Tier 1: Prelude

    ¡îFootsteps Amidst Echoes: (Passive) Increases stamina regeneration, allowing for sustained movement in battle.

    Enduring Chords of Harmony: (Passive) Boosts the character''s base health regeneration, representing a steady flow of vitality.

    Tier 2: Refrain

    *Requires unlocking at least one Tier 1 skill.

    *Requires achieving Andante rank

    Guardian''s Circle of the Endless: A defensive stance that offers continuous protection against multiple attackers.

    Refrain of Resolve: Regenerates a small amount of health with each rhythmic hit landed on opponents.

    Eternal Beat of the Warrior''s Heart: (Passive) Improves melee attack efficiency, reducing stamina consumption for repeated strikes.

    Echoes of Persistence: (Passive) Increases defense with each successful block or parry, stacking up over time.

    Tier 3: Verse

    *Requires unlocking at least two Tier 2 skills.

    *Requires achieving Allegretto rank

    Infinite Echoes of Vigor: A skill that temporarily increases the effectiveness of all regeneration effects on the character.

    Choir of Unyielding Courage: Provides a temporary shield to the character when health drops below a certain threshold, symbolizing a resurgence of energy.

    Farthest Reach of the Ritornello: (Passive) Extends the range and impact of all area-of-effect abilities, mirroring the repetitive yet expanding nature of a rondo''s ritornello.

    Lure of the Steady Pulse: A skill that briefly roots the character in place but significantly increases defense and counterattack power.

    Tier 4: Bridge

    *Requires unlocking at least two Tier 3 skills.

    *Requires achieving Fortissimo rank

    Rebirth at the Da Capo: A powerful skill that, upon activation, resets all cooldowns, allowing the character to re-enter the fray with renewed vigor.

    Resurgence in the Silent Refrain: Significantly enhances the character''s stamina and health regeneration rates for a short period, embodying the theme of recovery and repetition inherent in a rondo.

    Relentless Assault of the Ostinato: Grants the ability to maintain attack sequences longer, with each consecutive hit within a combo dealing increased damage.

    Tier 5: Cadenza

    *Requires unlocking at least two Tier 4 skills.

    *Requires achieving Cantabile rank

    Stalwart Melody of the Cantus Firmus: Solidifies the character''s defensive capabilities, making them nearly impervious to damage for a brief period.

    Fervent Spirit of the Fugato: Increases attack speed and power dramatically for a short duration, allowing for a flurry of blows that can overwhelm opponents.

    Unfading Vigor of the Rondo: The pinnacle skill of the Rondo Route, it provides a permanent passive boost to all regeneration rates and damage resistances, signifying the ultimate mastery of endurance and repetition.

    Tier 6: Finale

    *Requires unlocking at least one Tier 5 skill.

    *Requires achieving Interlude rank

    Capriccio''s Climactic Crescendo: A devastating final move that unleashes the stored energy from sustained combat, dealing massive area damage based on the length of time spent in battle prior to activation.

    <hr>

    Fugue Journey

    The Fugue Journey skill tree is inspired by the complexity and interwoven melodies of a fugue, focusing on intricate, multi-layered skills that confuse and outmaneuver opponents. This path specializes in deception, agility, and strategic use of the battlefield to gain an advantage. Practitioners become masters of misdirection, using their skills to weave a tapestry of attacks and movements as complex and unpredictable as a fugue''s contrapuntal lines.

    Tier 1: Subject

    ¡îGenesis of the Illusive Mirage: Creates a basic decoy to distract enemies, drawing their attention away from the user. The decoy cannot inflict damage. Cold iron or silver weapons dispel the copy. Duration: 12 seconds; Cooldown: 20 seconds

    ¡îCadence Amidst Counterpoints: (Passive) Increases evasion, allowing the user to gracefully sidestep attacks, mirroring the counterpoint in a fugue where two melodies play off each other.

    Tier 2: Answer

    *Requires unlocking at least one Tier 1 skill.

    *Requires achieving Andante rank

    ¡îVeil of the Hidden Stretto: (Passive) Enhances stealth capabilities, making the user harder to detect when moving.

    ¡îVault Over the Augmented Bounds: (Passive) Improves jump height and distance, enabling access to vantage points or quick retreats.

    Grip of the Diminishing Resolve: A trapping skill that briefly immobilizes the target, representing a diminution in a fugue where the theme is shortened. Duration: 30 seconds; Cooldown: 180 seconds

    Reflection of the Ominous Tune: Reflects a portion of damage back to the attacker with a successful dodge.

    Tier 3: Counter-Subject

    *Requires unlocking at least two Tier 2 skills.

    *Requires achieving Allegretto rank

    ¡îMirage of the Elusive Motif: Generates three sophisticated decoys, increasing the confusion among enemies. These copies have a limited capacity to act independently and can deal minor damage to foes. Cold iron or silver weapons dispel the copies. Duration: 15 seconds; Cooldown: 40 seconds

    ¡îEscape Through Inverted Realms: A skill that allows instant repositioning, flipping one¡¯s position with that of a decoy or enemy, akin to an inversion in a fugue where the theme is mirrored. Duration: Instant; Range: 8 meters; Cooldown: 30 seconds

    Mimicry''s Resonating Strike: Copies the last skill used by an enemy, allowing for a mimicry-based counter.

    Polyphonic Ploy: Allows for simultaneous execution of two different, lower-tier skills.

    Tier 4: Episode

    *Requires unlocking at least two Tier 3 skills.

    *Requires achieving Fortissimo rank

    Finesse of the Woven Fugue: Enhances all evasion, stealth skills, and reduces skill cooldowns, allowing for continuous fluid movement and deception.

    Summoning of the Echoing Canons: Summons a temporary ally that mimics the user''s last three actions, creating a canon effect in combat.

    Sanctuary of the Pedal Point: Establishes a temporary zone where the user is significantly harder to hit, symbolizing the pedal point in a fugue that provides harmonic stability.

    Tier 5: Stretto

    *Requires unlocking at least two Tier 4 skills.

    *Requires achieving Cantabile rank

    The Enigma''s Binding Chains: Sets elaborate traps that trigger a series of debilitating effects on enemies, weaving a complex web akin to the overlapping entries of a stretto in a fugue.

    Onslaught of Imitative Fury: Launches a series of attacks that mimic the actions of nearby allies or enemies, increasing in intensity with each repetition.

    Swift Reduction''s Bound: (Passive) Reduces the cooldowns of other active skills when successfully dodging an attack.

    Tier 6: Final Cadence

    *Requires unlocking at least one Tier 5 skill.

    *Requires achieving Interlude rank

    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    Culmination of the Fugue''s Odyssey: The ultimate skill of the Fugue Journey, it unleashes a flurry of attacks from all active decoys and traps, coordinated in a harmonious assault that mimics the conclusive cadence of a fugue.

    <hr>

    Adagio Avenue

    Adagio Avenue invites those who embody patience and strategic foresight, transforming the battlefield into a canvas where every movement is deliberate, and every strike carries the weight of certainty. This path is for those who dance in the spaces between seconds, wielding the slow burn of anticipation as their weapon. Skills developed here focus on turning the tide of battle through calculated defense, powerful counterattacks, and the ability to withstand onslaughts until the perfect moment for retaliation reveals itself.

    Tier 1: Largo Foundation

    Stride of Measured Time: (Passive) Increases resistance to knockback and stun effects, allowing the user to maintain their position.

    Guardian''s Graceful Poise: (Passive) Enhances the effectiveness of blocking and parrying, reducing incoming damage by a small amount.

    Tier 2: Andante Advancement

    *Requires unlocking at least one Tier 1 skill.

    *Requires achieving Andante rank

    Strategem of the Slowed Tempo: Slows down incoming attacks, making them easier to dodge or counter.

    Blow of the Sombre Chord: Adds a stunning effect to certain attacks, symbolizing the heavy impact of a well-timed blow.

    Chain of the Flowing Legato: (Passive) Improves the fluidity of transitions between defensive and offensive maneuvers, reducing the recovery time between actions.

    Reply of Swift Harmony: A counter-attack move that quickly strikes back after a successful dodge.

    Tier 3: Moderato Mastery

    *Requires unlocking at least two Tier 2 skills.

    *Requires achieving Allegretto rank

    Stance of the Sustained Note: A defensive posture that gradually increases in effectiveness the longer it is held, culminating in a powerful counterattack opportunity.

    March of the Steadfast Beat: A skill that allows the user to move forward steadily, immune to crowd control effects.

    Bastion of the Steadfast: (Passive) Increases defense and resistance when standing still or moving slowly.

    Turn of the Directed Echo: Improves the ability to deflect projectiles and ranged attacks, turning the enemy''s strength against them.

    Tier 4: Adagietto Adaptation

    *Requires unlocking at least two Tier 3 skills.

    *Requires achieving Fortissimo rank

    Maestoso¡¯s Retribution: Empowers the next attack with overwhelming force, capable of staggering or knocking down the opponent.

    Pressure of the Weighty Pesante: Applies a debuff to enemies that gradually reduces their attack speed and damage the longer they remain in combat with the user.

    Counter with the Singing Cantabile: A skill that allows for an instant, graceful counterattack when successfully blocking or evading an enemy strike.

    Tier 5: Adagio Apex

    *Requires unlocking at least two Tier 4 skills.

    *Requires achieving Cantabile rank

    Bastion of the Deep Clef: Conjures a protective barrier that absorbs incoming damage and can explode outward, damaging nearby enemies.

    Lure into the Larghetto''s Embrace: Creates a zone that pulls enemies in slowly, disrupting their positioning and making them easy targets for area attacks.

    Aura of Affectionate Warmth: Generates an aura that calms the pace of the battle for allies, enhancing their defense and regeneration rates.

    Tier 6: Grandioso Conclusion

    *Requires unlocking at least one Tier 5 skill.

    *Requires achieving Interlude rank

    Liberation Under the Lento''s Spell: The ultimate skill of Adagio Avenue, it dramatically slows all enemies in a large area while granting the user a significant boost in power and defense, allowing for a deliberate and decisive strike against weakened foes.

    <hr>

    Allegro Street

    Allegro Street beckons to the spirited and swift, those with the zest to dash into the fray and the agility to emerge unscathed. It is a path defined by the blur of motion and the rush of adrenaline, where each moment bursts with potential for rapid assaults and nimble evasions. Here, combatants thrive on the exhilaration of speed, weaving through enemies with the grace of a tempest. Skills honed in Allegro Street enhance one''s ability to deliver a flurry of attacks before the opponent can blink, embodying the essence of the storm that strikes swiftly and retreats only to strike again.

    Tier 1: Vivace Venture

    Flurry in the Rapid Tempo: (Passive) Increases the speed of basic attacks, allowing for quicker strike sequences.

    ¡îStaccato Step: (Passive) Enhances agility, allowing for quick, short bursts of movement to close distances or evade attacks.

    Tier 2: Accelerando Ascent

    *Requires unlocking at least one Tier 1 skill.

    *Requires achieving Andante rank

    Flick of the Furioso''s Wrath: A rapid melee attack that delivers multiple quick hits in succession.

    Shift with a Scherzando''s Whim: Enhances evasion, granting a brief invulnerability window during dodges.

    Shift in the Playful Dodge: (Passive) Improves dodge efficiency, reducing stamina cost and enabling a faster response time.

    Rush of the Resolute Risoluto: A fast, forward dash that damages and passes through enemies, ideal for penetrating enemy lines.

    Tier 3: Mosso Mastery

    *Requires unlocking at least two Tier 2 skills.

    *Requires achieving Fortissimo rank

    Assault of the Agitated Spirit: Increases attack speed for a short duration, allowing for a flurry of attacks.

    Passage Through the Ethereal Mist: A skill that momentarily makes the user intangible during sprints, allowing them to pass through enemies unharmed.

    Barrage in the Lustrous Tempest: Enables a powerful, fast-paced area attack that deals damage proportional to the user''s current speed.

    Crescendo of the Quickening Strikes: Gradually increases attack speed as the user lands consecutive hits, rewarding sustained aggression.

    Tier 4: Con Brio Burst

    *Requires unlocking at least two Tier 3 skills.

    *Requires achieving Vivace rank

    Passage Through the Ethereal Mist: A skill that momentarily makes the user intangible during sprints, allowing them to pass through enemies unharmed.

    Aura of the Quickening Allegretto: Creates an aura that speeds up the action of nearby allies, enhancing their combat effectiveness.

    Rush of the Enlivened Spirit: Significantly increases the user''s attack and movement speed for each enemy defeated, encouraging continuous engagement.

    Tier 5: Prestissimo Peak

    *Requires unlocking at least two Tier 4 skills.

    *Requires achieving Cantabile rank

    Veil of the Vivacious Wind: Grants a temporary speed boost that also deflects incoming projectiles.

    Strike of the Leaping Saltando: A leaping attack that deals damage in an area upon landing, with increased effectiveness based on the speed of approach.

    Chain of the Capricious Spirit: Allows the chaining of attacks with reduced delay between combos, making combo execution almost seamless.

    Tier 6: Finale Furioso

    *Requires unlocking at least one Tier 5 skill.

    *Requires achieving Interlude rank

    Uproar of the Final Unveiling: The ultimate expression of speed and aggression, this skill unleashes a devastating area attack that scales in damage with the user''s movement speed, turning their velocity into raw destructive power.

    <hr>

    Ritmo Road

    Ritmo Road offers a unique journey for those who perceive the underlying rhythm of combat, a path for tacticians who can read the ebb and flow of battle as easily as a conductor reads a score. This route is imbued with the art of timing and pattern recognition, allowing its disciples to manipulate the pace of combat to their favor. Skills cultivated along Ritmo Road enable the practitioner to disrupt, synchronize, and ultimately control the battlefield, turning the chaotic clamor of clashing swords into a harmonious symphony that plays to their tune.

    Tier 1: Beat Basics

    Clash in the Rhythm''s Tur: Empowers the user''s attacks to disrupt the enemy''s rhythm, causing brief disorientation or slowing their next action.

    ¡îShove of the Heartbeat''s Force: A skill that creates a shockwave timed to the combat''s rhythm, pushing back and damaging nearby enemies. Cooldown: 8 seconds.

    Tier 2: Tempo Tactics

    *Requires unlocking at least one Tier 1 skill.

    *Requires achieving Andante rank

    Riposte of the Rhythmic Echo: Reflects a portion of damage back to the attacker if the user blocks or dodges in time with the enemy''s strike rhythm.

    Ploy of the Polyrhythmic Dance: Confuses enemies by overlaying multiple rhythm patterns, making the user''s movements unpredictable.

    Haven of the Offbeat Symphony: Creates a zone where allies'' actions are sped up, synchronizing their rhythm for coordinated attacks.

    Break in the Striking Rhythm: Temporarily disrupts the attack speed of nearby enemies, throwing off their combat rhythm.

    Tier 3: Melodic Maneuvers

    *Requires unlocking at least two Tier 2 skills.

    *Requires achieving Allegretto rank

    Halt at Harmony''s Command: Temporarily freezes enemies in place by disrupting their combat rhythm, creating an opening for attack.

    Drive Through Dissonant Tides: A powerful strike that breaks through enemy defenses if their rhythm is disrupted, causing additional damage.

    Strike Amidst Syncopated Shadows: Deals extra damage when attacking in an off-beat pattern, exploiting gaps in the enemy''s rhythm.

    Pulse of the Entwined Rhythms: Emits a pulse that affects enemy coordination, making their movements erratic for a short period.

    Tier 4: Rhythm Revolution

    *Requires unlocking at least two Tier 3 skills.

    *Requires achieving Fortissimo rank

    Barrage on the Beat''s Crest: A rapid sequence of attacks that must be executed in a specific rhythm, each hit increasing in damage.

    Disruption of Dynamic Flow: Alters the perceived combat tempo for enemies, making them either overextend or hesitate.

    Convergence of Counterpoint Whispers: Creates a zone where allies'' attacks are enhanced if they follow the rhythm set by the user, leading to a symphony of coordinated strikes.

    Tier 5: Crescendo Climax

    *Requires unlocking at least two Tier 4 skills.

    *Requires achieving Cantabile rank

    Reprise of the Contrasting Tune: A counter-attack that, when timed perfectly, can nullify an enemy''s attack and deal damage based on the enemy''s rhythm.

    Linkage Along the Legato''s Path: Connects a series of attacks and defenses into a flowing rhythm, each successful move increasing the effectiveness of the next.

    Ruin in the Rallentando''s Wake: A powerful skill that alters the intensity of the battle, weakening enemy attacks while strengthening those of the user and allies.

    Tier 6: Grand Finale

    *Requires unlocking at least one Tier 5 skill.

    *Requires achieving Interlude rank

    Momentum Under the Maestro''s Baton: The ultimate skill of Ritmo Road, it harmonizes the user''s every move with the battlefield''s rhythm, granting near-perfect offense and defense. Every action taken in sync with the combat rhythm amplifies the user''s power, culminating in a devastating final strike that echoes the climax of a grand musical performance.

    <hr>

    Banshee¡¯s Lament

    Banshee''s Lament draws upon the haunting and eerie aspects of the Banshee mythos, focusing on controlling the battlefield through fear, debuffs, and manipulation of enemies. This path is designed to disorient, weaken, and terrify opponents, making them easy targets for the Banshee and her allies.

    * All Banshee abilities are Active abilities unless stated as Passive

    Tier 1: Whispering Winds

    ¡îEerie Echo: (Passive) Enemies have a reduced chance to hit, affected by the unsettling whispers that linger around the Banshee.

    Woe¡¯s Whisper: Temporarily disorients a single target, making them vulnerable to follow-up attacks. Duration: 10 seconds; Cooldown: 30 seconds

    Sorrow''s Touch: (Passive) Basic attacks have a small chance to apply a minor debuff, reducing enemy defense by a small amount.

    Spectral Shriek: A short-range attack that briefly stuns the first enemy it hits, manifesting the Banshee''s sorrowful cry. Cooldown: 30 seconds

    Tier 2: Ghastly Dirges

    *Requires unlocking at least one Tier 1 skill.

    *Requires achieving Andante rank

    Grieving Gale: Unleashes a powerful scream that knocks back enemies and interrupts their actions. Cooldown: 40 seconds

    ¡îDissonant Chord: Emits a dissonant note that confuses a single enemy, making them attack their allies for a short time. Duration: 18 seconds; Cooldown: 30 seconds

    ¡îWoe-Begotten Whisper: Targets a single enemy, causing fear and making them flee in panic. Duration: 15 seconds; Cooldown: 120 seconds

    Banshee''s Bind: Temporarily roots enemies in place within a targeted area. Duration: 12 seconds; Cooldown: 30 seconds

    Mournful Mist: (Passive) Creates a fog around Aubrey that obscures enemies¡¯ vision, reducing their range of sight.

    Ethereal Echo: (Passive) Increases the range and effectiveness of all auditory-based skills.

    Keening Wind: (Passive) Increases the effect radius of all debuff skills.

    Desolate Cry: A powerful scream that debuffs enemies, reducing their damage output for a short period. Duration: 15 seconds; Cooldown: 45 seconds

    Tier 3: Spectral Sonata

    *Requires unlocking at least two Tier 2 skills.

    *Requires achieving Fortissimo rank

    Harbinger''s Hymn: A song that saps the will to fight, reducing enemy attack power and increasing the time between their attacks. Duration: 15 seconds; Cooldown: 40 seconds

    Dirge of Despair: A haunting song that slightly reduces enemy damage output and resistance. Duration: 18 seconds; Cooldown: 45 seconds

    Elegy of the Endless: (Passive) Enemies that stay too long in Aubrey''s aura suffer continuous damage over time.

    Phantom''s Fury: Summons a phantom that targets and harasses enemies, distracting them and causing random debuffs. Duration: 15 seconds; Cooldown: 45 seconds

    Pall of Despair: (Passive) Enemies defeated by the Banshee emit a wail that frightens nearby foes, reducing their will to fight.

    ¡îEchoes of Anguish: (Passive) Enemies that strike the Banshee are afflicted with a curse that damages them over time.

    ¡îVeil of Despair: (Passive) Enemies in close proximity to the Banshee have a constant, slow drain on their health.

    Widow''s Weep: (Passive) The Banshee''s critical hits cause enemies to bleed, suffering additional damage over time.

    Tier 4: Requiem of Ruin

    *Requires unlocking at least two Tier 3 skills.

    *Requires achieving Vivace rank

    Wail of the Damned: A devastating scream that significantly reduces enemy defense in a large area. Duration: 18 seconds; Cooldown: 60 seconds

    Spectral Chains: Summons ethereal chains that bind and slowly damage enemies. Duration: 15 seconds; Cooldown: 60 seconds

    Dreadful Decrescendo: Gradually diminishes the will of enemies, leading to decreased combat effectiveness the longer they fight against Aubrey. Duration: 60 seconds; Cooldown: 120 seconds

    Lamentation of Loss: (Passive) Enemies defeated by Aubrey''s abilities increase the morale of allies, boosting their speed and damage.

    Cadence of Sorrow: (Passive) The player''s movement and attack speed increase for each debuffed enemy nearby.

    Elegy of Entropy: A powerful song that decays enemy weapons, weakening their physical attacks. Duration: 30 seconds; Cooldown: 120 seconds

    Chorus of Woe: Summons powerful spectral figures that attack the Banshee''s enemies, causing confusion and fear. Duration: 30 seconds; Cooldown: 180 seconds

    Ghostly Guise: The Banshee becomes intangible for a few seconds, avoiding all damage but unable to attack. Duration: 3 seconds; Cooldown: 60 seconds

    Tier 5: Banshee''s Curse

    *Requires unlocking at least two Tier 4 skill.

    *Requires achieving Cantabile rank

    Curse of the Forsaken: Places a curse on enemies that spreads among those nearby, weakening their defenses and making them susceptible to further debuffs. Duration: 18 seconds; Cooldown: 45 seconds

    Shriek of the Void: An existential scream that causes enemies to experience a void, freezing them in place due to existential dread. Duration: 6 seconds; Cooldown: 60 seconds

    Echoes of the Departed: (Passive) Allies gain increased resilience against debuffs and recover faster from crowd control effects.

    Rhapsody of Ruination: A powerful dirge that saps the strength from enemies, transferring a portion of their drained power to Aubrey and her allies. Duration: 12 seconds; Cooldown: 40 seconds

    Elegy of the End: A powerful skill that executes low-health enemies within a certain radius, singing a final note that ends their suffering. Cooldown: 45 seconds

    Lament of the Lost: Revives fallen enemies as temporary allies, fighting alongside the Banshee. Duration: 30 seconds; Cooldown: 120 seconds

    Tier 6: Echo of Eternity

    *Requires unlocking at least two Tier 5 skills.

    *Requires achieving Interlude rank

    Final Dirge: Unleashes the full power of the Banshee''s wail, massively debuffing all enemies on the battlefield and dealing significant damage. This skill also has a chance to instantly kill a random enemy with low willpower. Cooldown: 600 seconds

    Eternal Lament: (Passive) Aubrey''s most potent debuffs become contagious, spreading from affected enemies to others nearby, weakening entire groups over time and making her presence on the battlefield a focal point of fear.

    Reverberation of Ruin: A focused, devastating scream that targets a single enemy, dealing immense damage and spreading potent debuffs to nearby foes. For every afflicted target killed, the debuffs continue to spread to those nearby. Cooldown: 300 seconds

    <hr>

    Banshee¡¯s Aria

    Banshee''s Aria weaves the ethereal essence of siren myths with the banshee''s haunting melodies, focusing on inspiration, manipulation, and direct control over allies and foes. This skill tree empowers the Banshee to use her voice to enchant and command, blending buffs, strategic influences, and captivating abilities that compel others to act against their will or bolster the prowess of her comrades. Through the haunting beauty of her songs, the Banshee orchestrates the battlefield, directing the flow of combat with an unseen, irresistible force.

    * All Banshee abilities are Active abilities unless stated as Passive.

    Tier 1: Ethereal Infusions

    Guarding Whisper: Increases the defense of nearby allies, wrapping them in a gentle, protective breeze. Duration: 45 seconds; Cooldown: 90 seconds

    ¡îEcho of Vitality: Enhances stamina recovery for the Banshee and her allies within a twenty-meter radius, using the invigorating power of soft, rhythmic echoes. Duration: 120 seconds; Cooldown: 240 seconds

    ¡îSwift Cadence: Enhances group movement speed, enabling rapid positioning and maneuvering. Duration: 90 seconds; Cooldown: 180 seconds

    Tier 2: Enthralling Invocations

    *Requires unlocking at least one Tier 1 skill.

    *Requires achieving Andante rank

    ¡îDance of the Marionette: Forces up to three enemies within twenty meters to move according to the Banshee''s whims, leaving them vulnerable. Duration: 15 seconds; Cooldown: 45 seconds

    Stride of Airs: Enhances agility, granting the Banshee and allies improved evasion and speed in maneuvering. Duration: 18 seconds; Cooldown: 40 seconds

    Gaze of the Entranced: Captivates enemies, reducing their will to fight and making them hesitate in their actions. Duration: 60 seconds; Cooldown: 100 seconds

    Whisper of Daring: Infuses a single ally with boldness, temporarily increasing their critical hit chance and evasion. Duration: 12 seconds; Cooldown: 35 seconds

    Breath of Vigor: Emits a revitalizing breath that instantly restores a portion of health to the Banshee and her nearest allies. Cooldown: 60 seconds

    ¡îChorus of Clarity: Clears the minds of allies, removing negative mental effects and briefly increasing their resistance to such effects in the future. Cooldown: 60 seconds

    ¡îMood Enducing Cantata: Banshees can use their voices to create a cantata that induces a variety of moods in listeners. When singing this cantata, the effects on the audience can range anywhere between calmness and rage. It can be a calming song to prevent hostility, a market song to induce trade, an energetic song to evoke creativity and spontaneity, and so on; Duration: 240 seconds; Cooldown: 480 seconds.

    Warrior¡¯s Hymn: Increases attack power by a moderate amount for you and all allies within twenty meters; Duration: 40 seconds. Cooldown: 90 seconds.

    Tier 3: Commanding Serenades

    *Requires unlocking at least two Tier 2 skills.

    *Requires achieving Allegretto rank

    Anthem of Da Capo: Reduces the cooldowns of all abilities for the Banshee and her allies, inspired by a powerful, driving anthem. Duration: 12 seconds; Cooldown: 90 seconds

    Calming Zephyr: Creates a zone of tranquility, reducing incoming damage for all who stand within its peaceful embrace. Duration: 18 seconds; Cooldown: 45 seconds

    Enthrallment: Mesmerizes numerous foes, compelling them to pause and marvel, caught in a moment of vulnerability. Duration: 10 seconds; Cooldown: 60 seconds

    Embrace of Empathy: Fosters a sense of unity among allies, sharing damage taken and healing received. Duration: 20 seconds; Cooldown: 50 seconds

    Siren''s Rebuke: Issues a stern reprimand with supernatural authority, forcing an enemy to abandon their current action. Cooldown: 40 seconds

    Chorus of Disarray: Unleashes a disruptive melody that scrambles the command structure of enemy forces, causing lower-ranked foes to defy orders. Duration: 18 seconds; Cooldown: 40 seconds

    Majesty of Mind: (Passive) Reinforces the Banshee''s mental fortitude, making her commands harder to resist and increasing the efficacy of her manipulative skills.

    Chord of Control: Slows the actions of all enemies, ensnaring them in a tempo set by the Banshee. Duration: 15 seconds; Cooldown: 45 seconds

    Silentium: Imposes silence over a wide area, stifling enemies'' ability to use their skills. Duration: 20 seconds; Cooldown: 60 seconds

    Dominion''s Echo: (Passive) Amplifies the Banshee''s control effects, ensuring her commands take root more deeply.

    Tier 4: Majestic Arias

    *Requires unlocking at least two Tier 3 skills.

    *Requires achieving Fortissimo rank

    Benediction of Command: Empowers the Banshee, allowing her to direct and enhance ally actions with pinpoint precision, leading to devastating coordinated attacks. Duration: 15 seconds; Cooldown: 60 seconds

    Chorus of Coercion: (Passive) Allies executing successful defenses or critical hits gain buffs that amplify their next actions, echoing the power of united effort.

    Unity Anthem: (Passive) Strengthens the connection among allies, increasing the effectiveness of shared buffs and healing spells.

    Binding Verse: Conjures spectral bonds that immobilize enemies, draining their strength with ethereal chains. Duration: 18 seconds; Cooldown: 40 seconds

    Chorus of Champions: Encircles the Banshee with an empowering aura, significantly enhancing her allies'' combat abilities. Duration: 30 seconds; Cooldown: 90 seconds

    March of the Unyielding: Overwrites an enemy''s intentions, forcing them towards peril or away from the fray. Duration: 20 seconds; Cooldown: 60 seconds

    Ode to Binding: Entraps multiple foes in a mesmerizing trance, holding them in place while sapping their will to fight. Duration: 12 seconds; Cooldown: 40 seconds

    Path of the Protector: Enables a targeted ally to mirror the Banshee''s defensive capabilities, sharing her resilience and tenacity. Duration: 18 seconds; Cooldown: 50 seconds

    Tier 5: Harmonic Dominance

    *Requires unlocking at least two Tier 4 skills.

    *Requires achieving Cantabile rank

    Canticle of Command: Grants the Banshee near-total control over a chosen enemy, turning them into a powerful ally for the duration. Duration: 120 seconds; Cooldown: 300 seconds

    Peacebringer: Creates a zone of tranquility, significantly lowering aggression and making foes easy targets for persuasion or escape. Duration: 120 seconds; Cooldown: 240 seconds

    Tier 6: Ultimate Exaltation

    *Requires unlocking at least two Tier 5 skills.

    *Requires achieving Interlude rank

    <still thinking about it...>

 Chapter 47: Release

    The monster continued to attack Aubrey, oblivious to her internal debate. She sidestepped another lash of its chains, ducking low before leaping forward on one leg into a spinning pirouette¡ªjust like one Seraphine pulled off before. Her heel connected against its side in a fierce roundhouse kick, landing hard enough to lift it off the ground and send flying sideways into one wall.

    [Skill: Shove of the Heartbeat''s Force Activated! Cooldown: 8 seconds]

    It crashed heavily into the bricks with a crunch before sliding down onto its knees atop scattered debris where it remained motionless for a couple moments.

    "Get ready, because I have an idea," Aubrey called out as she dashed straight toward it again. "Get those chains off its body and I''ll try something!"

    "What? What sort of plan do you even intend to try?" Levy responded in surprise before complying with her order, throwing a series of ofuda strips against the Unhallowed''s form, pinning it against the wall in place. "I trust you have something planned."

    Aubrey didn''t bother replying. Her mind ran through the available options at her disposal, trying to pick out anything that could possibly work in this situation while evading another chain thrown forth by the chained monstrosity.

    Seraphine leapt into action too, running towards the monster''s left while brandishing her rapier high. Her blade glinted brightly in the dim light as she slashed once through both sets of manacles binding it, severing their hold around its arms just as they attempted grabbing Aubrey by the ankle mid-stride. The broken lengths fell limp at its sides.

    That left only the one coil wrapped around its right arm. A chain shot up to block Seraphine''s second slash, but she managed to knock it aside before striking true. The metal clanked loudly upon impact against stone floor, releasing its grip around its owner''s limb entirely.

    With the creature completely unbound at last, Aubrey lunged towards her target with one hand raised high. Her palm touched down against its chest as she felt her mind slipping inward into itself, reaching toward a place far beyond where even words existed anymore...

    She closed her eyes and focused on the cantata she had used to soothe and influence the emotions of those around her. But this time, she would combine it with two more abilities¡ªEcho of Vitality, the power that boosted stamina and life force, and Chorus of Clarity, the power that removes negative mental effects.

    [Abilities: Mood-Inducing Cantata + Chorus of Clarity + Echo of Vitality Activated!]

    [Successful Combination: Con Brio!]

    The world around her dissolving into a storm of whispers and shadows. The creature''s anguish bled into her, filling her senses with despair and rage. But beneath it all, she felt a different voice calling out to her: pleading, crying, begging to be heard.

    Aubrey responded by projecting a soothing melody along their shared connection. She wove the cantata''s power into a gentle lullaby, carrying with it the promise of calm and release from the prison of its own suffering.

    Her voice rose and fell in gentle waves, wrapping around it like a soft, comforting blanket. She could feel its struggles lessen, its movements slowing to a standstill as the song began to take root in its consciousness.

    But she needed more than just calmness. Aubrey needed to free it.

    The soothing melody intertwined with rejuvenating energy, forming a harmonic resonance that filled the air between them as she belted out the final notes of her impromptu composition.

    [Combination: Requiem of Release Activated! Cooldown: 12 hours]

    It let out a low, keening wail, its arms limp by its sides. Its grotesque features softened, the sallow skin gaining a hint of color. The chains that had bound it so tightly started to dissolve, turning to ash upon the ground as it sank forward onto its knees. Aubrey felt its pain and anger fade away until only the barest thread of its presence remained in her consciousness.

    "You... helped me," came a quiet, feminine voice echoing inside Aubrey''s head. "Thank you."

    Aubrey stared down at the kneeling creature whose body began disintegrating into dust and ash. Even its clothing turned into tatters, falling off its form as it shriveled in size until only a withered skeleton remained, crumbling quickly afterwards.

    [You''ve acquired a large amount of experience]

    [Your rank increased from Allegretto to Vivace]

    [You have 2 unused Talent Points]

    [You have 2 unused Ability Points]

    [You can increase one of your attributes by one grade]

    Seraphine approached cautiously, lowering her guard while eyeing the scene unfold before her with a raised brow.

    Levy joined them a moment after, glancing around for any signs of a remaining threat. "How did you do that?"

    "I just followed my gut and improvised," Aubrey sighed heavily, wiping away at her sweat-covered forehead before turning to the two. "Are we safe now or not?"

    Seraphine took another moment looking over everything again but nodded eventually, sheathing her weapon back on its scabbard. "Yes... the remaining ghouls have been dealt with. How did you know how to free her? I''ve never even heard of such a thing happening before..."

    Aubrey shrugged in response. "Again, just going with my instincts. My songs aren''t just meant for entertainment, ya know! They can also heal. That creature needed to be healed, both mind and spirit, so I gave her what she needed most."

    The two Hunters shared a long look before returning their gazes toward her¡ªboth looking somewhat bewildered.

    Levy chuckled and shook his head in wonderment as he pocketed his last unused ofuda strip inside his coat, muttering under his breath about having never seen anything quite like it before.

    Seraphine, too, cracked a slight smile despite herself, giving Aubrey a curt nod of acknowledgment. "Fair enough then. Let''s continue on before something worse pops out."

    <hr>

    The trio returned to their exploration, leaving the empty hallway behind as they continued along a different route than whence they came earlier. Seraphine and Levy flanked her, walking at an arm''s length apart from one another without exchanging so much as a single word.

    They came upon a heavy wooden door, its iron hinges rusted and worn from age. The nameplate that had adorned its surface at some point in time now lay on the ground before it, its engraving barely decipherable from all the wear and tear. Levy knelt down beside it, running his thumb gently across its surface before reading aloud "Doctor Augustus Schr?der..."

    Seraphine frowned at him. "That name sounds familiar." She paused a moment in thought. "Isn''t he one of the leading researchers here at the Obsidian Tower? What was his specialization again?"

    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    Levy pushed aside his glasses, rubbing at tired eyes before rising back onto his feet. "Schr?der''s focus of expertise laid primarily within the arcane arts of transmutation and transposition. His published research in the field remains some of the most highly cited works within modern scholarship."

    He glanced over his shoulder towards Aubrey while explaining, "Transmutation deals with transforming matter¡ªincluding organic substances¡ªby breaking down its constituent elements into simpler substances, then reconstructing it using new materials."

    Aubrey couldn''t help but stare dumbly back at him, still lost on what he meant.

    Seraphine stepped in as her partner''s eyes glazed over while trying to think of a way to put everything simpler to grasp, "Basically, he studied how to create powerful alchemical mixtures that change someone or something else entirely into whatever else¡ªeven animals¡ªusing different compounds, ingredients, and magical formulas, right?" She turned to Levy who nodded in agreement.

    "Yes, there''s more nuances than that but you''re not necessarily wrong."

    "Ohhh... okay," Aubrey drawled in understanding after digesting that bit of information. That sounded pretty cool, honestly. "So he''s one of those mad scientist types then¡ªgotcha. And the second one? Trans... umm¡ª," She looked towards Seraphine with a raised brow as she tried to recall. "What''s the other thing he worked with? I''m blanking here..."

    "Transposition. Basically, moving people and things around through space. But it''s far more complex than just teleportation since he worked extensively with how the mind factors in during this process, how it interacts differently depending if done via arcane formulae or through natural phenomena like portals or gateways..." He trailed off into another ramble about the exact details, only catching himself when Seraphine gave his elbow a firm nudge. "Sorry. Right, the door."

    Levy stepped inside cautiously first, followed shortly behind by Seraphine whose hand rested upon her sword hilt. They scanned their surroundings briefly while Aubrey entered last, taking note of how much cleaner this office appeared in contrast to the rest of the ward.

    No broken furniture littered the floor, no grisly corpses laying in various states of decay; even most of the dust covering everything remained undisturbed aside from their own footprints upon entering.

    A simple workstation occupied one corner: a heavy desk constructed entirely from mahogany wood. The surface contained numerous scratches and scrapes but remained in surprisingly good condition otherwise, as well as its accompanying chair. Its cushions had faded over time though from what once might have been crimson red to faded orange.

    A few cabinets sat nearby along adjacent walls, made of matching material with handles fashioned out iron bars. A handful of bookshelves stood opposite them on either side of the door, stocked nearly to capacity by texts both large and small. Many spines sported cracked leather bindings with titles printed upon their spines in gold-leaf lettering.

    "Well... seems like we''ve got quite the haul here," Levy said as he began scanning the spines closest him, picking up each item that caught his interest before glancing briefly over its contents.

    "I''m surprised this place hadn''t been looted already, or at the very least, the people who worked here hadn''t taken all these books with them when they abandoned the place." Aubrey voiced out loud while rummaging around through some notes left behind atop a stack near one shelf.

    Seraphine, who had begun poking her head around the office''s nooks and crannies while the other two investigated the study, called back over. "Perhaps they had fled in such a hurry that there wasn''t time to grab them. As for looters... Well, I suppose those Unhallowed we encountered earlier might have kept anybody else at bay."

    The young woman crouched down beside a cabinet''s drawers, pulling out each one in turn to peer inside before moving on to the next one. Upon reaching the bottommost drawer, she stopped in place, eyes widening slightly. "These might hold the answers we seek."

    Aubrey approached her as she lifted up a cache of recording tapes from inside, each labeled with what appeared to be handwritten names on tape labels. They seemed to mostly consist of names¡ªpatient names perhaps? Some other kind of identification too by the looks of it.

    "Is my name in there?"

    Seraphine sifted through the collection of cassettes again, flipping a couple of them over to read the text printed along their sides before letting out a soft exclamation. "Right here." She held up a small tape bearing an orange-colored sticker with the following title written out on it in black ink: "Patient Aubrey Sinclair."

    The sight of her name on the cassette brought with it a sudden uneasiness in Aubrey''s gut.

    This might lead her one step closer in solving her murder... yet at the same time it felt like she might uncover things better left unknowing. But, no, this would surely give her the leads she required.

    "Is there some type of recording device that still works around here, maybe?" Aubrey asked Seraphine who handed it over to her carefully without a word.

    "Let me check," Levy answered after a pause, shoving aside some clutter aside from atop the desk before locating what looked like an old tape recorder. The case sat half-covered by loose parchment papers, but beneath all the mess, it appeared fairly intact. "I believe so¡ªit''s at least in one piece. Its ley line battery seems fine, too. I could use one of my talismans to jump start the mechanism if need be though..."

    He slid open one side of the recorder before peering inside curiously, then motioned to Aubrey to bring the cassette tape over with a motion from one hand.

    Seraphine watched on with interest as Aubrey handed him her tape and sat back a couple paces away to listen.

    After attaching a couple of his talismans atop its surface, Levy flicked another switch and soon the sound of static filled air amidst the silence between them. The recording played itself out, filling the room with muffled voices until a woman spoke clearly, her tone calm and clinical.

    "Experiment 237: Subject Aubrey Sinclair. Age 14. Vocal manipulation and resonance tests continue to show promising results. The subject¡¯s voice has the potential to generate powerful emotional effects. However, she continues to prove unable or unwilling to exert sufficient control. Additional studies will likely prove necessary for the patient to wield her abilities effectively..."

    There was another brief pause¡ªthis one shorter than the previous as someone moved around in their chairs¡ªbefore someone else spoke in turn, their voice male. His words lacked any real cadence as he addressed the woman, though the contempt behind them became evident enough.

    "The child is nothing more than another failed investment, Helena. We should cut our losses and terminate this project."

    Another pause followed immediately afterwards during which Aubrey could feel both Hunter''s attention fall upon her as she clenched her jaw tightly, refusing to meet their gazes. Instead, she glared down at the worn wood floorboards between her boots, trying not think about anything else except making sure she didn''t lash out at anybody.

    The recording continued playing without anyone else commenting. Helena spoke up again eventually.

    "I disagree. The potential here remains untapped; we simply require greater insight into the exact mechanics behind its operation. As I stated earlier, additional testing¡ªcombined with intensive psychological therapy¡ªshould produce significant breakthroughs. Furthermore, if I may speak openly: You lack vision, Augustus. The work done here could revolutionize our entire understanding of arcane harmonics and their relationship to human emotions..."

    Aubrey''s fists clenched hard enough that her knuckles turned white, feeling more and more angry with each second that passed by as she continued listening to these two argue back and forth about whether to kill her or not.

    Someone cleared their throat loudly before continuing their discussion after several seconds, presumably to give time for those present to digest this information. The man resumed talking in clipped tones as if he hadn''t heard what the other said before, but no matter how hard she strained to hear his voice clearly from underneath her rage-filled fog, everything became garbled into indistinct syllables once again until they fell entirely quiet again.

    Finally, the tape abruptly ended without warning as it ran out of footage and the sound of static filled air amidst the silence between them.

    After that, no one spoke for several moments.

    Then Seraphine slowly stood upright with a slight frown etched upon her face¡ªone of pity, possibly, or maybe something else altogether different. She reached over towards where Levy held the player and pressed stop button down while giving him another nudge before speaking softly, "We''ll take as many evidence as we can find and report our findings to my superiors later. It''s almost undeniable that Augustus and others are involved in experimentation that yielded Unhallowed beings. My and Levy''s Order should know about this. It should also help your case."

    "We should probably not stick around too long either," Levy added while packing up the last few books he planned on bringing along for further study later back down into a bag by his foot. "While I didn''t detect any alarm wards when we first entered, we still shouldn''t chance staying much longer lest we risk alerting anybody else who might''ve been keeping watch over the place."

    Aubrey swallowed thickly as the last of the voices faded away leaving only the static buzzing quietly inside her ears. With considerable effort, she forced her muscles relaxed one-by-one until finally managed to let her hands uncurl.

    "Yeah. Let''s get outta this fucking place."

 Chapter 48: Splintered Past

    The trio moved back out into the hall, exiting from where they came originally as they retraced their steps to reach the main entrance. Their steps echoed off into silence around them save for the occasional rustling of fabric and crunching of dried leaves underneath heavy boots.

    Aubrey bit her lip so hard that blood welled out beneath her teeth as she tasted iron on her tongue. She tried focusing instead on anything else except what she just overheard, though her thoughts continually wandered back to that tape playing itself over again inside her mind regardless of how much she fought against them.

    Her anger remained raw, boiling just beneath the surface ready to flare up uncontrollably once more if given the slightest provocation or opportunity¡ªespecially when recalling Helena''s mention of ''intensive psychological therapy'' on top of all this.

    Who did these fuckers think she really was? A dog to train? Someone''s pet? Or worse! What if¡ª

    She shook her head sharply to snap herself out of it. No... No. Best not to go there; best to avoid imagining what might have been done to her if she hadn''t escaped that facility all those years ago. The memories of being locked away inside that padded cell flashed briefly across her eyes as her breath caught in her throat. Those days seemed so far away now... yet somehow felt less than a stone''s throw distant.

    "Are you alright?" Seraphine asked, turning around halfway with a raised brow once they reached the main entrance. Her hand rested firmly upon the hilt of her sword at her side.

    "Yeah. Why wouldn''t I be?" Aubrey said shortly, forcing herself to swallow down the anger again along with all those dark thoughts before continuing on after them, not waiting for either Hunters reply or comment otherwise. Her voice sounded cold even in her own ears when responding.

    As they exited the old asylum, Aubrey took one last look behind, watching as its windows gazed out towards her like empty black eyes that had witnessed countless acts of misery and terror during the fog-shrouded building''s lifetime. It gave off an air of deathly gloom and oppression as though it held onto those memories even now.

    "So, what now?" Levy spoke up once they walked a few steps outside, turning his attention towards Seraphine who seemed contemplative as she glanced back to him, then over towards Aubrey.

    "That... depends entirely upon you," Seraphine answered, watching how Aubrey''s eyes flickered in response.

    Aubrey walked passed them both without stopping, heading further down along the gravel path before pausing midstride. Without turning her gaze back, she spoke again in same cold tone, "This is where we part ways. You can do your investigation, and I''ll handle my business."

    "You realize that you''re still our prisoner? We can''t just let you off like that, right?" Levy pointed out in turn to which Seraphine looked like she wanted say something but kept quiet instead.

    Aubrey slowly turned her head back enough to glare daggers at them, then brought two fingers to her eyes and pointed back towards them, "Try and stop me. Let''s see how that turns out for you," she challenged with such intensity that even made Levy shrink back half a step in uncertainty.

    She continued, "I''ll reach out to you if I uncover something useful. Otherwise, don''t bother me unless you''ve something worth my time."

    Then, without waiting for either Hunter to say any other protests, she spun away from them both and continued onward.

    <hr>

    Aubrey returned to the cathedral to find Cedric, Thaddeus, and Liza lounging within, each doing their own little thing to pass time. Cedric seemed engrossed within some old tome, Thaddeus busied himself tinkering with what appeared to be a small handheld gadget, and Liza readying her violin from the looks of it.

    Thaddeus looked up briefly when he spotted her enter. "Thou hadst returned safely. ''Twas commendable."

    Aubrey nodded in response to that before setting herself down on one of the pews, resting her arms atop the back of it, "Well... I did run into a couple of complications along the way."

    Cedric closed his book, setting it down next to him as he focused on her now. "Your face seems to tell a story."

    Aubrey grimaced. "Yeah..." She proceeded to recount her experience thus far as well as discovering evidence of those involved in her past during her explorations at the asylum.

    As she finished, she noticed Liza shrinking back slightly into herself, hugging the violin against her chest. The woman seemed particularly shaken at her ordeal. Did she go through a similar experience? Was that how she became Unhallowed? Or maybe some other way altogether...

    "That certainly sounds ominous," Cedric stated, stroking his chin as he considered it. "Humans have such a penchant for self-destruction¡ªespecially when fueled by greed. It''s unfortunate to see such a pattern continue even now."

    "Verily," Thaddeus interjected without looking up from whatever gadget he was currently fiddling with inside. "''Tis regretful that such wickedness continues perpetuating throughout the ages. What becomes of thy plans?"

    "Nothing much has changed really." Aubrey sighed heavily and shrugged, leaning forward until her chin rested against her forearms. "I mean, it sucks that whoever those Hunters reported back to know that I''m looking into this shit. They''re probably gonna keep tabs on me now. But fuck those guys anyway if they try giving me grief."

    Cedric and Thaddeus both nodded slowly at this. They didn''t seem terribly worried about this news even though they just learned of them seconds ago, which should be a good sign.

    Liza remained quiet as ever for the most part, though her posture appeared more tense than usual. The shadows writhed around her, making it hard for even Aubrey who sat closest beside her to properly make out her facial features beneath those billowing dark tendrils that clung loosely around her frame like some kind of veil.

    "Relying on those Hunters to dig up information might prove to be troublesome given your position right now," Cedric said after another pause before continuing, "You''re relying on them going after a greater threat than yourself. If push comes to shove and those higher-ranked individuals decide it''s better to eliminate you rather than let you run free..."

    "I''m not trusting any of these Hunters as far as I can throw them. I''ll do things my way, and if it comes to that, I''ll deal with it then," Aubrey replied sharply. When I decide that I need them to help me further my goal¡ªthat goal being murdering these fuckers who had experimented on me¡ªthen I''ll reach out again. But not a second sooner."

    "Fair enough." He chuckled softly, giving her an amused look for a moment. "Though, I''m quite certain your ''my way'' would include a lot more bloodshed and violence in its execution, am I right? You''ve a vengeful soul¡ªa fire burns bright within. It''s admirable... albeit terrifying when directed at others."

    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

    Aubrey snorted lightly to herself. If he knew what went on inside her head during fights, or especially her dream sequences when she imagined herself killing and maiming all those people in gruesome ways...

    "I wouldn''t call myself a vengeful individual," she stated instead before giving another halfhearted shrug. "If someone pisses me off, yeah. I get angry. That''s about where I draw the line though. People who deserve payback will get it regardless, though."

    "I understand," Cedric assured, nodding thoughtfully to himself. Then he leaned closer to rest a reassuring hand overtop one of hers. "We will help wherever and whenever needed. Do not hesitate to ask for assistance."

    The gesture felt nice, comforting even. Not exactly the reaction someone might normally expect upon hearing someone talk about how ready they''d be to commit gruesome murders without so much as batting an eyelash if given the chance. But then again, they were all Unhallowed beings in the end, so it makes sense they have similar thoughts.

    "Thanks." She offered him a grateful smile before continuing, "So, what have you guys been up to while I was gone?"

    Thaddeus looked up once again when asked this question, his expression turning somewhat bashful underneath those glowing red eye-lights as he lifted up the mechanical object he''d been tinkering with since she came back.

    "An artifice of mine creation. An arcane mechanism powered by ley lines. My current design yields modest success yet I strive toward greater potential."

    "What does it do?" she asked.

    "Currently, little. Yet... shouldst I complete it, ''twould prove a boon to all of thee who dwell under this cathedral''s roof. ''Tis intended as a means of detection." He paused for a moment before adding, "I hadst eke altered the Luminal Projector to include a new mode which showeth the record of past events from its locale."

    Aubrey stared back at him blankly, not really getting the whole point of what he explained to her. "Uhh... What''s that supposed to mean?"

    Thaddeus glanced away briefly in thought, then tried again. "''Tis best demonstrated than simply explained."

    He headed down to the basement and returned with the Luminal Projector moments later. Aubrey''s eyes widened slightly in surprise when it activated, producing vivid images of the room they currently sat in¡ªthough slightly fuzzy at the edges¡ªwithin several minutes'' timeframe of the present. A couple of them showed herself entering the nave, heading over towards the pews, and taking a seat beside the others who remained engrossed within their reading or practicing.

    Aubrey watched in silent fascination as it played out in front of her.

    The machine''s projection function lasted for a while longer until it abruptly cut out, leaving the area dark again.

    "''Twas merely an early iteration, and yet still requires much additional work before completion," he said as he turned to put away both objects back into storage somewhere behind altar before rejoining the rest by their seats on the pews.

    "How does it work?" Aubrey asked.

    "It draws upon energy found within ley lines of the locale, so it will not work in areas far removed from them. It projects the past memories embedded within the ley line aura of that specific area, though it remains limited in scope. However, the more intense the emotions involved within such events, the farther in time it can project," Thaddeus explained. "Yet with further fine-tuning... a far more expansive functionality shall manifest itself."

    "That seems... pretty cool, honestly." Aubrey gave him an impressed look along with a nod in approval after digesting his explanations.

    So it was basically a magical security camera that could record the memories associated with a specific location? That definitely seemed like a useful tool.

    To have the ability to see what had happened in a specific place in the past would provide invaluable insight for those trying to piece together events, or figure out how something might''ve transpired.

    Plus, it might also prove helpful in uncovering any hidden secrets left behind by previous inhabitants¡ªnot just the cathedral, but elsewhere too.

    Wait... What about that recording of myself at the asylum? Surely that place was built on top of a ley line, right?

    Could she see into her own past through it? Maybe she could get a glimpse of what Helena and Augustus looked like, if nothing else... It could also give clues about their whereabouts even!

    "Thaddy, keep working on that thing," she told him. "When you''ve got it fine-tuned, I wanna use it at the asylum."

    "I will do so posthaste, milady," Thaddeus replied with a slight bow of head before returning downstairs once again.

    With that matter settled, she glanced towards the other two remaining, noticing Liza still looking rather uncomfortable and withdrawn. If Cedric noticed, he didn''t comment on it; he merely went back to reading his book.

    "Are you alright?" Aubrey asked after a moment.

    Liza flinched slightly before nodding without meeting her eyes. She hugged herself tightly as the shadows around her deepened, making them almost impossible to see through properly anymore.

    Aubrey sighed.

    At times like this, she usually sang a lullaby to calm her down¡ªto soothe away whatever anxiety or depression plagued her. Aubrey approached the woman slowly, reaching forward until one hand gently pressed against Liza''s, causing the latter to finally raise her gaze to meet hers.

    Aubrey offered her a gentle, reassuring smile. "Come on. Let''s head up to my room, alright?" She guided Liza towards the stairs, glancing back at Cedric who watched them walk away but remained silent otherwise.

    Upstairs in her chambers, she encouraged Liza to take a seat on her bed and made sure she remained comfortable while doing so. Aubrey herself sat down beside the Unhallowed violinist and draped an arm around her, holding her close. Then, she began singing softly to her friend.

    She held Liza close against her chest, cradling the other woman while her voice echoed throughout the bedroom, filling its space completely as she sang song after song until Liza relaxed enough into slumber against her embrace. Even after that, she kept going for a while longer, letting the music envelope everything within its warm embrace.

    Eventually though, eventually, even she had to stop at some point as fatigue caught up to her too.

    She glanced down towards where Liza lay curled up against her own body, watching over the other woman''s sleeping form as they lay there together on top of her mattress.

    Liza must have really been affected by her story from the asylum earlier. She must''ve gone through similar experiences herself, and Aubrey''s recollection might''ve brought up those memories.

    I''ll talk with her more about that tomorrow, perhaps.

    She hadn''t really asked Liza about her past since bringing her along. It seemed to have slipped her mind entirely in the meantime. Well, not entirely... she''d just kinda gotten used to the idea that everyone she surrounded herself with here would open up when ready.

    She hadn''t been completely truthful about her history either. Well, she hadn''t lied about it... it''s just... she hasn''t exactly shared all the details of it either. A lot of memories still felt like they had been blocked out from her, or at the very least, buried deep enough that it took a concerted effort to remember them.

    Her eyes glazed over, focusing somewhere far off as her mind wandered.

    She pondered silently to herself for what must''ve been hours upon end. The sky darkened outside her window, stars emerging from their daytime shroud before vanishing back behind a heavy blanket of cloud cover. Soon it began raining, and then pouring.

    A rockstar, singer, and performer¡ªthat''s who she really was before this. She remembered playing concerts all around the world: performing for thousands upon thousands of people. She remembered her band, too, her best friends and companions through it all. They had a good thing going.

    But... all she could remember was those moments, and the music.

    Who she was outside of that, her family¡ªassuming she had any prior¡ªand everything else about her life beyond her music career... it all eluded her grasp no matter how much she strained her brain cells. What did she do when not on tour or making music?

    She knew more about this other identity she possessed now¡ªof this world''s Aubrey Sinclair¡ªthan her own life before awakening into this world.

    Did she ever finish high school? Did she have parents who loved and cared about her growing up? Friends maybe? Were they even still alive? And... if so... what did they think of her now? Do they believe she died when lightning struck the stage at one of her concerts, electrocuting her?

    Who the fuck am I now?

    The questions swam around in her head until finally, tiredness overwhelmed her enough to drift off into an uneasy sleep.

 Chapter 49: Hands Tied

    Aubrey dreamed of fire and brimstone that night. She found herself back at the asylum again, only this time everything around her burned with unnatural blue flames. Everything she passed by within its corridors, people and objects alike, crumbled away into dust.

    She continued walking along its corridors and hallways as if drawn to something within its depths. Her feet carried her onward without conscious thought.

    Eventually, she came upon a familiar scene¡ªthe room where she''d discovered the tape recorder. She entered through its doors once more, except instead of finding an empty room awaiting her, she saw two figures standing in the center of it. They faced each other, both dressed in white coats with stethoscopes draped around their necks. One had short blonde hair tied up into a ponytail, while the other possessed shoulder-length black locks that fell over his forehead.

    They spoke amongst themselves quietly enough that she couldn''t make out their words, but something about their demeanor made her nervous. Neither acknowledged her presence as she approached them slowly until she stood directly beside the pair.

    She looked down at her own hands then: pale and sickly-looking, almost skeletal even with how thin her fingers appeared. She wore the same hospital gown that the chained whisperer wore back in the basement, stained crimson by bloodstains down its front.

    The two researchers remained oblivious to her presence, continuing their conversation as if she wasn''t there.

    "I can''t believe she escaped again," the woman said, sounding exasperated. "How did she even manage that?"

    The man shrugged in response. "We underestimated her tenacity. We shouldn''t have tried breaking her spirit; we should''ve focused on forcing compliance instead. At least then she''d still be here and available for testing."

    "What do we do now? The project is essentially over at this point," she replied with a sigh, running a hand through her hair in frustration.

    "Not necessarily," he answered after a moment''s thought. "We can continue working with what we''ve got. Perhaps try experimenting with other subjects¡ªespecially ones from similar backgrounds. If we can find someone else who possesses those talents... maybe we could use them to re-create the same results? After all, there are plenty of patients here to choose from."

    "Maybe... but it won''t be easy."

    The man nodded in agreement. "No, it won''t. However, there''s still a chance we might succeed, and that''s worth pursuing."

    The woman paused briefly, chewing on her bottom lip before speaking again, "And if we can''t get the results we want? What then?"

    "Then we move onto the next project," he said simply. "We have plenty of funding to continue experimenting regardless. We just need to figure out how to make these subjects more cooperative."

    "I hope we can figure out what went wrong."

    "As do I," he replied grimly.

    They continued talking for several more minutes after that, but Aubrey tuned out their conversation as she glanced around the room again. Everything around her seemed to grow dimmer, losing its color as if fading away into nothingness itself.

    Everything except for herself and the two researchers, who remained in place even as the rest of their surroundings fell apart around them.

    Eventually, even they started disappearing as well.

    She awoke with a start, her heart racing inside her chest as she lay there gasping for breath. It took a moment for her vision to clear enough for her to recognize where she was, but once it did, she relaxed. She found herself back in her bedroom within the cathedral''s attic, bathed in dim moonlight streaming through its windows.

    Liza remained sleeping peacefully beside her on top of the bedcovers, completely undisturbed by her sudden movement.

    Aubrey drew in several deep breaths before letting them out slowly, calming her nerves enough so that she could sit up without feeling dizzy. Her mind raced as she tried recalling everything about that dream.

    That blonde woman''s face stood out clearly in her memory.

    Helena? Yeah, that was definitely Helena.

    The rage that simmered within her core upon seeing that woman¡ªeven if it was merely in a dream¡ªwas palpable enough to feel tangible in the air around her. She longed for nothing more than to grab hold of that bitch''s neck and snap it like a twig between her hands. She''d watch with satisfaction as the life left those eyes of hers.

    "Goddamnit," she growled under her breath.

    She didn''t even realize she''d been clenching her fists tightly enough to make her nails dig into her palms until she felt blood trickling down her fingers. She flexed them open slowly, letting out another slow exhale along with them as she unclenched.

    It''ll happen soon enough. Once I''ve learned everything there is to learn from the Hunters, then... then we''ll see who breaks whom.

    Liza shifted in her sleep beside her, murmuring something unintelligible before rolling onto her other side. The movement drew Aubrey''s attention to her once again.

    Aubrey watched her for several moments before reaching over to gently stroke Liza''s cheek with a thumb. The gesture seemed to comfort the woman, as she settled back into slumber with ease.

    She eventually dozed off again too, falling into an uneasy sleep, though thankfully devoid of any further dreams this time around.

    <hr>

    Levy observed Seraphine through the corners of his eyes, noticing her looking particularly contemplative as they both sat inside the back of a carriage traveling towards The Order of the Viridian Cross. She''d been acting similarly ever since they parted ways with Aubrey at the asylum. If anything, she seemed even more distracted and withdrawn since then.

    He coughed once into a closed fist before addressing her again for at least the tenth time since this afternoon, "Um, Sera? Hello? Anyone home?"

    His words seemed lost upon her for several beats until she finally roused from whatever musings preoccupied her mind and fixed him a quizzical stare, "Hmm?"

    "Is everything alright? I mean, after all that transpired so recently," he ventured carefully.

    The bags beneath her eyes only highlighted how tired she appeared overall, accentuated by the way the corners of her mouth downturned ever so slightly at his question. "I''m Fine. Just... thinking."

    "About what happened at the asylum?"

    Seraphine let out a sigh as she leaned back against her seat and crossed her arms over her chest, giving him another sideways glance. "Yes, among other things."

    Levy shifted uncomfortably under her gaze before pressing on despite feeling like he shouldn''t, "Is this about the aristocrats involved in all this or... perhaps something else entirely different?"

    "Both," she admitted finally, looking away once more to stare out through the window as their carriage rumbled down the street. "Morgan Greaves and Augustus Schr?der both belong to the upper echelons of society. Their power and influence make them untouchable to most¡ªeven to someone like myself. And if these recordings are true, then that means they''ve done far more than just cover up the existence of these experiments, but actually aided in funding it too..."

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    Levy remained silent while letting her voice trail off into silence.

    He had his own suspicions about how far this conspiracy might have stretched among certain groups within Mordenstradt''s nobility and political elite, though hearing them spoken out loud from her made them feel all the more real now. Those names were prominent ones, each wielding considerable clout even among their peers.

    But why dabble in such dark arts? There was a reason why forbidden magic and sciences had been banned long ago, after all. Unhallowed beings preyed upon mortal souls as much as physical bodies, corrupting and tainting everything they touched. If that tape was correct, then these experiments could easily create far more than just mere ghouls.

    The very notion of an army of these creatures let loose upon the land filled him with dread. And it seemed that Seraphine shared those fears too judging by how solemn she appeared now.

    Eventually, the carriage stopped outside the main gates of the Order''s compound, allowing Levy and Seraphine to disembark onto the cobblestone path leading towards its main entrance. A handful of guards stood stationed at their posts along either side, each bearing the emblem of the Viridian Cross upon their breastplates.

    They saluted as the two passed through into the courtyard beyond where several more groups milled about in small clusters talking among themselves or practicing combat drills under the supervision of their officers.

    Levy followed closely behind Seraphine towards where he knew they would find her superiors, nodding politely to those who greeted them on the way over. Most gave friendly waves back but otherwise kept their distance after seeing his robes and hooded attire¡ªhis status as a mage of The Arcane Collegium.

    Although both organizations served the same higher cause, mages were still viewed with some suspicion due to their specialization in the mystic arts, which could easily border upon the line between ''normal'' and ''unholy.''

    Once they arrived at the main keep, Seraphine took the lead again through its winding corridors until finally reaching an ornately carved door inscribed with runes along its frame. Two guards flanked either side who stepped aside immediately upon recognizing her, allowing them access inside.

    Seraphine entered first while motioning for Levy to follow suit behind her, then stopped halfway across the room and knelt down on one knee before a trio of individuals seated at a large table ahead.

    A woman clad entirely in green-colored robes stood up first, greeting them warmly, "Welcome back, Emerald Huntress. Rise and make your report."

    Seraphine rose up from her kneeling position as commanded and bowed her head respectfully before beginning. She recounted their discovery at the asylum along with everything else they learned afterward during their investigation together.

    However, he noticed how she purposefully omitted a few details concerning Aubrey Sinclair¡ªmost notably, about the latter''s affiliation with other Unhallowed beings. Perhaps mentioning that he and Seraphine had been defeated once by them wouldn''t have boded well in front of these leaders either... but still, it was curious.

    Once finished, Seraphine gave another formal salute, fist placed over the heart. "That concludes my report, Lady Gwendolyn."

    The older woman nodded in acknowledgment, clasping her hands behind her back as she paced around the room while considering all she just heard. The other two figures¡ªboth men¡ªremained seated, one dressed similarly to Seraphine in combat gear and mail armor while the other wore finer clothing underneath a heavy fur cloak.

    Levy couldn''t help but notice how their gazes fell upon him periodically during Seraphine''s report, narrowing slightly each time before returning their attention elsewhere again. Perhaps he should have worn something less conspicuous today after all.

    After a few minutes of silence save for Gwendolyn''s footsteps echoing off against stone tiles, she finally spoke up once more, "Thank you for your thorough report, Huntress. Your efforts will not go unrewarded."

    Seraphine bowed low at that praise before straightening herself again. "Thank you, my Lady."

    "If I may," Levy interjected as politely as possible before continuing once the woman nodded for him to continue, "Do we have any plans in pursuing these leads further? The fact that we have evidence of aristocrats involvement here cannot simply go unpunished."

    Gwendolyn pursed her lips slightly but didn''t seem upset by his question so much as it appeared like she was pondering how best to respond.

    Finally, she turned away from them both to gaze out through one window overlooking their compound below. "Both our organizations have no authority to do so¡ªnot without sufficient cause or evidence," she replied solemnly before facing them again, adding with a sigh, "But yes, this situation cannot be allowed to continue unchecked."

    Levy narrowed his eyes at her words. "But we should have sufficient evidence. The recordings, documents, and other materials¡ª"

    "Are not enough," Gwendolyn cut him off sharply with an upraised hand, silencing any further arguments he might''ve voiced.

    She shook her head, sounding apologetic when she spoke again, "We lack the political capital necessary to proceed against those involved. The most we could do is to present these findings before the Royal Court itself¡ªthough that would require some convincing as well."

    The man in the fur cloak cleared his throat loudly before speaking up for the first time since they entered, "I''m afraid the Lady speaks truthfully here, good mage. Despite what some may think, Mordenstradt remains beholden to those in power: both the Crown and nobility. We cannot move against such figures without just cause or reasonable suspicion of their guilt. While these recordings are damning, they only hint at the possibility of their involvement, nothing more."

    Seraphine clenched her jaw but didn''t dare challenge him directly even if her expression clearly conveyed that she disagreed with his statement.

    The other man spoke up next while giving Levy a hard stare. "No doubt The Arcane Collegium holds similar constraints on its ability to act as well."

    Levy met his gaze without flinching, even though he knew the man''s words rang true. He had already submitted his report to his superiors prior to this meeting. Their response¡ªa lack thereof, rather¡ªwas already clear enough of what the stance would be for them.

    "Regardless," Gwendolyn continued after allowing another moment of silence pass between everyone present, "this matter will not go unaddressed. They pose a clear and present threat to all Mordenstradt. I''ll see what strings I can pull behind the scenes, discreetly of course. Perhaps the threat of exposure alone will be enough to deter future actions on their part. If nothing else, it should at least buy us some time to prepare ourselves better for when things escalate further."

    Seraphine seemed satisfied with that answer judging by how her posture relaxed somewhat, though she remained otherwise silent throughout this exchange. Levy, however, felt less than pleased by this development. Still, there wasn''t much else he could do about it either other than accept their decision.

    "For now, I ask that you continue your work together and see if anything else turns up in the meantime," Gwendolyn added after allowing several beats to pass between them.

    The armored man stood up from his seat and turned towards Seraphine, addressing her directly. "About that Unhallowed who calls herself Aubrey Sinclair. How sure are you that she and the late diva are one in the same? Could this not simply be some doppelganger masquerading as her?"

    Seraphine shook her head firmly, glancing briefly at Levy who nodded back in agreement. "No. I''m certain of it. Her story adds up too well with what we found at the asylum. Doppelgangers aren''t known for being capable of sustained impersonations over long periods either."

    The man furrowed his brows slightly before letting out a sigh, "Very well then. But know that her involvement in this has made things more complicated than they already were. If she is truly who she claims to be, then we cannot allow word to spread about her status as an Unhallowed being. The implications alone could do irreparable harm to the city''s stability¡ªto say nothing of the effect it would have on morale. Both our organizations will remain in denial if questioned about her nature."

    "I understand," Seraphine replied with a nod, though Levy didn''t miss how her shoulders stiffened at that declaration.

    "Good. We''ll leave it up to you to ensure that this... girl... remains discreet as well," the man said after glancing briefly towards Gwendolyn who nodded in agreement before motioning for them both to depart.

    "Keep up the good fight, both of you."

    Seraphine offered another salute in response before turning around on her heels to leave without saying anything else, which Levy followed suit behind her after a brief pause of his own. He tried not to show any visible signs of frustration as they walked side-by-side back through the keep''s halls again, but judging from how Seraphine glanced over at him periodically, he knew he must''ve failed miserably at that.

    They exited the building without speaking until they reached their carriage outside again before boarding inside. Levy let out a long sigh as he slumped down into one seat while Seraphine sat across from him, looking similarly displeased as well.

    "So, what now?" Levy broke the silence between them with an exasperated tone, staring out through the window at nothing in particular while trying not to think too much about everything else right now. "What good is evidence if it cannot be used to bring those responsible to justice?"

    Seraphine made no comment, remaining quiet for a time as the carriage lurched forward onto its wheels once more before answering in turn, "I don''t know. But I suppose we just have to keep digging."

    "Yes... I suppose so," Levy replied after a moment of reflection. "But where do we go from here? What more can we even uncover at this point?"

    Seraphine bit her lip, frowning deeply as she looked away from him towards the window. "That remains to be seen. Perhaps Aubrey might have some ideas."

 Chapter 50: Chasing Specters

    The night was quiet as Aubrey and Thaddeus made their way towards the old asylum, its silhouette looming against the starry backdrop above. The moon shone down upon them as they approached, casting eerie shadows along the ground.

    She carefully scanned the premises, looking for any movement or disturbance. It seemed empty and desolate¡ªjust as it had been before. She half expected the area to be locked down or guarded somehow after her last visit, but it appeared untouched.

    "Keep your eyes peeled for anything weird," she whispered to Thaddeus as they walked through the front doors into the main lobby.

    "Understood," he replied in a hushed tone, his mechanical eyes flashing brightly as he activated some sort of night vision mode.

    Aubrey led the way through the decrepit and dusty hallways, with Thaddeus following close behind her. They passed through rooms filled with rotting furniture, peeling wallpaper, and broken glass strewn about everywhere.

    Down the stairway and into the basement, they went. Aubrey hadn''t noticed before, but there were markings carved into the walls and floor of this level¡ªstrange geometric patterns that resembled those of pentagrams or starbursts. They seemed fresh too, unlike the rest of the building''s wear and decay.

    "Thaddy, do you know what these markings are?" she asked him quietly.

    He shook his head slowly. "''Tis unclear at present, though it behooves us to proceed with utmost caution. Mayhap ''tis simply old runes for protection, yet the designs differ from those familiar to me. Regardless, a cursory examination may prove insightful."

    "Alright then, let''s take a closer look." She approached one wall with its pentagram symbol etched upon its surface before reaching out to touch it lightly with one finger. She frowned as she traced over the design, finding no grooves or indentations indicating where these shapes originated from.

    Suddenly, Thaddeus placed a hand on her shoulder and pulled her away from the markings.

    "To look doesn''t mean to touch," he warned sternly. "Until we ascertain what lies within these sigils, it wouldst behoove thee not attempt anything foolish."

    She nodded reluctantly, taking a step back from the wall and giving him a small shrug. "Sorry about that."

    They moved on past several other rooms until reaching their destination¡ªthe study of Dr. Augustus Schr?der, where their investigation had left off before. Aubrey glanced around the room, noticing that nothing appeared out of place since the last time.

    Aside from the mess they''d made digging through his belongings, of course.

    "This is the room," she said as she entered the study. "Do you think this place has enough, uh, ley line juice to power that projector thing?"

    "Verily," Thaddeus answered as his mechanical eyes flickered briefly before settling back down into a dim glow. He turned to face her. "This locale contains a sizable concentration of ambient energy."

    He retrieved the Luminal Projector from the satchel he carried with him and set it down carefully atop the desk before turning it on. Aubrey watched in fascination as the device began to hum quietly as it powered up.

    Thaddeus turned some dials, flipped a couple of switches, and adjusted a few settings until finally pressing a large button on its side. The projector''s crystal lens flickered to life, emitting a soft pulsing light that slowly grew in intensity until it filled the entire room with a faint blue hue.

    Then, out of nowhere, a pair of spectral images appeared in front of them¡ªa man and woman standing side by side.

    The man wore a white lab coat over a shirt and tie, his hair slicked back neatly atop his head, and a pair of spectacles resting upon his nose. The woman was dressed similarly in a similar outfit, though her hair hung loosely about her shoulders, giving her an air of wildness.

    Aubrey''s eyes narrowed as she approached the apparitions, her fingers curling into fists at her sides.

    There was no mistaking it; these two were the same ones she saw in her dream¡ªHelena Voss and Augustus Schr?der.

    As she watched them move and speak, she could almost hear their voices in her ears. But, of course, they weren''t really there. They were just phantoms¡ªshadows of the past imprinted upon this place''s ley lines.

    She couldn''t make out what they said, though; the sound seemed muffled somehow, as if they spoke through a wall or from underwater.

    "What are they saying?" she asked Thaddeus.

    "Auditory reception remains indistinct," he replied with a slight shake of his head. "The Luminal Projector is primarily just that¡ªa projector. For us to actually hear them, we would require further augmentation."

    "Bummer," Aubrey remarked, folding her arms across her chest. She glanced back towards the two figures. They appeared to be in the middle of an argument, gesturing wildly at each other.

    Then, suddenly, Augustus raised his hand and slapped Helena across the face. The woman reeled back in shock, clutching her cheek as tears sprang to her eyes.

    Aubrey smirked grimly at that. "You probably deserved that, bitch. But the next time I see you, you''ll get a hell of a lot worse."

    Thaddeus turned off the Luminal Projector, which abruptly ceased its humming sound as the images faded away into nothingness. He then picked it up and placed it back inside his satchel.

    "Was there anything else of note?" he asked.

    Aubrey pondered for a moment, thinking back to the events of her dream and what she''d seen within it. The room where they conducted the experiment¡ªit must''ve been somewhere else on this level.

    "Come on, let''s keep searching," she said, leading him out of the study.

    They continued down the hallway, passing several more rooms before finally reaching one at its end. A heavy iron door stood before them, its surface covered in strange symbols and runes similar to those found elsewhere throughout the asylum.

    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

    Aubrey stepped forward and tried pushing against it but found herself unable to move it even an inch. She frowned as she leaned all her weight into it with no success.

    Thaddeus placed his hand against the door and applied pressure, his metallic fingers sinking slightly into its surface. Then, with a sudden surge of strength, he pushed hard enough to send it flying open with a loud creak.

    The door swung inward, revealing an empty room beyond.

    The chamber resembled a soundproof room, complete with padded walls and ceiling, as well as a floor covered in soft, foamy material. The place had no windows, and the only exit was the door they just entered through.

    The moment Aubrey stepped in, she felt a strange sense of calm wash over her¡ªas if all her worries and anxieties just melted away. Her knees buckled, and she almost collapsed onto the floor before catching herself at the last second.

    "Aubrey?" Thaddeus called out to her with concern.

    She shook her head, trying to clear it from whatever spell she''d fallen under. She felt oddly lightheaded, as if she''d been drugged or something.

    "I''m okay," she muttered, straightening herself up. "I''ve... definitely been here before."

    She walked further into the room until she reached its center. Again, she had that strange sensation of being both here yet not here¡ªlike part of her soul was separated from her body, watching everything happen from above.

    It was almost like a lucid dream.

    "Turn the projector on," she said to Thaddeus who complied immediately, retrieving it from his satchel once more and setting it down nearby.

    After making a few adjustments, he activated it, and soon enough, a spectral version of herself appeared within the chamber. She looked young¡ªaround 13 or 14 years old¡ªand wore a white hospital gown that hung loosely off her thin frame. Her red hair fell in messy tangles down her back, and her eyes had dark circles beneath them.

    Aubrey''s spectral self sat in the middle of the room, hugging her knees tightly against her chest. She seemed lost in thought, her expression distant and vacant as she stared off into nothingness.

    As the projector continued to run, a pair of individuals entered the room. One of them¡ªHelena Voss¡ªseemed nervous, while the other¡ªAugustus Schr?der¡ªremained calm and collected. They began conversing with each other in low tones, though Aubrey couldn''t make out what they were saying.

    They knelt down in front of her spectral self and began examining her closely, occasionally touching or prodding her in different places. It made her skin crawl to see herself treated like a lab rat, but she forced herself to keep watching regardless.

    As they went about their business, her spectral self suddenly lifted her head, turning towards them with a look of pure hatred in her eyes. Then, before anyone could react, she leaped forward and wrapped her arms around Augustus''s neck, sinking her teeth deep into his flesh.

    He screamed loudly as he struggled against her grip, trying desperately to pull her off him while Helena simply stood by helplessly. After a few seconds, he managed to break free, staggering back until he fell onto the floor.

    Two security guards rushed into the room and tackled her spectral self, holding her down until she finally stopped thrashing around and collapsed unconscious onto the floor. Then they carried her out of the chamber.

    The scene faded away after that, leaving Aubrey alone with Thaddeus once more.

    "That was..." She paused for a moment, trying to collect herself before continuing. "...I wasn''t expecting that."

    "It appears we''ve learned more than intended," Thaddeus remarked. "Do you recall such events?"

    Aubrey closed her eyes and tried hard to focus on the memories of this room. It was difficult, though; everything felt so foggy and distant, like trying to remember something from another lifetime ago. Eventually, however, she managed to dredge up some vague recollections of those experiences within the chamber.

    This was her room. This was where they performed the experiments on her¡ªtrying to figure out what made her different, how she could do the things she did with her voice. She remembered sitting here, alone and afraid, listening to them talk about her as if she wasn''t even human anymore.

    And now, she remembered exactly what happened during those sessions.

    A wave of nausea washed over her, and she doubled over, retching onto the floor in front of her.

    Thaddeus moved quickly to her side, holding her steady until the sickness passed. "Art thou well?"

    She shook her head weakly as tears began streaming down her face. "No," she replied between gasps for air. "I... I think I need some time to myself right now."

    He nodded in understanding before stepping back and giving her some space. "Very well. I shall remain nearby should you require my assistance."

    With that said, he exited the chamber, leaving Aubrey alone with her thoughts and memories.

    <hr>

    It took her a while to regain control over herself again. The visions of the past had shaken her more than expected¡ªmore than they had any right to.

    And yet, the room still felt strangely comforting to her. This place held so many horrible memories for her, but at the same time, it also provided some sort of weird solace to her now. It was hard to explain; it just felt like a safe space somehow, despite everything that happened here.

    She stood up slowly, wiping away the last traces of tears from her eyes as she looked around the room once more. It really did look exactly the same as in her memories¡ªexcept for being in disrepair. Everything seemed old and faded, with dust covering every surface and cobwebs hanging from every corner. The padded walls had begun peeling off in places, and the acoustic ceiling tiles had cracked and fallen apart over time.

    She could even see small patches of mold growing on some parts of the floor.

    "It''s all gone to shit now," she muttered under her breath, shaking her head sadly at the sight. "But maybe that''s fitting somehow..."

    After another minute or two spent gathering herself, she finally left the chamber and made her way back out into the hallway. Thaddeus stood waiting patiently for her by the door.

    "Didst thou achieve a sense of closure?" he asked when she approached him.

    "I don''t know if I''d call it that," she replied honestly. "But I''m better now, at least."

    He nodded solemnly. "Verily. Shall we depart henceforth?"

    "Yeah, let''s get the hell out of here," she agreed.

    The pair headed down the corridor, passing by several more rooms before Thaddeus motioned for them to stop.

    "Harken, I detect movement ahead," he warned. "Eight individuals approach."

    "Hunters?" she asked.

    "Undetermined."

    "Well, we''re about to find out, anyway. Stay out of sight and let me handle this," she instructed him as she continued walking forward alone.

    She unstrapped Hellion''s Cry from her back and transformed it into its axe form, letting its blade drag across the ground behind her as she strode towards the oncoming group.

    It wasn''t long before they rounded a corner ahead and came into view¡ªeight figures dressed in black cloaks with their faces hidden behind ornate gas masks like some sort of twisted plague doctor costumes. They stopped abruptly upon seeing her approach, their bodies tensing up as they reached for various weapons strapped to their belts.

    Sparks flew from Hellion''s Cry as it scraped against the floor, echoing loudly throughout the empty corridor.

    Aubrey halted several meters away from them, tilting her head slightly to one side as she studied the newcomers closely. "Can I help you?"

    One of them stepped forward, a man judging by his size and build, and raised his hand towards her.

    "You''re coming with us." His voice sounded muffled behind his mask.

    She frowned. "And if I refuse?"

    He shook his head slowly from side to side. "That''s not an option."

    The other members of the group moved closer together, tightening their formation around him as they drew out their weapons¡ªswords, daggers, and even a few pistols. They seemed prepared for any outcome, which made her think these guys probably weren''t regular police officers or something similar.

    Aubrey chuckled softly, glancing down at Hellion''s Cry before meeting his gaze again. Her grin widened, bearing her fanged teeth in full view. She rested the axe head on one shoulder. "You sure about that?"

 Chapter 51: Dismantling the Cabal

    Aubrey stepped through the hallway, her footsteps echoing off the concrete walls. The floor and walls were slick with blood, splattered and streaked in a macabre pattern of carnage. Dismembered limbs and mutilated bodies littered the ground around her, making it difficult to walk without slipping and sliding on gore.

    She walked slowly, deliberately, as if savoring each step.

    Her eyes roamed over the gruesome scene, drinking it all in with a sense of almost reverence. She glanced down at herself, noting the spatter of crimson specks on her clothes, as well as the flecks of flesh and bone caught within her nails. The numerous wounds she had received during the fighting had mostly closed, though several still leaked dark liquid in thin streams.

    She felt stronger than ever.

    Her lips curled into a sadistic smile, and she chuckled to herself, a raspy sound that bounced off the walls and echoed back at her.

    She paused at one of the fallen cloaked figures and nudged it with her boot, rolling it over so that it faced upwards. The dead man''s face stared blankly up at the ceiling, his neck torn open and his throat slashed. He lay still and motionless, his hands hanging limply beside him, empty except for a single broken dagger.

    She knelt down beside him, reaching out to gently touch his cold cheek with one hand. She trailed her fingers across his skin, caressing him tenderly as she looked deep into his lifeless eyes. A low growl emanated from deep within her throat as she leaned closer towards his ear.

    "Now that," she breathed softly, "is how you handle trash."

    Standing up again, Aubrey took another moment to take in her handiwork. Her eyes scanned across the corpses strewn throughout the hall until they came to rest on the last figure remaining¡ªanother of the masked men, curled up on the floor, clutching at an injured leg and whimpering in pain.

    He lifted his head, glancing over at her before dropping it back down onto the ground. "P-please... don''t kill me..." he begged.

    Aubrey snickered, taking a few slow steps closer to him. "Depends. Can you tell me something useful?"

    "Anything!" the man pleaded. "Anything you want! Just let me live!"

    She shrugged nonchalantly. "All right then."

    She crouched next to him, resting one arm across her knee as she brought her face close to his. She smelled the fear in his sweat¡ªa mixture of bitter saltiness mingled with copper pennies. "Let''s start simple," she began. "What''s your name?"

    "M-My name is... my n-name...?" he stammered through trembling lips.

    Aubrey nodded. "Sure. That seems like something I should know about someone who''s begging for their life. Don''t you think so?"

    He swallowed hard, his throat bobbing up and down as he tried desperately not to choke on his own terror. "Jake. My name... It''s Jake. Just call me Jake."

    "Okay, Jake. Nice to meet ya." She flashed a wicked grin as her crimson eyes gleamed brightly within the shadowed hallway. "So tell me, Jake. Who sent you? And don''t you dare hold back any details now. We''re both adults here, and I don''t appreciate being lied to."

    He whimpered, clutching at his injured leg tighter. "T-Twilight Cabal, we work for the Twilight Cabal!"

    Her eyebrows shot up slightly.

    Now that was a name she hadn''t heard since those grave robbers mentioned it back when she awakened at the cemetery. She''d been meaning to look into that whole thing more since then but kept getting sidetracked.

    "Oh," she purred, giving him an intrigued look. "Now there''s something useful. Keep going..."

    "It... they..." he sputtered out. "It was just supposed to be reconnaissance... One of the glyphs here got triggered, so someone higher up sent a few of us to check on this place. And we found... um..." he paused and gestured towards the dead bodies scattered about. "...you."

    Aubrey raised an eyebrow, tapping her fingertips lightly against her knee as she watched him. "Go on..."

    His words tumbled forth faster than before. "We were told to bring in anyone snooping around here by force. I... we weren''t expecting..."

    She smiled sweetly as she reached towards him. "You weren''t expecting me to kill all your friends?" She placed a single finger gently under his chin and slowly tilted his head until his eyes met hers. "Well, it certainly won''t be the first time someone underestimated me..."

    She stood up again, wiping some of the gore away from her face with one hand. Her gaze never broke away from his. "So let''s talk specifics. Why does the Twilight Cabal care about this place?"

    He hesitated, biting his lower lip. But when Aubrey leaned close again and used her Mood-Inducing Cantata ability to increase his willingness, he started spilling every detail. And once the dam finally burst, the man couldn''t stop talking.

    "The Luminous Consortium hired us to monitor the area, and when we detected signs of trespass, to investigate," he revealed between rapid breaths. "They told us it was supposed to keep prying eyes away, and if we caught anyone, to either scare them off or take them in for questioning."

    So, the Twilight Cabal have some kind of arrangement with the Luminous Consortium?

    "But I broke into this place not too long ago. Why didn''t I see you assholes back then?"

    "We did come down here once. But we didn''t find anyone. So we set up new wards throughout the halls and left it at that. It wasn''t our job to keep tabs on this whole area. This time, eight of us were stationed close by so we could get here faster should anything happen again."

    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

    This was all starting to make a lot more sense now, at least on his side of things.

    "Where were you planning on taking me if I hadn''t fought back?"

    "To an interrogation chamber in one of our bases nearby. That''s all I know! I''m just a grunt... I swear... Please, please... please don''t kill me..."

    His pleas became increasingly desperate as he began crawling across the floor toward her feet. He clutched desperately at her legs, groveling before her like a beggar pleading for alms.

    She nudged him away with one boot, shaking him loose from her ankles. "Stay put for a bit. I''ll be back. And if I come back and you''ve tried escaping, that will not end well for you."

    She turned away from him and strode back around the corner where Thaddeus hid out of sight the entire time.

    "You heard all that?" she asked him.

    Thaddeus nodded. "Indubitably. It does indeed seem that the aforementioned ''Twilight Cabal'' possesses knowledge on the subject thou seekest. However, ''tis unclear whether such data hath any bearing on thine present objective."

    She shrugged. "Not yet anyway. But, I''d like to have a little chat with someone in charge there and figure out what the deal is. Maybe they could answer some questions I''ve got about some other stuff as well. Do you know anything about them?"

    "Only that they are an unsavory organization devoted entirely unto studying Unhallowed, though they remain sufficiently secretive that naught else has been uncovered regarding their activities or motives."

    He paused for a moment, glancing back around the corner towards Jake still curled up on the ground near a pile of bodies.

    "They are the most wanted criminal group within Mordenstradt, even more so than the Sect of Alkathonyx."

    Sect of whatnow?... Whatever, probably not something I need to know about.

    Aubrey gave another small shrug, tapping her chin in thought.

    What if she allowed herself to get captured? Take her to this interrogation chamber, then break out from there and find some higher-ups to question. That sounded like it had a decent chance of working¡ªassuming there wasn''t anyone there she couldn''t handle, or who could overpower her, or get her trapped in some kind of weird Unhallowed binding cage... or... uhh... lots of things could go wrong... but it also might work?

    "I''m thinking of letting myself get captured by them."

    Thaddeus stared at her blankly, tilting his head ever so slightly to one side. "Forgive me; I confess my apprehension. Pray tell, what wouldst be achieved thereby?"

    "If I''m not making any progress searching for Helena and the Luminous Consortium elsewhere, then it could be a way of forcing their hand a bit. Make them come out of hiding long enough to interrogate me. Besides, I''m getting tired of running around blindly. And since when did this whole ''step into trouble every few minutes'' thing stop working?" She paused, glancing down at her feet for a second before adding: "Okay, don''t answer that."

    But he seemed concerned. "''Tis not without peril, to say the least... Unhallowed you may be, yet that does not render you immortal. Know that aside from Hunters, the Twilight Cabal hath trained its members explicitly unto subduing such creatures as thyself."

    "I handled eight of them just fine. What makes you think they''ll fare any better?"

    "The ones you just fought didn''t seem prepared for an Unhallowed encounter. They had weapons and equipment made for human targets."

    Aubrey frowned. He did have a point there. Those eight had seemed pretty unprepared to deal with someone like her, yet they were still pretty competent fighters¡ªenough so that they''d managed to get a few good hits in through her Harmonic Synesthesia''s warning system.

    She rubbed the still sore spot on her shoulder where one of the men had managed to cut her before she disemboweled him.

    "Well, I need to do something to move things along. Otherwise, I''ll have to keep waiting for our Hunter friends to get their investigation rolling, and that sounds like it''ll take a while."

    Thaddeus nodded slowly. "Verily. Though ''twould not behoove thee to act too swiftly. Thou must ascertain as much information concerning thine adversary as possible afore launching thine endeavor. The fate of an army often lies in the preparation leading up to its engagement."

    "I know that," Aubrey replied with a slight edge of irritation to her tone. "But I still think this could work. It''ll just need some tweaking first. It always seems to come down to luck somehow anyway..."

    "Luck plays little part when fortifying one''s foundation. Nevertheless, if thou decides''t to engage in this endeavor, it may behoove thee to enlist the aid of thy human compatriots to enact a contingency plan."

    Aubrey raised her eyebrows quizzically. "What do you mean?"

    He seemed to gather his thoughts before continuing. "A contingency plan¡ªa strategy to be put into motion in the case of failure."

    "I know what the word means. I''m asking about your suggestion."

    Thaddeus hesitated a moment longer, seemingly searching for the right words. "I propose to enlist the aid of Lady Seraphine and the gentlemanly Hunter named Levy to act as thy rescue force. If thine undertaking should fail, thy allies shall step in to ensure thy safe extraction."

    Aubrey nodded thoughtfully, tapping her chin once more. "That might work... but how would we get in touch with them in time?"

    "I shall seek them out and convey our intentions in full. Though ''twould dependeth heavily upon whether they may be willing to assist in our scheme."

    "Are you sure you''ll be alright? They might be willing to leave me in peace, for now at least, but I''m not so sure they''d treat you the same way."

    Thaddeus waved his hand dismissively. "Have no worries for mine own sake, as long as thine goal canst be accomplished. Those two doth pose little threat to one such as I."

    She gave him an unconvincing frown. "If you say so. I''ve only seen you fight once, after all."

    Thaddeus bowed solemnly from his waist. "Then consider my capabilities well in hand. I assure thou I shall handle things accordingly." He raised his head again and offered her a slight nod. "Forsooth, should thou desire to enact thine ploy in haste, then I encourage thee to do so hence. Time waits not for anyone."

    "Right... wait, hold on. Why can''t you and Ceddy be the ones to rescue me instead?"

    Thaddeus shook his head. "''Twould be imprudent for us to act directly. Thy vendetta is for thee alone. For me and Cedric to interfere further might serve to cloud the matter beyond recognition, and could lead to further complications in thine quest. Moreover, Hunters may prove far more useful in dealing with those of the Twilight Cabal than we wouldst be. They have a far greater familiarity with such matters."

    "Fine, I see your reasoning..." she grumbled grudgingly. It wasn''t what she wanted to do, but it made some sense to bring those two into it. And besides, she had to trust that Thaddy knew best. If he said this was important to do, then there must be some value to it, whether she saw it herself or not.

    "...Okay fine. If you think this whole thing will work out, then let''s do it. Just make sure to give Seraphine and Levy all the details. Otherwise, they won''t know where or when to come help me out."

    Thaddeus seemed satisfied by her words. "Very well, then I bid you to commence thy plan at once."

    Aubrey nodded and turned around the corner, making her way slowly toward Jake, who still lay there clutching at his leg.

    The poor bastard trembled and cowered when he heard her approaching footsteps echoing behind him.

    She stopped just outside of arm''s reach and stared down at him. He shrank back at the sight of her, but when she made no move to approach further, he started to look almost relieved.

    He swallowed hard before daring to ask, "Are... Are you letting me go?"

    Aubrey offered the sweetest smile she could muster under the circumstances. "Sorta. I decided to go ahead and turn myself in. And you''re going to help me do that."

    Jake blinked. "W-what? But you just¡ªyou¡ªwhy would you even¡ª?"

 Chapter 52: Belly of the Beast

    The building looked like it had once been a stately manor, with intricate iron gates surrounding its sprawling lawn and hedges lining its paved driveway. But now, the lawn was overgrown with weeds, and the hedges had turned into tangled bushes that engulfed the iron fences.

    Aubrey''s eyes narrowed as she caught sight of a few sigils etched into the building''s walls, just barely visible beneath the peeling paint and faded brickwork. She couldn''t tell what they were meant to do, but she knew that any enchantments placed on the place couldn''t be good news for her.

    She followed Jake through the gate and up the front steps, keeping her head down and trying to look as docile as possible. The shackles he''d put on her made it difficult to walk, but she managed to keep pace with him.

    The man escorting her had a limp in his gait, though he did his best to hide it as he led her through the door and into the building''s foyer. Inside, she saw several other cloaked figures waiting for them¡ªtwo men and a woman, all dressed in similar black robes. They stared at her intently as she approached.

    "Who is this?" one of them asked Jake, gesturing towards Aubrey.

    "An Unhallowed," he replied, keeping his eyes focused straight ahead. "Found her lurking around the old asylum. She gave herself up."

    "Where are the others? Didn''t you have a team?"

    Jake stiffened slightly, glancing down at his feet before answering. "Dead."

    The three cloaked figures exchanged glances, frowning. "All of them?"

    He nodded grimly. "She killed them."

    Aubrey tried not to grin too widely as she listened to their conversation. The other three seemed surprised by the news, though they didn''t seem particularly upset by it either.

    "That''s unfortunate," one said simply. "But at least we can get some answers out of her."

    As if on cue, four figures approached from behind her. They wore suits of armor made from interlocking metal plates, and carried shields engraved with sigils similar to those etched into the building''s walls. They each held a spear in their right hands, which they pointed directly at Aubrey''s throat.

    Their helmets looked like medieval knight helmets, but with slits for eyes and a flat nose guard that came to a point. The faceplates were painted black, with glowing red eyes staring out from within.

    Something seemed off about the way they moved¡ªnot quite human, and yet not quite mechanical either. They stepped slowly and deliberately, as if each footfall had been choreographed ahead of time.

    "Take her to the interrogation room," said one of the other cloaked figures. "Make sure she''s secured properly before questioning begins."

    The four guards nodded silently in unison and gestured for Aubrey to follow them. She glanced over her shoulder at Jake and winked playfully before letting herself be led away.

    She kept up her charade as they walked through the building''s halls, passing by rooms filled with equipment and shelves stocked with jars containing strange-looking liquids. At one point, she even saw a table covered in bloodied surgical instruments.

    Aubrey did her best to memorize every detail she saw as they walked along, noting which doors were open and which ones closed, where she saw signs of activity, and where there were none. Anything that might prove useful if things went south.

    After heading down the basement level, they eventually reached a set of double doors leading into what appeared to be a makeshift prison cell, with iron bars set into stone walls. One of the guards opened the door for her and shoved her inside, then locked it behind her.

    The cell contained nothing but a single cot and a small wooden chair, both bolted to the floor. There were no windows or vents; the only light came from an oil lamp hanging on the wall outside.

    Runes etched onto the bars glowed softly in the dim lighting. In response, her shackles tightened and squeezed her wrists uncomfortably. The runes seemed to drain away at her strength, causing her knees to buckle as she tried to stand upright again.

    Great... These must be anti-Unhallowed bindings. Damn it, guess these assholes aren''t as unprepared as I thought.

    She took a deep breath and steadied herself against one wall before slowly sinking down to sit on the edge of the cot. She had no idea how long she''d be left alone here, but she figured it wouldn''t hurt to rest while she waited. After all, she would need to save her strength for whatever came next.

    <hr>

    Aubrey paced around the cell impatiently, waiting for someone to show up for her interrogation. Every so often, she tried testing out the bars to see if there might be a weak point somewhere, but no luck.

    Her wrists ached from the shackles'' constant pressure against them, and her knees still felt unsteady after whatever enchantment had drained her strength earlier. The worst part was that she didn''t know how much time had passed since she''d been thrown in here. It could have been hours or days; she''d lost track completely.

    Finally, she heard footsteps coming down the hall towards her cell, accompanied by the faint sound of voices conversing in low tones. She stopped pacing and stood facing the cell door, crossing her arms over her chest and doing her best to look nonchalant.

    Two figures appeared in front of her cell¡ªone of the guards who''d brought her here, along with a man dressed in a black suit and tie. His face was hidden behind a dark mask shaped like a raven''s head, complete with hooked beak and glowing red eyes. He carried a silver rod topped with an ornate spiral design that pulsed with energy.

    The guard unlocked the cell door and opened it, letting the masked man step inside. Aubrey kept her eyes locked onto his, trying not to flinch as he approached.

    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

    The masked man stopped directly in front of her and stared down at her for several long moments without saying anything.

    "Can I help you?" Aubrey asked sarcastically, breaking the silence between them.

    The masked man didn''t respond, but instead reached out towards her with one gloved hand and gently brushed some stray strands of hair away from her face. His fingers trailed lightly along her cheekbone before sliding down her neck and coming to rest against her shoulder.

    "Remarkable," he whispered in a raspy voice, almost too soft for her to hear.

    She could feel the warmth radiating off him through his clothing. He smelled faintly of sandalwood and cedar, like a cologne worn by an older man.

    "What''s so remarkable about me?" she inquired, keeping her tone neutral.

    He continued tracing patterns across her skin, his fingertips moving slowly from her collarbone down to her sternum. "An Unhallowed human, so perfectly preserved... And with such unique traits..."

    Aubrey gritted her teeth together as she felt his touch start to linger on her breast. "Get your fucking hands off me," she hissed between clenched teeth.

    The masked man paused, glancing up at her face before withdrawing his hand. "Forgive me. I''m simply fascinated by your condition."

    "You and everyone else," she muttered under her breath.

    The masked man took a step back, giving her some space again, then began pacing around her in a circle. His gaze never left hers as he moved around her, watching every little twitch or shift of movement she made.

    "To have the privilege of conversing with an Unhallowed... it''s an honor," he said after a while. "Never did we think that such a thing would be possible. To have your unique perspective..."

    "What? Is an Unhallowed that talks instead of roars a novelty for you?"

    He stopped circling her and turned to face her directly once more. "Language is the privilege of sapience, a gift granted to those blessed with consciousness. It separates us from beasts and monsters alike. Yet it seems almost supernatural how you''ve managed to retain yours despite being Unhallowed."

    She frowned. "Yeah, it''s a real blessing... So what happens now?"

    "Well, I suppose we''ll have to see how much information you''re willing to share with us," he replied calmly. "You can either cooperate, or we''ll resort to more... aggressive methods."

    "I came here willingly, didn''t I? Seems like I''m already cooperating enough."

    "Unusually so, yes," he agreed. "Which makes me suspect that you have an ulterior motive. I wonder what that could be?"

    Aubrey smirked slightly. "Maybe I just wanted to see how deep the rabbit hole goes. Maybe I''m curious about what kind of weird shit you''ve got going on here."

    The masked man chuckled softly under his breath. "Indeed... I suspect there''s far more than meets the eye with you. But we''ll worry about that later. For now, tell me¡ªwhat were you doing in that abandoned asylum?"

    How much should she give away here? Lying wouldn''t help much since she had no idea what this guy already knew. But she certainly didn''t want to divulge everything either...

    She paused for several seconds before answering. "I was looking for answers."

    "Answers to what?" he inquired.

    "About who turned me into... this," she said, gesturing at herself with one cuffed arm.

    "I knew it," he whispered, sounding excited now. "I suspected that the Luminous Consortium had been experimenting with forbidden sorceries and alchemical processes. But this proves it! They must''ve found a way to keep an Unhallowed human from turning feral!"

    "You didn''t know that they were doing that? Weren''t they the ones who hired your group to put up the glyphs and wards around the place? You should have run into those ghouls and that chained-up Unhallowed there too. They''re part of their experiments."

    His posture stiffened noticeably, and his voice grew strained as he replied, "So it would seem... I''ll have to look into the matter further. Nonetheless, to think that they''ve managed to achieve such a breakthrough whereas we could not. How very... vexing."

    He tapped the rod against his leg several times, seemingly lost in thought. After a short while though, he turned his attention back towards her.

    "How much of yourself do you still retain? Do you have the urge to feed on others? To kill?"

    She narrowed her eyes at him. "No. I''m in perfect control."

    The masked man gave a brief nod. "Then what is it you''re after exactly?"

    Before she could answer, the guard opened the cell door and entered. "Sir, there''s a situation¡ª"

    "What kind of a ''situation?''"

    "Representatives of the Luminous Consortium have arrived. One of them demands to have a word with us before proceeding."

    The masked man let out a slow sigh, clearly unhappy at being interrupted. Still, he didn''t hesitate before giving his answer. "Tell one of the guards to escort them to my office. I''ll be there momentarily."

    "Yes, sir." The guard nodded respectfully and stepped out of sight, leaving Aubrey alone with the masked man again.

    She watched as he turned back towards her and began moving closer. "No doubt they''re here for you," he stated flatly. "Perhaps they wish to collect their property and ensure that we won''t get a chance to make use of it."

    "Maybe... or maybe they want to make sure I don''t tell you too much," she offered with a small shrug.

    "Either way, I intend to take full advantage of this opportunity," he declared. "If it turns out to be the former rather than latter, then so be it. If it''s the latter, then I shall endeavor to glean as much information as possible before turning over this fascinating specimen to them."

    Aubrey frowned as he reached out and started stroking her cheek again. "You''ve got quite an interesting attitude toward people, don''t you?"

    The masked man chuckled softly once more, letting go of her face. "Perhaps. Or perhaps it''s simply how business works." He turned away and walked towards the doorway. Just before leaving, he glanced over his shoulder and added, "I''ll be back soon."

    He left Aubrey alone in the cell with only her thoughts for company.

    She sat down against a corner of the room, resting her back against the cold stone wall and stretching out her legs. Her hair fell across her face, partially obscuring the widening grin on her lips.

    This had all gone better than expected so far. Hearing that people from the Luminous Consortium were coming to take her meant that this scheme had paid off. Now it was just a matter of sitting tight until they arrived.

    Aubrey stared down at the metal shackles around her wrists and ankles. The runes etched into their surface glowed faintly, causing the metal to feel warm against her skin.

    Her strength still felt sapped away, and her legs still felt unsteady. But what about her powers? Would she still be able to use them?

    She closed her eyes and hummed softly under her breath, concentrating on the music playing in her head.

    Nothing happened at first. She hummed louder, channeling more power into the melody.

    [Ability: Echo of Vitality Activated! Duration: 60 seconds; Cooldown: 240 seconds]

    And after a moment... There! Her limbs felt stronger already. And she felt some energy return to her. It wasn''t nearly enough, but it would have to do for now.

    That answered one question, at least. Her abilities were still available to her. The only downside was the effectiveness and duration were cut in half. Not exactly great, but it could''ve been worse. At least this meant she could still fight back if she needed to. Even at half-power, her abilities were still more than most people could handle.

    Now, she just had to wait until they came for her. And then the real fun could begin...

 Chapter 53: Heart to Heart

    Aubrey sat in the dim light of her cell, the flickering shadows from the oil lamp playing tricks with the runes on the bars. Her mind buzzed like a cheap radio trying to catch a signal, cycling through plans, contingencies, and maybe a few revenge fantasies. The Echo of Vitality had worn off, leaving her feeling as hollow as a bell after the last chime. She leaned back against the cold, stone wall, stretching her legs out and tapping her fingers against her knee.

    If anyone asked, she was bored¡ªbored enough to crack her skull against the wall just to see if it would rattle loose a decent idea.

    Footsteps echoed down the corridor, not the heavy clunk of the armored goons, but the clack of heels on the stone floor. From the recesses of her mind, an old memory bubbled up, the familiar sound stirring feelings of apprehension and annoyance in equal measure.

    They were clipped, precise, and carried the faintest trace of impatience¡ªthe kind of walk that said, I¡¯m too important to be kept waiting. She had heard that walk a hundred times before, usually accompanied by a lecture about focus or some pseudoscientific nonsense about harmonics and the delicate balance of magical frequencies.

    Aubrey''s lips curled into a half-smile, the kind that said she knew the punchline before the joke even left the comedian''s mouth. The cell door clanged open, and there she was¡ªDr. Helena Voss, the grand dame of arcane harmonics, the woman who¡¯d dressed her up in the trappings of genius while tightening the noose around her neck.

    Helena''s eyes were wide, too wide, and there was a flicker of something behind them¡ªshock, fear, maybe just a dash of guilt. Aubrey could smell it like a dead rat under the floorboards.

    "Helena," Aubrey drawled, her voice thick with mockery, "fancy seeing you here. You come all this way just for little ol'' me? I''m flattered."

    Helena¡¯s hand twitched, like she wasn¡¯t sure whether to grab the silver rod she always carried or to run her fingers through her perfectly coiffed hair. "Aubrey¡­ how? You¡¯re supposed to be¡ª"

    "Dead? Yeah, that¡¯s what I heard. Funny thing about death¡ªsometimes it just doesn¡¯t stick." Aubrey¡¯s smile was all teeth, a feral grin that showed just how un-dead she really was. "But I''ve got to hand it to you, Helena, you did a number on me." Aubrey shifted on the cot, feigning a casualness she didn¡¯t feel. ¡°But I¡¯m tougher than I look.¡±

    Helena recovered quickly, snapping back into that clinical detachment she wore like a lab coat. She didn''t respond right away. Instead, she turned her gaze to the two men who had flanked her, each dressed in tailored suits and carrying themselves with the kind of authority that only comes from knowing how to use the pistol tucked into their jacket. They looked like they belonged in a corporate boardroom or a charity gala, not in some run-down basement in a shadowy organization''s headquarters.

    "Leave us," Helena said quietly. The men hesitated for a moment, exchanging a glance, but Helena waved them off with a flick of her wrist. "I¡¯ll handle this."

    They left without a word, their footsteps fading down the hall.

    Aubrey leaned forward on the cot, her eyes never leaving Helena''s. "So... here we are. What happens now?"

    Helena stepped into the cell, closing the door behind her. The door locked with a decisive click. She faced Aubrey again, her expression guarded, her posture rigid.

    Aubrey shifted her weight from one leg to the other, an unconscious movement as she sized up her opponent. The fragmented memories rose up like bile in the back of her throat¡ªthe tests, the probing questions, the constant needling for more, more, more. She could feel it building inside her, an anger that threatened to spill over if she didn¡¯t keep it in check.

    Helena took a step closer, the sharp click of her heels echoing off the stone walls. She looked Aubrey up and down, as if trying to make sense of what she was seeing. "This... this is impossible. I saw your body. You were... gone."

    "Yeah, death and I had a nice chat, but we decided it wasn¡¯t working out," Aubrey said, keeping her tone light. "I mean, I didn¡¯t even get a goodbye kiss from you, Helena. Real classy."

    Helena¡¯s jaw tightened, but she didn¡¯t rise to the bait. Instead, she folded her arms across her chest and narrowed her eyes. "You''re different. There''s something about you..."

    Aubrey arched an eyebrow. "Are you hitting on me, Helena? Because I''m pretty sure I''m not your type."

    "No, not like that." Helena shook her head. "The color of your hair might be the obvious change, but your voice, your speech... it''s changed as well. Your tone, your cadence, even your choice of words. And there''s a... vibrancy about you that wasn''t there before."

    Aubrey held her gaze, a faint smirk playing across her lips. "You say that like it''s a bad thing."

    Helena ignored the barb. She reached out, as if to touch Aubrey''s hair, but stopped short of making contact. "Who are you? Are you really Aubrey Sinclair? Or is this just an Unhallowed wearing her face?"

    Hmm. What proof should she offer here? Something personal? Something only she and Aubrey could know? What was the one thing she always told her after those grueling experiments in the lab, when the nightmares chased her out of sleep?

    The words came easily, like they''d been waiting all along for this moment: "Well, you know what they say about music and soul..."

    Helena stared at Aubrey for a long moment, disbelief etched into every line of her face. But finally, after an excruciating stretch of silence, she spoke, her words little more than a whisper. "How? I watched you die. How is any of this possible?"

    "You know who also watched me die? Julian." She pushed off the cot, stalking toward Helena. The shackles rattled with her sudden movement, but Aubrey barely heard them over the buzzing in her skull.

    Helena backed away, raising her hands as if to ward off a blow.

    "Oh, don''t be like that, Helena," Aubrey crooned, advancing on her. The metal links of the chain connecting her wrists tautened as she drew them up, the runes glimmering in the flickering torchlight. "You knew I wouldn''t hurt you, not here... not now. That''s why you were okay with dismissing your two meat shields. That''s why you were okay with being locked in here with me. You''re not afraid of me, are you, Helena?"

    Helena swallowed hard, but didn''t look away. "It''s that fear that brought your demise originally, Aubrey. Everyone had feared you, feared the power you wielded, feared what you were becoming."

    Aubrey hummed low in the back of her throat, a soft tune that echoed in the stone walls. "And that''s why you did it, isn''t it? That''s why you, Julian, and the other two decided that I was too dangerous to live."

    "For what it''s worth," Helena said, straightening her back, her posture slowly regaining its strength. "My fear was that... you had outgrown my ability to keep you on the level as you grew. You were... special."

    Her gaze dropped to the floor, then darted quickly away again. "Unique," she said softly. "I didn''t want to let you go."

    Aubrey fought to keep her expression neutral, despite the bitter taste coating her tongue. She lowered her shackled fists and stood up straight, taking a step back from Helena. The rage still simmered there, deep in her gut. But unlike with Julian, it burned cold.

    She turned and sat back down on the cot, the chains pooling beside her. "How touching."

    "We could''ve made something beautiful, you know."

    She stared hard at her feet, not willing to trust her temper if she met her eyes. Her voice was flat as she replied, "That''s what people always say about art... right before they fuck it up beyond all recognition."

    Silence stretched between them like spiderwebs, fragile as glass and twice as deadly.

    Finally, Helena spoke again. "How did you come back to life?"

    Aubrey snorted and shook her head, still focused on the stone floor under her feet. "Wouldn''t you like to know?"

    "No magic known to man can accomplish such a thing." The sharpness returned to Helena''s tone as curiosity edged past shock. "You died a human. Elias confirmed it. And yet..."

    Bangs of Aubrey''s hair concealed the crazed grin that crossed her lips.

    Jackpot! A new name. A name of another one of her killers. The name was especially seething to hear.

    Elias... Elias, Elias, Elias, ELIAS, ELIAS, ELIAS, ELIASELIASELIASELIASELIASELIASELIAS¡ª

    The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    "Aubrey?" Helena prompted when silence reigned.

    Aubrey snapped out of her trance, her eyes darting up to Helena. She forced her lips into a smirk, even though everything else in her felt like it was screaming, thrashing against her control.

    Calm down! Breathe! Focus on the plan, focus on staying on task! There''ll be time later for you to get your revenge and let off some steam!

    "Sorry, I just zoned out. That happens a lot these days." Aubrey shrugged nonchalantly. "Don''t worry about it. What did you ask again? I didn''t hear the question."

    A crease formed between Helena''s brows, a furrow of concern or confusion. Or possibly both. "Killing you that night was the only mercy we could grant you. You were on the verge of turning into an Unhallowed that''d bring ruin to the world."

    "Mmm... Yeah," Aubrey grunted, disinterest lacing the words.

    Trying to validate her murder with some lofty justification, huh? Typical Helena. Well, let her do whatever she wants, as long as she helps with my original reason for coming here.

    "We had to make the hard choice. As you were then and are now, you''re a dangerous weapon just waiting to go off at the worst possible time." Helena paused as if to allow that to sink in. "The world is better off without you. And while I''m not one to believe in fate or destiny, it might be best if you remained that way. For the good of us all."

    Aubrey''s head shot up so quick her neck cracked audibly, the sound echoing against the stones. Her eyes flashed, a sudden burst of anger cutting through the boredom of her features. "Oh yeah? What about you? You think the world''s better off without you too?"

    Helena hesitated a beat longer than she should have before responding. "That''s different," she said dismissively. "What I have done and still do, what I know... it has more value to this world."

    Aubrey snorted softly in response, but it came out closer to a snarl. The chain''s links chimed as she flexed her fists against the cuffs. "You really believe that, huh?"

    "I have to," Helena responded in a whisper, sounding as if it pained her to admit that. "It''s what enables me to keep going, keeps me working when all I want is to lie down and die."

    "Well... that makes one of us."

    Aubrey leaned back on the cot, stretching her legs out in front of her and crossing them at the ankles. She couldn''t resist tossing Helena a sidelong smirk. "To be honest, this little reunion of ours isn''t exactly what I''d call ''enabling.''"

    Helena inhaled sharply through her nose and looked away, avoiding Aubrey''s eyes. "What happened to you after that night? Marcus and Elias were supposed to dispose of your body."

    Yes! Another new name... the last of the four. Marcus.

    If only she mentioned their last names as well. That''d make it even easier to find them when the time comes.

    "I don''t know." Aubrey shook her head. "I don''t remember anything after I died."

    "And yet, here you are."

    Aubrey paused, trying to keep her voice neutral as she replied, "Yeah. Here I am."

    There was a long moment of silence between them before Helena spoke again. "I still don''t think you''re the same person, not completely. Even if your memories survived the ordeal, it wouldn''t account for your physical changes or the differences in your mannerisms. Having completely turned into an Unhallowed must have done something to you. Perhaps it''s best if we consider you a new individual, one that''s only partially based on Aubrey Sinclair''s personality and memory."

    That struck a nerve deep inside her, even if she couldn''t explain why.

    This bitch wouldn''t know anyways.

    Of course she wasn''t the Aubrey of this world. She was Aubrey from Earth! The goddamn punk-rock megastar¡ªthe most sought-after vocalist in the damn world¡ªwith millions of fans across the globe! She was unique! She had risen up against all odds¡ªagainst the stench of the industry, the bullshit expectations, and all those people who said she''ll never make it! And she proved all of them wrong, with the raw power of her voice.

    And Helena thought she was some sort of... what? A simulacrum?

    Fuck. That. Noise.

    It just meant there were two versions of herself. Two souls sharing the same body, with different sets of memories. Didn''t they always say how people have alternate personalities or selves locked within their brains? What difference would it make? She just happened to wake up with one that has more vivid memories than the other? Who fucking cares? The important part was she was Aubrey.

    And no one¡ªabsolutely no one¡ªwould take that away from her.

    It took all her control to hold on to herself. The buzzing in her mind had turned into an insistent hum, like cicadas in high summer. Her palms throbbed where her fingernails dug into them.

    She took a slow breath, willing away the worst of her anger. She let out a short, sharp laugh, but there wasn''t any humor in it. "What, like a clone?"

    Helena gave her a sardonic smile in return. "Something of that nature, yes."

    "Well, you can believe what you want." Aubrey tapped her forehead with two fingers. "But I know I''m who I say I am, and all these memories swirling in my noggin'' say the same. The things you did to me... the things others have done to me... the shit I''ve been through. All of that''s real."

    The corner of Helena''s mouth twitched like she tasted something sour. Then she sighed. "I suppose it doesn''t matter right now, does it? The end result will remain the same, whether you are Aubrey Sinclair reborn, or someone entirely different. You cannot be allowed to exist."

    Aubrey''s voice dipped low, cold as ice water. "So you''re going to kill me again?"

    "Personally? No."

    "Then you''re thinking of convincing these Twilight Cabal cultists to get rid of me?"

    Helena''s silence told her all she needed to know.

    "But you know they won''t," Aubrey said with a confidence she didn''t truly feel. "These lunatics will just keep me here like a lab rat for them to dissect and examine. Kinda like what you used to do... or maybe still do. I saw all those ghouls and that chained-up Unhallowed in the asylum. Don''t know if they were patients from before or after my time, though."

    Helena pursed her lips and looked away, turning her gaze on the oil lamp that guttered on the table. The shadows jumped and danced along the wall, giving the illusion that they were swaying and writhing around her.

    Aubrey leaned forward, resting her arms on her knees, the metal chains clinking softly between them. "Honestly, I don''t really care what you and your people intend to do with your experiments," she murmured in an offhand way. "The truth is, we might not be so different, you and me. I understand the drive. It''s like me trying to come up with a new song. I get lost in the creativity of it¡ªthe discovery of possibilities you can bring into existence."

    She raised her gaze until their eyes locked once more. "We just take different paths to reach our goals. I''d say I''m more honest about it though."

    The words cut deep. She could tell by the pained expression on Helena''s face.

    Good. Let this bitch suffer a bit. I wasn''t lying¡ªwe might not be that much different from each other in terms of personality or desires, but she still murdered me. And there''s no turning back the clock for a second chance.

    Even if she did feel some sort of kinship, Helena would have to pay for her sins first and foremost.

    But... maybe not today. Maybe not here. It would all seem very anticlimactic if she ended it now, without a song¡ªwithout a stage.

    Her element of surprise could be wasted if she let Helena escape and tell the other two what happened. They''d either prepare something nasty for her or go into hiding, making tracking them down more of a challenge.

    But maybe that''d make the hunt a lot more satisfying. The thought sent a wicked thrill down her spine. She''d have to wait. Only a little while, at least.

    Her head fell back against the rough wall as she gazed up into the darkness above them. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to calm herself again. She glanced over her shoulder at Helena. "Did you at least like my music?"

    "What?" Helena frowned, taken aback by the abrupt change in topic. "Your music? Of course. Your compositions and voice always produced remarkable results."

    Aubrey rolled her eyes as she faced the front again. "I wasn''t asking about my ''value'' to whatever it is you were using me for." She waved her shackled hands absently in the air. "You asked if I wanted to talk, well, there''s my question. Did you ever truly enjoy it? It''s one of the few things I''ve ever actually liked about myself, so..."

    She trailed off as Helena made a thoughtful noise behind her. Her voice took on that distant, contemplative tone she used during late-night conversations over wine and research papers¡ªusually with Aubrey at her side, listening to orchestral vinyl on some dusty phonograph while trying not to nod off too hard.

    Another memory bubbled up like an unwelcome burp: A bottle of Merlot, half-finished, and Helena, her eyes red-rimmed from lack of sleep or maybe alcohol. Aubrey hadn''t asked which. She had held up a page filled with musical notation, her words slurred with drink and exhaustion, "If we had a full symphony, we''d see an increase of at least forty percent."

    Aubrey snapped the memory shut with the ease of long practice. The room was too quiet without Helena''s answer yet, even with the faint echoes of whatever was happening somewhere deeper within the Twilight Cabal''s compound.

    When the silence stretched too long to be normal, Aubrey finally looked over at her. "Well?"

    Helena had her head bowed, arms wrapped around her ribs like she needed something to hold her together. When she raised her eyes to meet Aubrey''s again, there was the ghost of something genuine there, like they''d shared a piece of themselves without meaning to. But it only lasted for an instant.

    "Yes." Helena''s voice cracked just slightly as she spoke, "I loved hearing you sing. I always will."

    Aubrey huffed, like it didn''t mean anything to her. "Thanks." She jerked her chin towards the door. "Now get out, before I decide you''d make a good chew toy after all."

    A hint of defiance crossed Helena''s features before her posture relaxed. She turned to leave but hesitated, her hand still on the cell door. "Did you already kill Julian?"

    Oh right, that detail. She had forgotten about it in the heat of things. Might as well tell her now, so she could prepare herself for what''s coming next.

    She turned her head to look at Helena over her shoulder, that same unnerving smile from before making its way to her face. "What do you think?"

    "You do realize that Elias won''t hesitate to do what must be done, right?" Helena said, the words almost sounding like they pained her. "Marcus might be able to talk him out of it for the moment, but that won''t last. His fear runs deep."

    Aubrey stood slowly, rolling her neck from one shoulder to the other. A few soft pops eased the tension there. She let out a slow, tired breath. "Well then," she said at last, turning around so that her back was against the cell wall again. "That''s the bed I made myself. Now go on and enjoy whatever time you have left. Because the next time we see each other..."

    She gave Helena a feral grin and spread her arms wide, the cuffs keeping them chained together hanging from her wrists like a set of morbid earrings. "Let''s say you owe me a duet."

 Chapter 54: Dark Sabbat

    Seraphine lay in her four-poster bed, her face hidden beneath the covers. She had always taken pride in how well she slept, even as a child. And while she knew that sleeping with her head covered by a blanket wouldn''t actually make her any better at it, she still loved the comfort that it gave her. This had become something of a nightly routine for her as an adult¡ªto fall asleep with her head under the covers, cocooning her in a warm, secure shell.

    She stirred from her slumber, vaguely aware of something gently tapping against her shoulder. It took a moment for her mind to catch up to what was happening. Then, in a sudden burst of realization, she threw off the covers and shot upright in bed, reaching for the dagger hidden beneath her pillow.

    "Forgiveth the intrusion, Lady Elmswood," an automaton said, standing by her bedside. "I bringeth tidings of urgent import."

    She pointed her dagger at it, nonetheless. It took a moment for her to recall its familiar visage. "You''re one of Aubrey''s cohorts..."

    It bowed low before her. "Thaddeus Vanholt stigmatized, my lady. We hath need of thy assistance."

    "How did you find this place? Did you track me somehow?"

    "Verily. Since your capture of Milady Aubrey, I followedth thy route home."

    "That... isn''t exactly comforting." She grimaced as she slowly lowered her weapon.

    Even against experienced trackers, she''d always thought herself proficient at covering her tracks. Her skill in that regard had come naturally to her, as though it were instinctive. And yet, here stood this machine, having managed to do what none had accomplished before. How unsettling...

    If this had been an attempt to assassinate her, there would have already been a blade across her throat by now. Still, that didn''t make the situation any less nerve-wracking. She glanced at the clock hanging above her fireplace¡ªan hour past midnight. So much for a good night''s sleep...

    So, with a small sigh, she slipped the dagger back under her pillow and stood up from the bed. "Fine. I''ll hear you out."

    She padded barefoot across the wooden floorboards and grabbed a robe from her wardrobe, slipping it over her nightgown before turning back to face the machine. It hadn''t moved from its spot beside her bed. Its glowing blue eyes stared unblinkingly at her as she approached.

    "What''s this about?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

    "It concerns Milady Aubrey," Thaddeus explained. "She hath devised a plan to infiltrate the Twilight Cabal."

    "What?!" Seraphine blurted out in shock.

    Thaddeus quickly explained Aubrey''s strategy of allowing herself to get captured by the cabal to extract information. In response, Seraphine groaned and rubbed her temples with both hands.

    "By The Five, that''s reckless... How did you let her go through with it?"

    "Milady Aubrey art quite forceful when she putteth her mind to something," Thaddeus remarked dryly. "There wasn''t much I could do to persuade her otherwise."

    "Well, at least she''s not completely irresponsible. Where is she now?"

    "Currently detained within a Cabal safehouse," Thaddeus explained. It pulled a paper out of its pocket and handed it over to her. "Here''s the address."

    Seraphine examined the note closely. It appeared legitimate enough. But... "Why did you come to me with this? And how did you know I''d be willing to help?"

    The automaton hesitated slightly before answering. "Thou art renowned amongst Hunters as an individual of honor and integrity, Lady Elmswood. Moreover, thou art more capable than most when it cometh to extricating oneself from perilous situations. Also, I believe Milady Aubrey might like to have thee close by."

    Seraphine raised an eyebrow at that last part. "So... you want me to rescue her? On my own?"

    "I hast come to asketh for thy aid in this endeavor," Thaddeus acknowledged. "Though I wilt also endeavor to assist as much as possible."

    She folded the paper up and tucked it away inside one of her pockets. "Fine. I''ll gather my gear. Wait for me outside."

    "As thou wish," Thaddeus replied, bowing again before turning to leave.

    <hr>

    Strapped to a fixed metal chair with her arms and legs bound, Aubrey looked around the room as the robed figures approached. The bright spotlight above her caused the silhouettes to cast long shadows across the floor, obscuring their faces.

    But she knew who they were¡ªmembers of the Twilight Cabal.

    The man with the raven mask from earlier stepped closer to her, his grey eyes glowing through the mask''s slits. He leaned down, placing a hand on her cheek. "It would seem we''ve caught ourselves quite the specimen."

    "Indeed," said another voice behind him. "The insistence that agent from the Luminous Consortium had to approach us regarding her immediate disposal... I''m curious as to why..."

    "Well, whatever the reason, we shall determine it soon enough." The raven-masked man removed his touch from her cheek before walking off into the shadows.

    "We should get started immediately," one of the others suggested. "Who knows what might happen if they come back to take her?"

    There was murmuring amongst the group before they began to gather around Aubrey.

    One member began chanting softly under his breath, drawing a symbol in the air with his fingertips while a second approached with an empty jar filled with a blue liquid. Once he''d finished chanting, he dipped his pointer finger into it. The liquid instantly turned into a glowing purple ichor.

    He began painting symbols upon her skin, starting on her forehead and working his way down towards her navel, all while mumbling the words of an incantation.

    Meanwhile, the other two took up positions on opposite sides of the chamber, holding an odd assortment of artifacts. One of them held what looked like a golden scepter adorned with various jewels, and the other held a small leather sack that appeared to have some sort of small creature inside it, struggling to escape.

    If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    Despite all this happening right in front of her eyes, Aubrey felt strangely calm about the whole thing. Compared to the ordeals she''d endured in the asylum, these men hardly seemed a threat at all. This almost seemed childish in comparison. So why should she fear?

    The man with the scepter spoke first. "Power of light and dark! Give us strength! Fill this vessel and make our spells true!"

    He took out a small pocket knife and drew it across the palm of his hand, causing blood to trickle out from between his fingers and fall onto the floor.

    Then the second spoke, "Great spirit of the beasts beyond, come forth from this offering!"

    He placed the sack on the floor, opened it up wide enough to expose its contents and slit its neck with a quick slash of his own blade. Out poured not only blood but also the carcass of some kind of small animal¡ªit looked like a rat but wasn''t one she recognized.

    At the same time, the person painting Aubrey''s skin with purple sigils finished the last symbol and stepped back, gesturing toward her with an open hand. His lips moved wordlessly but quickly, keeping pace with each syllable.

    Once everyone else had done their parts, all four turned their gazes in unison toward where Aubrey sat. They stared intently as if waiting for something to happen. And for a moment, she worried it actually would.

    However, after a few minutes passed by without incident, one of the men sighed and shook his head in disappointment. Another started fidgeting uncomfortably. The third simply looked confused. But the one closest to her¡ªthe leader with the mask of the raven head¡ªcontinued staring intently at her.

    When he spoke again, he sounded irritated. "Something''s not right here."

    "No shit," one of them answered back. "What went wrong?"

    "I don''t know yet," the leader said slowly, his gaze locked onto Aubrey''s. "If she was human, that spell would''ve turned her into a Cambion. If she was already an Unhallowed, the other two rituals should''ve either revealed her true form or caused the corpse in the sack to animate. But neither happened..."

    The third finally piped up. "Should I repeat the ritual?"

    "I don''t think that will help," the masked leader replied. "Whatever it is about her seems unique enough that we shouldn''t force the issue. In all my years, I''ve never encountered anything quite like this."

    Aubrey couldn''t help but laugh despite the situation. "Wow, guess I''m special, huh? Not every day I get treated like this... It''s kinda exciting, y''know?"

    That comment earned a few chuckles from the men standing around her. Even the one nearest to the leader¡ªthe one who seemed more annoyed with everything than the others¡ªcouldn''t help snorting under his breath at Aubrey''s remark.

    "Well, if nothing else, this little exercise has proven informative," the masked man said. He stepped closer toward Aubrey and reached for her hair, lifting it up to expose her neck. "Yes. You most certainly are special. Now... what to do with you?"

    His overfamiliar touch was beginning to grate on her, but she forced herself to remain calm.

    She counted a dozen robed people¡ªincluding the four in her immediate vicinity¡ªstanding in a semicircle around her chair. A single armored guard stood by the only door she could see in the room, which she assumed led out.

    Maybe it was time to make a break for it...

    She made eye contact with the leader of the cabal, staring deep into his dark pupils. "Let me go and you won''t regret it. I can assure you."

    His lip curled into a sneer as he laughed bitterly, releasing his grip on her hair. "Oh, really? That''s quite bold of you to say when you''re bound to that chair like an animal."

    Aubrey ignored him. She began humming quietly under her breath as she concentrated on one of her powers.

    [Ability: Enthrallment Activated! Duration: 30 seconds; Cooldown: 90 seconds]

    Her voice rang out, belting an enchanting melody into the room. The four robed individuals nearby reacted first, staring at her with rapt attention as their bodies visibly relaxed. Their jaws slackened, and their eyes became vacant, glassy orbs. Soon after, the rest of the cabal members started swaying slightly in rhythm with her tune.

    "What...?" The leader of the cabal hissed, staggering away. "How...?"

    Aubrey kept singing, building the power of her ability even further. Her voice carried across the room, filling everyone present with a sense of euphoria. As she increased the volume, their expressions softened. One by one, the members of the cabal began to smile dreamily at her.

    "Wake up, you fools!" the masked leader yelled. "Don''t let her influence you!"

    [Ability: Chorus of Disarray Activated! Duration: 20 seconds; Cooldown: 60 seconds]

    At this command, the song changed to something far darker and more chaotic. She launched into a frantic melody, her pitch rising sharply with every beat. As she built towards the crescendo, the tempo became frenzied.

    The effect on her audience intensified along with the cacophony. They started dancing wildly about the room, bumping into each other and throwing themselves across furniture. Several fell to the floor and thrashed in pain. Two even vomited violently onto the ground. All the while, Aubrey sang louder than ever before, losing herself in the performance.

    [Ability: Dissonant Chord Activated! Duration: 18 seconds; Cooldown: 30 seconds]

    [Ability: Veil of Despair Activated! Duration: 24 seconds; Cooldown: 60 seconds]

    Soon, the entire room descended into chaos. Members of the cabal attacked one another indiscriminately, their screams rising above the noise. Fists flew, blades flashed, and blood spilled everywhere. Even the leader fought desperately against the others, attempting to defend himself from their assault.

    Aubrey continued singing, reveling in the pandemonium. Her powers may have been diminished by the shackles, but it still proved enough to cause utter turmoil. She cycled through each ability once again to ensure she kept her hold on them.

    Through the confusion, she noticed someone trying to creep behind her and place their hands on her mouth to silence her, but the necrotic aura from her Veil of Despair stopped them dead in their tracks. She watched them collapse, gasping in agony for a few more moments before dying.

    When things began to slow down, most of the members of the Cabal lay dead, and the masked leader remained the only conscious one in the room, besides Aubrey. His mask had been knocked off during the fighting. She now saw him clearly as a middle-aged man with pale skin and short gray hair. Blood poured down from cuts and bruises covering his face and limbs. Yet, he still stood there staring at her.

    "What... What in the name of The Five... Who... Are you... a demon?" he rasped hoarsely between ragged breaths.

    She continued to sing to him, weaving a more subtle form of compulsion into her lyrics, compelling him to walk closer to her.

    After a moment of hesitation, he complied. He dragged himself towards her as if possessed, stumbling across the pile of corpses scattered across the floor. Eventually, he staggered into arm''s reach and collapsed at her feet, laying prostrate before her.

    With a grin, Aubrey stopped singing at last. "Sorry, buddy, but I''m no demon. Just a gal with some abilities... One that you assholes should''ve left alone."

    [Ability: Veil of Despair Activated! Duration: 24 seconds; Cooldown: 60 seconds]

    The leader cried out in anguish, convulsing violently as the dark energy of Aubrey''s ability consumed him. She watched as his skin began to crack and flake away, peeling off in bloody strips to reveal the sinew beneath. His eyes rolled back in his head, and his jaw dropped open, revealing a decaying tongue lolling out of his mouth.

    But as she waited for him to breathe his last pathetic breath, something strange began to occur. The body twitched erratically, and the veins on his neck and face began to throb and swell. Slowly, the skin on his arms and legs burst, revealing clusters of pulsing green growths. He began to grow larger, his torso expanding and stretching until it tore open to reveal a mess of writhing tentacles and gnashing teeth.

    Aubrey''s eyes widened in surprise.

    What the... it''s happening again. But how...?!

    In the span of a few heartbeats, the twisted abomination that had once been a simple cabal leader rose to its full height, towering over her. Rivulets of melted flesh oozed from its face and chest, dripping onto the floor below. Its eyes glowed red, and its jaw unhinged, releasing a horrific screech that reverberated throughout the room.

    She was still bound to the chair.

 Chapter 55: Rescue

    Bang!

    One of the hinges gave way, followed shortly afterward by a loud clang as the metal door fell to the floor. Seraphine stepped over it, sword drawn, and swept her eyes across the hallway before moving cautiously forward.

    Thaddeus followed behind her, his head swiveling to inspect every corner and alcove they passed. "The guards are likely tending to Aubrey," the automaton whispered as it trailed after her.

    Seraphine nodded without slowing, continuing deeper into the compound. The architecture was similar to many private estates that belonged to prominent families or business owners within Mordenstradt. At least those wealthy enough to afford it. Tastefully decorated walls, high vaulted ceilings, ornate wood paneling, marble flooring, and expensive paintings and sculptures lining the hallways.

    She paused at the top of the stairs leading down into the basement, raising a hand to indicate a stop. From her position, she could discern the sound of movement from downstairs. But the voices had gone quiet since she''d blasted down the entranceway.

    After taking several seconds to assess the situation, Seraphine motioned for the automaton to follow. The pair descended into the darkness of the cellar, stepping over broken wood and metal debris strewn across the landing at the bottom. A faint rusty scent lingered in the air, mingling with dust kicked up by their passage. Seraphine wrinkled her nose slightly at the foul odor. She adjusted her grip on the hilt of her blade. "Something must have happened..."

    An ominous, low moan emanated from farther ahead, sending goosebumps along her arms.

    Seraphine drew in a sharp breath through her teeth, forcing herself to continue moving. Her hand brushed against the cool stone walls beside her, tracing their smooth surface as she proceeded into the gloom.

    The sounds grew louder with each step, becoming clearer: low grunts, shuffling footsteps, heavy breathing. Something large and bulky scuffed against the concrete flooring, scraping loudly.

    She emerged into a spacious room, lit sparsely by flickering torches hanging from iron brackets set into the roughhewn walls. Corpses of robed figures lay scattered everywhere, forming piles of mutilated bodies and severed limbs. Blood and gore spattered across the flagstone floor, pooling beneath several of the remains.

    Her eyes landed immediately on Aubrey sitting in the center of the chamber, strapped to a metal chair. She seemed unharmed. A monstrous beast, covered in fleshy tendrils and deformed growths, loomed over her, poised for attack. Its skinless, featureless face turned toward the new arrivals, a sliver of drool glistening on its lower jaw.

    Before Seraphine could react, Thaddeus darted forward, skidding to a halt directly between Aubrey and the monster. "Milady Aubrey! I am glad thou art unharmed..."

    Aubrey struggled against her restraints. "Hey, Thaddy... Glad you came to my rescue...!"

    The eldritch horror let out an ear-splitting cry, and its body lurched toward them. It brought its clawed hands crashing down at the automaton''s head.

    "Look out!" Seraphine cried out, dashing forward.

    Thaddeus leaped nimbly to the side, narrowly dodging the strike. The beast swung wildly again, its attacks missing once more. Thaddeus hopped about the floor, keeping just ahead of its swipes and swings.

    Seraphine circled around the creature to try and flank it. It paid her little mind, focused solely on the automaton. She studied its movements closely.

    This thing had been human before. Some dark magic must have transformed it into this... abomination. Was it a byproduct of whatever rituals they attempted here? Or had the cabal leader chosen to use some forbidden art that caused this?

    Whatever the answer, she would find out later. For now, it needed to die.

    The creature lunged again, lunging with its arms spread wide. Thaddeus jumped high in the air and bounced off its head, twisting away from a shower of sharp spikes that sprouted from the beast''s shoulders. The automaton landed gracefully upon the ground beside Aubrey''s chair.

    Seraphine seized her opening. She lunged with her sword, aiming directly at the monster''s chest. Her blow pierced into its body, passing cleanly through without resistance. A viscous black ichor gushed from the wound. But instead of falling, the creature swung around to face her, roaring in anger.

    It swung one clawed hand in a wild arc, catching her forearm. Serrated barbs on its claws bit deep into her flesh. She gasped, her free arm falling numbly to her side.

    The monster pulled back for another swing.

    Thaddeus stepped in. It shot forward, wrapping its mechanical arms around the monstrosity''s torso. With a powerful jerk, it hurled it across the room to crash into the far wall.

    As the beast staggered upright, Seraphine charged, striking it again and again, her blade sinking deep into its flesh with each stroke. Thick ichor splattered from the wounds, staining the hem of her coat black.

    A maw sprouted from one of the creature''s appendages, latching onto her shoulder and piercing through layers of fabric to bite into her flesh. Pain flared as blood dripped down the sleeve of her jacket.

    The monster threw her off.

    She slammed into the floor hard, dropping her weapon as the wind left her lungs in a whoosh. When she looked up, the creature stood above her. Drool poured from its mouth. Saliva dribbled onto her cheeks as it bent down, bringing its face close to hers.

    "Damn...!" Seraphine muttered through gritted teeth.

    The eldritch horror loomed above her, a writhing mass of twisted limbs and gnashing teeth. Her breath hitched as she struggled to move, the weight of the beast pressing down on her chest like a boulder. She thrashed beneath it, trying to break free, but its sheer mass pinned her in place.

    Panic clawed at the edges of her mind, but she shoved it down. No time for fear. Not now.

    Then, a flash of metal.

    The creature¡¯s head jerked to the side, knocked off course by a blow that rang out like a bell in the gloom. Seraphine blinked, disoriented, and saw Thaddeus, his metallic arms locking around the monster¡¯s neck. With a grinding whirr, the automaton forced the beast back, prying its maw away from her and slamming it into the wall. The stones cracked under the impact.

    Seraphine scrambled to her feet and retrieved her sword.

    Thaddeus returned to Aubrey''s side and began methodically prying the metal restraints from her wrists and ankles. Aubrey sprang free.

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    "About time," she muttered, rubbing her bruised skin as she met Seraphine¡¯s eyes with a fleeting smirk. "Hey, thanks for coming... You look like shit, by the way... "

    Seraphine winced, flexing her injured arm. The numbness persisted despite her efforts to work the nerves back into full motion. Still, she managed to force a smile. "And you''re as beautiful and rude as always."

    Aubrey let out a mock gasp, feigning indignation as she slapped her hands onto her hips. "Aww, thank you! That means a lot. I never knew you felt this way about me!"

    Thaddeus interrupted them, tapping Aubrey on the shoulder. "If you are finished with this pleasant conversation, milady, perhaps we should finish this foul thing before it rises again."

    A growl drew their attention, and they looked to see the corrupted abomination struggling to rise to its feet. The unnatural flesh stretched and strained against the bones as it pushed itself upright and glared at the trio with baleful red eyes. "RRRUUGGGHH!!!"

    The monster''s roar filled the chamber. The lights flickered briefly, casting shadows across the walls.

    "Thaddy, did you bring it?" Aubrey asked, holding her hand out expectantly.

    Thaddeus unwrapped the cloth around what Seraphine assumed was Aubrey''s weapon, revealing a gleaming electric guitar painted midnight blue, embellished with intricate gold filigree. The base of the neck looked unusually thick, with a dull yellow glow radiating from the hollow cavity. It looked like it belonged more in an art museum than in a battle against an eldritch horror.

    Aubrey snatched the instrument, shifting it to one hand before flipping the switch at the neck. Blue sparks crackled down the length of the guitar as she drew in a deep breath.

    "You''re not... actually going to fight with that, are you?" Seraphine managed, her voice coming out more incredulous than she¡¯d intended.

    Aubrey shot her a quick grin. "Just watch."

    Seraphine narrowed her eyes. What exactly was Aubrey planning to do with that thing?

    Suddenly, the body of the instrument twisted, reshaping itself, sharp edges blooming from its once smooth sides.

    She blinked in surprise. A... battle-axe?! How does that even...?

    "What in the name of¡ª"

    Aubrey cut her off by swinging the axe around to point towards the creature looming across the room. "C''mon, big guy. Showtime."

    The monster charged at her.

    Aubrey swept her hand over the strings, sending a discordant blast of sound rippling towards the beast. It collided with a wave of force that echoed across the chamber, knocking it back a pace. The sound of scraping metal filled the air as the tip of the axe scratched lightly against the flagstones.

    Aubrey crouched low, sliding one foot forward as she braced herself for the next attack. She moved with practiced ease, like she''d done it a thousand times before. "Are we doing this or what? C''mon, ugly!"

    The creature bellowed, pounding its fists against the floor as it prepared to charge again.

    It threw itself at her, a mass of sinew, teeth, and claws. Aubrey didn¡¯t flinch. She stepped lightly to the side, her fingers strumming a discordant note that seemed to hang in the air for just a moment before the sound itself slashed across the beast¡¯s side. The effect was immediate¡ªflesh split open, black ichor spraying out in thick rivulets, hissing as it hit the stone floor.

    Aubrey didn''t miss a beat. Her fingers danced across the strings of the guitar, drawing a series of complex notes in a cacophonous symphony that vibrated along the air, surrounding the beast with invisible knives made out of pure sound waves.

    The creature lunged again, its bloated limbs crashing against the walls as it tried to regain footing, but Aubrey was already moving. She dodged, slipping into the flow of the fight as though it were some violent dance.

    Seraphine blinked, momentarily stunned by the sheer precision in Aubrey¡¯s movements. It wasn¡¯t the brutality of a trained warrior, nor the methodical approach of a Hunter. This was something far more fluid¡ªfar more instinctive. Aubrey ducked under a sweeping tendril, then pivoted sharply away from a strike aimed at her midsection.

    Every time the beast lashed out, Aubrey was already two steps ahead, gliding out of its reach with a rhythm Seraphine couldn¡¯t hear but could feel. And somehow, she seemed to know what steps came next. It was as though the world itself had fallen into a new tempo, one that only Aubrey could command.

    Aubrey struck a heavier chord, the sound booming through the chamber. The ground beneath the creature cracked, fissures spider-webbing outward. The monster staggered, its massive frame swaying unsteadily as its footing slipped and crumbled beneath its feet. It reached out, grasping wildly at the air, claws scrabbling uselessly against empty nothingness.

    With a snarl, she swung the guitar in a wide arc, a glowing trail following in its wake. The blade cleaved through the monster''s side, carving a jagged line straight down to its core. The monster let out one final wail before collapsing, dissolving into a mound of viscera.

    The battle axe suddenly twisted around until it resembled the guitar, and Aubrey leaned into it, plucking a long, languid riff.

    Thaddeus clapped enthusiastically and Seraphine took a hesitant step closer to Aubrey.

    Her mind raced, trying to piece together how Aubrey was doing it. Was it magic? Something else? Part of her Unhallowed nature? The questions multiplied faster than she could sort them through.

    Seraphine had seen Aubrey fight before, but this was the first time she was able to observe her fully. There had been brief, stolen glances of Aubrey dancing in the throes of her otherworldly powers when she''d fought alongside her and Levy, but this encounter, this display, it had taken her breath away in a wholly unexpected way.

    She sheathed her blade, pushing aside the myriad of thoughts tumbling through her head. Perhaps she could ask her about it later, though she doubted it. Instead, Seraphine forced a grin and crossed her arms. "I take it your plan to let yourself get captured yielded some worthwhile information."

    Aubrey''s lips curved into an impish smile. She turned and strutted back towards her, swinging her hips exaggeratedly with each step. Seraphine gulped, her mind wandering places it most definitely shouldn''t. Aubrey stopped a foot shy, her crimson eyes locked on the Hunter''s green ones. They glowed faintly in the dim light.

    "Of course. Nothing like a good ol'' info-dump, right? All worth it in the end. I got to meet one of the people responsible for killing me, after all..." She rested the guitar over her shoulder, drumming her fingernails against the fretboard. "You should be able to uncover evidence of the Luminous Consortium and the Twilight Cabal in cahoots with one another now. A lead at the very least, right?"

    Seraphine nodded. "That certainly puts us in a better position. Though I hope you''ll enlighten me on the details later."

    "Sure, sure," Aubrey replied with a casual shrug. "Anyways, if you''re gonna have your Hunter guild buddies come and clean up the mess, I''ll be dipping out."

    "My guild doesn''t deal with criminal matters. Only supernatural threats. But I''ve alerted Mordenstradt''s constabulary. They should show up and get this place cleaned up."

    Aubrey turned her gaze toward Thaddeus and motioned for the automaton to follow as she strode towards the exit. "Let''s get going, Thaddy."

    "Verily, Milady."

    Seraphine called out to her before she disappeared.

    "Oh, and Aubrey..."

    "Hm?"

    "What''ll you do once you''ve exacted your vengeance? If... you succeed," Seraphine ventured, curiosity coloring her tone. "What then?"

    Aubrey cast her a sidelong glance, tilting her head to the side. The light caught her eyelashes in a way that accentuated their length, framing her crimson irises like jewels against her pale skin. She raised her brows and shrugged.

    "Who knows? I guess I hadn''t thought that far. I suppose... I''ll cross that bridge when it comes to it, yeah?"

    "Fair enough, I suppose," Seraphine remarked, feeling a flicker of disappointment in spite of herself.

    "Well then... See you around," Aubrey said as she exited the chamber. Thaddeus gave her a small bow before following behind.

    Seraphine sighed softly, her eyes fixed upon the space where Aubrey and Thaddeus had vanished.

    As the sounds of the pair''s footsteps faded, Seraphine leaned against a wall and slid to the ground. She stared blankly at the bloody carnage littering the chamber.

    The conspiracy around Aubrey''s existence... The question of whether it warrants a threat to the city... Those mysteries still lay ahead. And while Seraphine held on to her faith and ideals as a Huntress, Aubrey remained an enigma¡ªone that stirred something strange within her.

    She let out a weary groan and closed her eyes. Her injured arm still ached, but at least the pain in her shoulder seemed to abate. Small blessings...

    But her night wasn''t over. When the constabulary arrived, she''d have to answer questions about what happened. An investigation would ensue. Paperwork to fill out. Not looking forward to that at all.

 Chapter 56: Crossroads

    Aubrey let the moment linger after she belted the final verse, holding onto that last note until it faded into the roaring cheers of the crowd. The makeshift plaza teemed with revelers, the sound of stomping feet and hooting voices echoing off the narrow brick lanes.

    Her hands drifted lightly over the guitar strings, the last strains of music rippling through the air in fading echoes. She drank in their praise, allowing it to wash over her in a tidal wave of adulation.

    She dipped into a bow, letting the applause continue for several seconds longer until it petered out naturally.

    <You''ve acquired a moderate amount of experience>

    A nice bonus, but the nourishment she received from feeding off their emotions during the concert was much more valuable. It left her energized and revitalized. With the size of the crowd that turned out, she probably didn''t need to feed again for another few weeks.

    She nodded to the others, a silent signal to wrap things up.

    They took their bows and left the stage, vanishing into the shadows as the crowd slowly dispersed.

    As they made their way through the twisting alleyways towards the cathedral, the buzz from the crowd wore off, leaving her alone with her thoughts. The show went well¡ªeven better than she expected. Everyone sounded great, and the crowd responded positively to their experimental songs.

    "Milady Aubrey," Thaddeus spoke up suddenly, "May I inquire a question regarding thy performance?"

    She glanced sideways at the automaton as they walked, wondering what he meant.

    "Shoot," she answered simply.

    The gears inside Thaddeus''s head whirred audibly as he processed her reply. After a few seconds, the Uhallowed automaton responded. "Why art thou so enamored with these heavy, dark tunes thou write? Thou hath created such beautiful melodies previously, yet... this latest batch seems somewhat more... somber in nature."

    The question surprised her.

    Thaddeus''s perception always impressed her. Not many could read into the emotions she put into her music, and he seemed to pick up on it every time.

    She pondered her response for a moment, staring into the shadows of the night as they passed. Her crimson eyes lit the gloom ahead of them with faint light, guiding their path deeper into the darkened alleys of the Hollows.

    Finally, she broke her silence.

    "I''ve just been in the mood for a dirge recently... you know? To mourn the old days."

    "Art thou not satisfied with life here, in Mordenstradt?"

    "It''s not that," Aubrey protested, shaking her head slightly. She ran a hand through her hair. "Life here has its own charm, and the freedom is appreciated, too. I''ve just been reminiscing after more of my memories returned to me. Thought the music might reflect that."

    Thaddeus inclined its head. "Memories of thy time with Helena Voss, within that asylum."

    Aubrey paused mid-step, a sour expression flashing across her face. "Yeah... those..."

    Their short reunion played in her head once more, like a scratchy record stuck repeating on its worst track. She could have killed her, then and there. She had the chance.

    Except she didn''t.

    Aubrey resisted, opting instead to let her leave and play the long con. Unlike with Julian, whose death she relished, she couldn''t muster the same hatred for Helena. She knew why. Deep down, she understood.

    As much as Aubrey hated her, that bond between them that had developed through those experiments, those lectures, those sessions of treatment, and that subtle encouragement to sing... all of it contributed to what kept her from killing her that night.

    Perhaps, deep down, Aubrey wanted Helena to have her day of judgment in due time. Aubrey could wait for that...

    As if he read her mind, Thaddeus changed the subject. "Do we have plans for our next outing yet?"

    "Next month, we''ll set up a spot in Thornhaven to perform a mini-concert. Get that side of the city hyped up," Aubrey answered with a wink and a chuckle. "In the meantime, I say we chill. Relax a little. Take it easy for a bit."

    "Your vernacular grows stranger by the passing week," Cedric chimed in, breaking his usual stoic character to interject in their conversation.

    Aubrey burst out laughing. "Ha! Right."

    A tug on her jacket drew her attention to Liza, who sidled up to her with her head bowed low and her face obscured by her bangs.

    "Um... Thornhaven is... so far away from here. Are we... even safe? That side of Mordenstradt is... more dangerous... for us. We shouldn''t go there, right? Or¡ªor... can''t we try the Ironworks instead? Is that... uhm, wouldn''t that be... better? Uh... please."

    Aubrey grinned as Liza spoke up, enjoying her cute demeanor and quirks. She placed an arm around the girl''s shoulders and gave her a reassuring squeeze. The contact seemed to relax Liza as she settled against Aubrey, resting her head against her arm.

    "Liz, honey... You know how it goes: Start with the shitty neighborhoods for our initial debut, then work our way up to the upper crust," Aubrey explained, tapping the tip of the violinist''s nose with a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

    But Liza did make a good point.

    Stolen story; please report.

    A trip to Thronhaven took close to an hour by riding in steam coaches or omnibuses, so walking there and back would take the better part of the entire day. Especially since the bus routes from the Ironworks to Thornhaven tended to be less convenient.

    Plus, it''s not like they could all take public transportation anyway, given their appearance despite being disguised. It would be too risky, with their status as Unhallowed creatures, to use it freely.

    "If only I had some sort of power to make traveling easier... That would be nifty," Aubrey muttered sarcastically, feigning nonchalance while secretly hoping to give herself a prompt.

    "You do," Cedric answered flatly.

    "I do?!"

    "Thou hast?"

    Liza gazed up at Aubrey with wide eyes, curious.

    Aubrey stared at Cedric, also with eyes wide. "I do?! Since when?!"

    "Since always," Cedric stated as if it were obvious.

    "Then why didn''t you tell me sooner?! Dammit, Cedric, spit it out!"

    Cedric regarded her with a deadpan expression. "I apologize. I assumed you knew."

    "Assumed?! What exactly am I missing here?!" she asked impatiently, stamping her foot in frustration.

    A smile ghosted across Cedric''s stone lips, but it vanished as soon as it came. His features settled back into their neutral expression. "We shall discuss this when we return to the cathedral."

    Aubrey grumbled in annoyance but relented. "Fine..."

    With that, they continued their journey home in silence, the sounds of their footsteps echoing off the walls.

    <hr>

    When they arrived at the Cathedral of the Sovereign Incantatrix, the group paused outside, facing Cedric and waiting for him to explain. The gargoyle seemed to ignore them for a minute, merely glancing up at the moon above them. As Aubrey was about to speak, Cedric interrupted her.

    "Have you ever wondered why you were so insistent with your choice to stay at the cathedral?" Cedric began, his voice low. His head swiveled to fix a steady gaze on Aubrey, who shrugged.

    Aubrey blinked, surprised by the question. She''d never really given it any thought. It had just felt natural to her. "It felt right? Uhm... I like the aesthetic vibe of the gothic style? Besides, what other options did I have?"

    "With your appearance, you could have attempted to blend in elsewhere. Even found a way into the high society to live lavishly," Cedric offered, gesturing toward her outfit. "Yet, you decided to stay in The Hollows. Why presume the cathedral would suffice?"

    "Well..." Aubrey hesitated, struggling to find the words. "Honestly, I''d like to know that myself, actually. It felt right at the time, yeah. I guess it seemed kinda fun, even back then? Like... why not, y''know? My gut told me this was a good place to start, I guess."

    "And what of your intuition now?"

    She frowned at the question.

    What of it? This place was her new home. It had served them well so far, providing sanctuary from prying eyes and hunters like Seraphine. Her instincts had proven true to some degree, she reasoned. So why doubt them now?

    "Why the twenty questions, Cedric? What''s your point?" she asked, growing suspicious. He usually didn''t beat around the bush. "Just spit it out and stop playing dumb."

    The gargoyle chuckled. "Apologies. It seemed a logical enough jump. Perhaps I should have been more direct. No matter. In short: You are the chosen of this cathedral."

    She stared blankly at him. "Excuse me, what?"

    "You are the master of this structure," Cedric repeated, slowly enunciating each word. "A disciple of the Sovereign Incantatrix. Being able to wield Hellion''s Cry is the ultimate indication that the goddess favors you. Your decision to dwell here is proof. I suspected as much after our battle, and the truth has only become clearer over time."

    His eyes gleamed with pride as he spoke, the fervent tone in his voice taking her aback.

    Aubrey squirmed under the weight of his praise, unused to such adoration directed her way. It unsettled her more than she cared to admit.

    She shook her head. Her expression remained flat. "Cedric, buddy, pal, ol'' chum o'' mine, what in the living fuck are you talking about? Can we back up a second and review? Disciple of whatnow? Hold the phone, time out. Stop. Reverse. Press ''1.''"

    "Disciple of the Sovereign Incantatrix. I had mentioned it to you briefly during that fateful encounter, do you not recall?" Cedric replied, sounding genuinely surprised at her confusion.

    Aubrey narrowed her eyes, trying to remember. Did he? Her mind spun as she tried to process this information.

    Maybe in the back of her mind, she''d subconsciously picked up on the concept before, but she associated the word ''sovereign'' with the coins used in Mordenstradt.

    She hadn''t really paid the religious side of things much attention, despite having lived in the cathedral for months now. A strange sense of guilt wormed its way into her brain, which she promptly shoved aside in favor of curiosity.

    Curious, Aubrey questioned further, prodding at the revelation as if it were a loose tooth. "So... I''m like... a follower of the Incantatrix? Alright. Cool, cool, cool. How does that translate to being a disciple? Isn''t a disciple someone like... devoted to the teachings of another or something? Don''t think we''ve covered any ''teachings'' yet, Cedric."

    "Not quite," Cedric countered gently, raising one hand to punctuate his next sentence. "More akin to the role of an apostle to a god, in your context. Though, perhaps it would help if I explain a little more of the history around the Incantatrix, as you call her..."

    "O-Oh... Sure, why not?" Aubrey agreed, despite still trying to wrap her mind around it all. "But before you start on that, can you get to the part where you said I can ''travel easily?''"

    Cedric gave her a curt nod. "This cathedral acts as your haven¡ªyour base of power and safety. Beyond that, it serves another function. While it originally was constructed within what is now Gallows Row, it also exists as a parallel realm unto itself, linked to wherever else in Mordenstradt you may wish to venture."

    Aubrey''s jaw fell open. "Woah, is this place like a hub?"

    "Indeed. Think of it thusly: Should you desire, you can travel directly from the cathedral to anywhere within this city through the mist that surrounds it. All you must do is set your destination within your mind and walk beyond the fog. Then, you will enter whatever other section you desire."

    "So it works as a sort of teleportation... Portal thing. Oh man, that''s so freaking cool!"

    "You can also return to the cathedral the same way," Cedric added, a hint of amusement evident in his tone. "Just will it, and when the mists take hold of you, you may bid them to return you here."

    Aubrey turned excitedly to Liza and Thaddeus. "You guys hearing this?! Sounds legit, right? Right?! Holy crap!"

    "Verily," Thaddeus mused with interest. "That... would certainly prove expedient indeed."

    "U-Um... Yeah? Sounds neat, at least...?" Liza replied, uncertain. Her tone shifted from inquisitive to questioning halfway through, causing Aubrey to laugh.

    The idea excited her. Anything to cut down travel time and exposure in a city this big. It would drastically lower their risk of getting spotted by Hunters or constabularies, too. Best of all, if she ever gets chased again, she could just escape through the mists and loop back to the cathedral. A double win in terms of safety!

    She mentally filed away that knowledge for later. Just knowing it would be available made her feel safer already.

    "I can take other people with me, right? Not just myself?" Aubrey asked, turning back to Cedric.

    "Yes. You can bring whomever you wish with you, so long as they remain close to you when traversing the mist."

    Aubrey shot him a toothy grin. "Hell yeah. This changes so much. Wow!"

    Liza edged closer to Aubrey, tucking a stray strand of raven hair behind her ear. "Does that mean... we still be going to Thornhaven? You won''t change your mind?"

    "Yep," she replied, popping the ''p.'' "Still on for that plan. Now more than ever!"

 Chapter 57: Dissolution and Progress

    "So, what''s this history of the Incantatrix?" Aubrey asked after they settled inside the cathedral. She sat cross-legged on the floor with Thaddeus and Liza beside her, while Cedric remained standing before them.

    Cedric straightened up, his wings folded neatly behind him. "I shall endeavor to summarize this as best I can. Please forgive any omissions or gaps. But before that, since you are not a native denizen of Mordenstradt, I''ll start with a general history lesson of the city-state in its nascent stage."

    "Yeah, yeah, sure. Whatever you say. Fire away."

    He cleared his throat, wings flexing a bit for emphasis.

    "The history of Mordenstradt is as old as the stones beneath your feet," he began, his deep voice resonating in the dimly lit cathedral. "The city has not always been the bastion of innovation and progress as it stands today. Long before the first smokestacks were built, before the streets bustled with mechanized carriages and arcane lamps, the city was very different. Darker."

    Aubrey leaned back against the cold stone wall, folding her arms as she listened. She didn¡¯t really care for history lessons, but the way Cedric spoke held a certain gravity that kept her from completely zoning out.

    The gargoyle gestured at the stained glass windows around them, his claws casting flickering shadows across their vivid colors. "The city wasn''t always called Mordenstradt. Back then, it was known as Veridor. The first settlers to this region found the lands bountiful, but also perilous. Ancient eldritch creatures, powerful undead monstrosities, and horrifying abominations plagued the land."

    "What''s the difference between those and Unhallowed?" Aubrey butted in. This might shed some light on her own condition or help her understand a bit better.

    Cedric smiled knowingly, tapping his chin with a single stone digit.

    "Eldritch creatures are beings of such immense size, complexity, or scale that they''re nigh incomprehensible. Most of the time, just viewing their horrific form causes debilitating, long-term harm to the mortal mind. Think of these beings as god-like entities that warps the world around them by mere existence."

    Aubrey shuddered. Yeah, no way in hell she''d mess with something like that.

    "Then there''s undead monstrosities..." he continued. "Those are reanimated corpses made by an accursed plague born from one of those god-like beings. They vary in size, form, and threat level. Common folk reanimate as feral shamblers, animals mutate into hideous beasts, and I can go on. Their sole purpose is to consume, infect, and create more of their kind."

    "That''s like... Zombies! I''ve seen those in horror flicks and games," Aubrey burst out, pumping her fist. She loved the occasional good ol'' fashioned zombie action. Maybe these zombie-like creatures here weren''t so bad then. She could do her own zombie-killing badassery in real life!

    Except Cedric wasn''t done.

    "And finally, there are abominations. What people call ''Unhallowed'' belonged to the broader classification of abominations. Their genesis is tied to those accursed beings and the fallout that comes with their presence in this mortal plane. Abominations thrive on the instability of reality. Unhallowed manifest differently from one another, given their intrinsic relationship with their humanity. Their transformations often reflect this struggle."

    "...O-oh..." She shrugged, rubbing the back of her head sheepishly as he finished explaining. "Okay... So then what happened? How''d the city change from Veridor to Mordenstradt?"

    Liza rested her head on Aubrey''s shoulder as she listened. Her silky dark hair brushed against Aubrey''s cheek, tickling it ever so slightly. It almost distracted her from the weight of Cedric''s words. Thaddeus also chimed in, emitting a noise somewhere between a hum and a low whine before his gears hissed in apparent agreement.

    Aubrey ran her fingers through her hair. She leaned forward attentively.

    "The settlers weren''t powerless," Cedric explained, resuming his tale. "The people of that time revered four deities¡ªThe Sovereign Incantatrix, the Lord of Iron Flame, the Seraph of the Silver Dawn, and the Mistress of the Labyrinthine Waters. In response to the rising threats, the population''s faith grew strong, birthing disciples amongst their ranks. Those blessed men and women joined forces against the tide of abominations and forged an alliance. They organized themselves and armed their kin, driving back the horrors bit by bit."

    "Four gods, huh?" Aubrey murmured. "Figures. There''s always four. Gotta keep things symmetrical." She smirked at her own sarcasm but kept her eyes on Cedric.

    He paused for a moment, eyes closing as though lost in thought.

    Aubrey waited patiently.

    When he opened them again, there seemed to be an air of wistfulness in his voice. "Eventually, Veridor prospered despite the hardships faced. Years turned into decades, then centuries passed. By that time, most of the Unhallowed fell along with the older, primordial eldritch entities."

    "Dang... These disciples sounded badass back in the day," she mused aloud. "Wish I could''ve seen how rad they were."

    "Verily. Such historical persons of note wouldst present a marvelous sight indeed," Thaddeus quipped, echoing her sentiments.

    Liza remained silent but nodded in agreement.

    "But society continued to advance and grow as they left the threats behind," Cedric continued, his wings fluttering slightly at his back as he resumed his pace. "There came a turning point¡ªa cusp of change known as the Age of Dissolution. The rise of industry¡ªsteam, steel, and technomancy¡ªaltered the very fabric of society. What was once sacred became secondary, and the old ways were... discarded."

    "So... wait, they just gave up on the gods? How does that even happen? One day, they just woke up and decided, ''Eh, let''s stop believing in the gods? We''ve got cool tools and toys now?'' That''s bonkers!"

    "Not quite," Cedric corrected gently. "The rise of industrialism and progress led to a waning faith and a shift in belief systems. Those once hailed as champions of the faith were instead branded as criminals and oppressors. As technology grew in sophistication, so did society''s tolerance of these changes. There arose a new type of innovation that belittled the supernatural and saw it as archaic and restrictive.

    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

    "The Disciples faced the brunt of that contempt and resentment. Over time, they came to represent oppression under old regimes. The masses seized their opportunity. By embracing an emerging industry rooted in rationalism and materialism, the populace forged their path. Slowly but surely, the faithful dwindled in number."

    "That sucks," Aubrey remarked sympathetically, gazing down at the ground. "So... just because things got better for a bit, they forgot the hardships and went against the people who saved them? And now, anyone from back then gets automatically labeled a criminal... Sheesh. Tough life..."

    "Indeed," Cedric concurred in his usual low baritone. "Rulers and scholars came to power¡ªthose who saw the rise of industrial technology and technomancy as the solution to humanity¡¯s plight. They claimed that the gods were no longer necessary, and that human progress could replace divine intervention. And so, within fifty years of the Age of Dissolution, worship of the old gods was outlawed. Temples were razed, priests were executed or exiled, and the practice of magic itself became taboo outside of industrial applications or ''non-divine'' approved sorcery."

    Aubrey whistled low. "Damn. That¡¯s a bit extreme."

    "Inevitably," Cedric continued with an ironic shake of his head, "their names were lost to time. Gone from historical texts and buried away... As the generations rolled by, the tales of past saints, disciples, and champions slowly transformed into slander, then warnings, and then ultimately into myths."

    "How do you remember all this? Haven''t these happened a long, long, long, long, long, long-ass time ago?" Aubrey blurted out without thinking. "Do you have a photographic memory or something?"

    Cedric chuckled lightly at that before sighing.

    Aubrey made an apologetic face. She hadn''t meant to interrupt his story.

    "While not precisely photographic... I have a rather unique recollection of history due to my nature," Cedric admitted somewhat cryptically, folding his hands behind his back. "But, to summarize, the city formally renamed itself to Mordenstradt two centuries ago, bringing us to today."

    "Well, damn, that was... uh, heavy," Aubrey replied, rubbing the back of her head. "You know how to give a lecture, alright. It wasn''t boring or anything, though, so props to you. A lot happened back then, huh?"

    He let out an amused grunt, the corner of his mouth lifting just a tad before his expression became stoic again. "It pleases me to hear it did not bore you. Nevertheless, I digress. We shall focus upon the tale of the Incantatrix."

    "Oh yeah, back to the whole ''disciple'' thing. Enlighten me, Ceddy. What''s her deal?"

    The gargoyle drummed his claws on the marble wall behind him thoughtfully.

    "The Sovereign Incantatrix was the goddess of music, magic, and prophecy. Her followers believed that the universe itself was a great symphony, and that all living things were notes within it. Every soul, every action, every choice added to the melody. Her power lay not only in music but in the understanding of the spaces between¡ªthe silences, the dissonance, and the echoes that made up life''s larger song. I believe you also felt an inkling of this truth during your own performances here."

    Aubrey finger-gunned Cedric at his statement, acknowledging his point. "Gotcha. Then what? Keep going."

    "The Incantatrix¡¯s followers believed that through her, they could channel not just magic, but the very essence of creation. They sought to create music not only with their voices or instruments, but with their wills. Legends speak of them unleashing melodies so powerful they could calm raging storms, heal the gravely injured, or conjure forth objects from pure thought alone."

    "And you¡¯re saying... that''s where the whole ''Disciples of the Incantatrix'' thing comes in," Aubrey surmised, her brows rising as she made the connection.

    "Just so," Cedric affirmed. "Her disciples were trained in the ways of music and magic, understanding that each note, each spell, was a part of the grand symphony of the universe. They believed that by aligning themselves with the Incantatrix''s melodies, they could alter fate itself. This concept lies at the core of the Incantatrix''s power: the idea that all existence is linked through an underlying harmony, a harmony that can be shaped and influenced by those who understand its nature."

    "And this cathedral?"

    "Yes, this building," Cedric indicated as his gaze swept around the huge interior of the space. "This place was built at the height of her influence. The seat of her power. You have seen the stained glass depictions of her? It holds significant history in this city''s past."

    Aubrey pointed behind him towards the apse area.

    "Hell yeah I noticed those! At first, I thought she looked hot, in a dignified way. In fact, some of her stained glass images here kind of inspired some of the elements of my own stage persona..."

    The gargoyle chuckled and gestured with his claw. "That wasn''t what I intended to draw your attention to, but I''m glad they resonated with you on some level."

    The stained glass images of the Incantatrix sat high up above them at the apex of the cathedral. One in particular, that of her composed expression adorned with silver filigree, wreathed in lilac flames, stared down at them in stony judgement. It always felt like those kaleidoscopic eyes followed Aubrey, no matter where she roamed within the cathedral. All-seeing, ever watchful.

    It didn''t bother her, however.

    Instead, the opposite: A calming presence accompanied the still image of the Incantatrix whenever she was under her gaze. It was like a voice within her mind, gentle and soothing, that said, ''You are welcome here, my child.'' Ever since she stumbled into this cathedral and took up residence here, that same, inaudible voice resonated in her heart.

    "Okay, but how am I a disciple if I didn''t even know about her until you brought it up? I mean, I didn''t exactly sign up for any cosmic choir."

    The gargoyle chuckled at her bemusement, his wings folding primly behind him. "The Incantatrix¡¯s ways are not bound by mortal understanding. Her choice is not always known to those she favors. But the fact that you wield Hellion¡¯s Cry, a relic forged by her hand, is proof enough. She chose you, and though I cannot speak to her intent, I trust her divine wisdom. Whether you accept it or not, her hand is upon you. The power you wield is not a coincidence. Of that, I am certain."

    She twiddled her thumbs as she contemplated his words.

    Truthfully, she didn''t mind the idea of being her so-called ''disciple.'' The whole goddess of magic and music? Sweet. It worked well with her theme. The powers to change fate, manipulate minds with the sheer strength of her own personality and charisma? Super extra sweet. Crazy ass voice that can be a weapon, a form of healing, and a myriad of other applications? Rad as hell, times ten.

    Being tied to a random godly being in this fantasy world could''ve been worse. If anything, this Incantatrix lady seemed kind of cool, if the lore behind her wasn''t all exaggeration.

    But, Aubrey thought, better the devil you know...

    Er... Goddess... In this case...

    "Alright, fine," she muttered. "So I¡¯m, what, like a high priestess or something now? Great. I¡¯ll add that to the list of things I didn¡¯t sign up for."

    Cedric chuckled softly. "Perhaps not a priestess. But you are special, Aubrey. You hold power in your hands. What you decide to do with that power, how it changes you, and how you change the world... rests with you. All of life''s details are harmonized as part of one great composition. Remember that, and let your actions reflect your deepest convictions."

    "I¡¯ll make an effort," she muttered dryly.

    Truthfully, as long as she gets to exact her revenge on her killers, keep her bandmates safe, and live out her life with a bang¡ªconsequences be damned¡ªthen she would feel fulfilled. As a wandering spirit turned Unhallowed, what more could she ask for?

 Chapter 58: Strolling Down Memory Lane

    Aubrey felt like she needed a drink after Cedric''s history lesson, so she decided to take a break for the day and relax.

    In her bedroom in the attic, Aubrey sprawled across her bed, one arm tucked under her head. She stared at the ceiling, thinking. Her mind kept replaying the story Cedric told, his words sinking in more and more as time passed.

    The sound of Liza''s violin echoed faintly throughout the cathedral, adding a melancholic layer to the still atmosphere. She must have been practicing downstairs.

    Aubrey smiled at the thought.

    She really liked Liza. There was an innocence to her that Aubrey found endearing. But at the same time, she couldn''t deny there was also something dark and mysterious about her, too. The way she kept to herself most of the time made her seem like some kind of shy recluse.

    But she knew better now. She saw the subtle hints of trauma lurking behind those expressive eyes despite the unkempt appearance. Her disheveled hair and clothing were just a facade to hide what lay beneath.

    Aubrey''s smile faltered.

    She''d seen those eyes before. Not on Liza, no. But back in her original world. In the eyes of a few girls from her past¡ªgirls who had been hurt by others who held power over them. Abused. Neglected. Tormented.

    And, in some cases, worse.

    Aubrey had come to recognize those eyes all too well.

    The way Liza would flinch at sudden movements, or how she''d sometimes hesitate to speak up when spoken to... It all added up. But, the violinist always seemed to perk up whenever Aubrey gave her attention. Like a flower seeking out the sun.

    Liza had become dependent on Aubrey in a way. Not in an unhealthy manner, at least Aubrey hoped so. But enough to notice the shift in the girl''s behavior whenever Aubrey would leave the cathedral or even just disappear into the attic for too long.

    Liza had grown attached. And honestly? Aubrey couldn''t blame her. If their situations were reversed, she''d probably do the same thing.

    The experience of being betrayed, killed, and resurrected as a monster? Yeah. That''s bound to mess with someone''s mind. The only reason Aubrey seemed to have maintained her sanity thus far, relatively speaking, was her sheer stubbornness, resilience, and an almost pathological inability to let someone get one over her without repercussions.

    The fact that she has memories of two lives in her head helped keep her grounded somewhat, too¡ªdespite how fragmented and blurry those memories could get at times.

    Her rockstar self¡ªher ''real'' self¡ªwould never have dreamed of killing anyone. She wasn''t a violent person, not really. Oh sure, she got into her fair share of fights back when she ran with a rougher crowd. But those were always defensive or reactionary, never something she sought out herself. She never started the fight, but she always made damn sure she finished them.

    But her current self? This Aubrey was a killer. A murderer. A creature who thrived off the emotions of others. She didn''t like to admit it, but there was something deeply satisfying about watching the fear and panic in her victim''s eyes before she killed them.

    A part of her craved it.

    Not just the fear, though that was certainly part of it. No, what truly got her going was the feeling of being in control. Of having power over someone else. It filled her with a sense of euphoria unlike anything else she''d ever experienced. A rush that made her feel invincible.

    And that terrified her.

    Not the sensation itself, but what it might mean.

    Was this a side effect of being revived as a banshee? Some kind of twisted, dark impulse ingrained into her very core? Or was this something more primal, something that had always been lurking deep within her and had finally found an outlet?

    What about her ''other'' self? The Aubrey from this world? The one who had been killed and betrayed?

    All the negative feelings fueling her aggression, anger, and bitterness¡ªwas that really all just the ''other'' Aubrey''s emotions bleeding through? Or were they Aubrey''s own, and she''s simply using the ''other'' Aubrey''s circumstances to justify her own actions?

    How much of this Aubrey Sinclair was really her?

    These questions gnawed at the back of her mind constantly. And the worst part? She wasn''t sure she wanted to know the answers. Because once she did... What then? Where would that leave her?

    And then there was this System of hers, whatever that truly was. What it entailed or implied for her situation, she didn''t know. Nor did she really understand how or why she had it. Was this a result of the Incantatrix''s blessing? Or maybe it''s related to her unique existence? She had no way of knowing for sure.

    With a thought, Aubrey opened her status screen.

    [Name] Aubrey

    [Race] Revenant

    [Variant] Banshee

    [Rank] Vivace

    [Attribute] Grade

    [Tempo] C

    [Dynamics] B

    [Timbre] D

    [Pitch] C

    [Harmony] E

    [Resonance] D

    [Cadence] D

    [Riff] C ?

    The System, whatever it might be, didn''t give her much in the way of actual guidance. Just cryptic ratings and musical terms that seemed to correlate with her actions and behavior.

    She had already reached Vivace Rank, whatever that meant. A part of her felt a tinge of pride at the notion that her ''level'' had gone up. But then again, did that mean anything at all? Was she growing stronger? Was this System some kind of tool she could use to better herself? To gain more power?

    Or... Was she being judged in some way? Evaluated based on some arbitrary metric set by an unknown entity or force?

    No. That probably wasn''t the case. She had agency on what attributes to increase and what abilities to take.

    Her gaze flickered over the numbers and ratings on the translucent pane.

    Tempo. The speed of her life''s song.

    Dynamics. How strong or soft she lived.

    Timbre. The quality of her soul''s tune.

    Pitch. How high or low she reached.

    Harmony. Her alignment with others.

    Resonance. How well she synchronized with the world''s rhythm.

    Cadence. Her sense of balance.

    Riff. A combination of her improvisational skills and her capacity for independent action.

    She could sense it in her very being that these ratings were quantifications of herself and her current state. And from what she gathered, they seemed to align with her actions and behavior.

    But... what did any of that mean in the grand scheme of things? And why did it use music terminology for everything?

    If this world operated under a ''System,'' and she happened to have access to it, did that mean there were others out there like her? People or beings who could manipulate the System? Or interact with it somehow? Could there be others with similar interfaces?

    So many questions.

    So few answers.

    And honestly, at the end of the day, she wasn''t sure she''d even like the answers she got. It could end up being something she''d rather not know. Better to stay ignorant and blissful than find out something horrible, right?

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    That thought left a bitter taste in her mouth.

    With a frustrated groan, she rolled over onto her side and curled up into a ball. She needed to get these thoughts out of her head. She needed something else to focus on.

    Anything.

    Aubrey took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. She closed her eyes and focused on the sounds around her. The faint melody of Liza''s violin practice echoed throughout the cathedral.

    After a few moments, she found her thoughts beginning to drift away from the darker paths they had been treading towards. Instead, her mind began to wander to places far less ominous. Places filled with memories from her former life as a rockstar.

    A small smile crept onto her lips as the melody reminded her of one of her favorite songs. Without even realizing it, she began to hum along quietly to herself.

    Eventually, Aubrey opened her eyes once again, feeling somewhat refreshed. She sat upright, swinging her legs off the bed and standing up with a stretch. Time to find something else to occupy her mind.

    <hr>

    Aubrey wandered downstairs into the nave of the cathedral, following the soft, melancholic tune of the violin. She found Liza seated in the chancel area, lost in her own little world. Her long, inky black hair fell like a waterfall down her back and shoulders as she played.

    Aubrey''s lips quirked up slightly at the sight. Liza seemed so focused on her playing, so immersed in the music, that Aubrey couldn''t bring herself to disturb her right away.

    She leaned against one of the nearby stone pillars, arms folded across her chest. For a while, she simply watched and listened.

    Liza''s technique was flawless. Every note rang true, every movement precise. Her talent was undeniable, especially considering the violin''s notoriously difficult learning curve. But beyond that, there was also a certain warmth to her music that made Aubrey feel almost nostalgic, in a way. As if she could sense a bit of Liza''s heartache within her song.

    As the last lingering notes faded into the air, Aubrey clapped softly. The sound startled Liza out of her reverie, making her jump slightly and glance around in confusion before spotting Aubrey.

    Aubrey gave her a grin and a small wave. "Hey."

    "O-oh! Um... hi?" Liza stammered nervously, a faint blush tinging her cheeks as she stood up, brushing her dark bangs away from her face with a graceful flick of her hand. "I didn''t realize you were there... watching..."

    "Sorry. I didn''t want to interrupt your playing," Aubrey said apologetically. She pushed away from the pillar and sauntered closer, stopping only when she stood directly next to her.

    Liza dipped her head, staring down at the floor for a moment before looking back up at her. "D-Did you need something?"

    "Nah, just felt like taking a break from, you know..." Aubrey gestured vaguely at the attic. "Thinking too much, I guess."

    Liza tilted her head curiously.

    "Anyways..." Aubrey continued, taking a quick step forward and wrapping an arm around Liza''s shoulders. "I was thinking of going out on a night stroll. Maybe hit up a few bars for a drink. You wanna come?"

    "E-Eh?!" Liza squeaked. "M-Me? Go out? With you?"

    "Sure. Why not? It''ll be fun!" Aubrey smiled at her reassuringly. "Come on, I promise it''ll help clear our heads."

    "B-But... aren''t you worried about the Hunters or the constables?"

    "Don''t worry about them," she said, waving a hand dismissively. "As long as we don''t do anything conspicuous, we should be fine. Just a pair of young women enjoying a night out on the town. Who''s gonna suspect anything?"

    "W-Well..."

    Aubrey patted her lightly on the back, nodding towards the door. "Great! Let''s get going then!"

    Liza gaped at her. "W-Wha¡ªRight now? But I still need to..."

    "C''mon, c''mon! Time''s a-wasting!" Aubrey chirped, nudging her along.

    "O-Okay, okay!" Liza finally relented with a small sigh. She let Aubrey guide her towards the exit, stumbling a little as she tried to keep up with the eager banshee''s brisk pace.

    <hr>

    The night air caressed her skin as they stepped through the fog, emerging into Thornhaven''s streets with nary a sound beyond the soft rustling of her coat. She led the way, with Liza trailing behind her.

    The cobbled streets glistened beneath their feet as the light of the streetlamps cast long, flickering shadows across the cityscape. The pale moon overhead bathed everything in an ethereal silver hue.

    Everything seemed so much more vibrant in the darkness¡ªalmost surreal. Even the sound of the distant carriages'' hooves on stone echoed louder somehow in the night, each clip and clop reverberating like a drumbeat in her ears.

    Aubrey inhaled deeply, savoring the scent of the city''s nocturnal atmosphere. A m¨¦lange of smoke, moisture, and something else... something like the lingering aroma of an incense that had burned out hours earlier.

    As they made their way down the sidewalk, the streetlamps above flickered in turn as if to mark their passage through the night. A gentle breeze swept past them, stirring the misty air. It carried with it the faint, unmistakable smell of rain¡ªnot yet fallen, but imminent nonetheless.

    In the distance, a stray dog barked at shadows unseen.

    She could hear the muffled voices of people talking in their homes behind closed doors and shuttered windows. But otherwise, the streets were mostly empty at this late hour, save for the occasional passerby. Those few souls who ventured out during these odd times paid no heed to the two girls who walked among them.

    All of them had their own secrets to hide. So what if there were two more figures amidst the fog?

    "That place looks nice," Aubrey murmured as she pointed to an ornate, yet disheveled inn off to their right. A sign hung outside, bearing the name ''The Prancing Bovine.''

    Liza glanced over at the building hesitantly, but then nodded. "I-If you think so...?"

    Aubrey chuckled and gave her a playful wink. "Hey, don''t worry. Stick close to me. We''re just two friends spending a cozy evening out on the town. Nobody will be any the wiser."

    "O-Okay... If you say so..."

    Together, they approached the double doors of The Prancing Bovine and pushed them open.

    The interior of the establishment opened up into a large, welcoming common room filled with round tables surrounded by chairs. Tapestries adorned the walls in intricate patterns and motifs. Lamps illuminated every corner of the common room, bathing all within in a warm, inviting glow. To the left of the entrance sat a grand wooden bar, behind which stood a man who had an impressive array of bottles lined upon the shelves behind him. There was also a staircase off to the side of the bar that led upward towards the inn proper.

    A few patrons sat scattered throughout the common room; some huddled together in small groups while others kept to themselves. Murmurs filled the air as the visitors discussed their affairs among themselves.

    After closing the door behind them, Aubrey glanced around before she moved forward.

    "Alright. I''ll go and order us some drinks," she said. "Wait for me there," she added, gesturing at an empty spot in the corner of the room. Liza followed obediently, taking a seat at one of the tables near the window.

    Aubrey approached the bar and placed her hand on the polished, dark brown surface. "Hey, bartender. We''d like to order."

    As the proprietor turned around, Aubrey noticed that he was a somewhat older man with long white hair tied back in a loose ponytail. Despite his age, his face showed only the faintest hint of wrinkles, suggesting that he might not have been quite as old as his snowy locks suggested.

    Aubrey squinted at him.

    She could have sworn there was something familiar about the way his ice-blue eyes gleamed beneath bushy, slightly furrowed brows.

    "Hmm..." The innkeeper tilted his head to one side, his gaze piercingly locked with hers. He stroked his beard thoughtfully as his mouth thinned into a tight line.

    "Yes?" Aubrey pressed.

    Those eyes narrowed at her in contemplation, but finally relaxed moments later.

    The old man cleared his throat. His voice had a deep richness to it that belied his years, carrying a certain gravitas. "Sorry, lassie. Didn''t mean to stare. It just seems like ye''ve grown taller since the last time I saw you, is all."

    His words caught Aubrey by surprise, and she looked at him blankly before the connection suddenly clicked in her head.

    She''s heard him before... Somewhere... No, no, not her. The other her. Her counterpart in this world.

    There''s that rich voice, and those fierce, sky-blue eyes. She''d seen him plenty of times in the memories that had been slowly returning to her throughout the past few weeks. It was clear to her now. This man... he was...

    "Hmm..." Aubrey stammered as the revelation sank in.

    After she had fled that asylum, the first person the other her had stumbled onto had been this very man.

    An eccentric tavern owner who happened upon her writhing, broken body at the cusp of dawn, seemingly half-dazed and malnourished to the point of emaciation. He''d taken her in, and over time, his hospitality gave the ''other'' her the stability to manage her budding madness. The fond memories of him teaching her how to prepare brews, meats, and spirits behind this very counter returned to her, bit by bit.

    She remembered watching as his large, callused hands expertly sliced cuts of raw flesh and dipped them into various simmering pots and pans, imparting all sorts of flavors on the ingredients within. All the while, he regaled her of tales, both near and far, spinning the mundane into myth.

    His name... if she recalled correctly, was... Was... Gran¡ªGrantham... Grantham Caelore. His name is Grantham Caelore. Yes, that''s right. Grantham...

    She blinked, realizing what this must seem like to him. "O-Oh! I-I mean... Um, yeah, right." A quick lie tumbled forth from her mouth. "Growing up does that to you, old man, in more ways than one."

    "That so? Well, the passage of time tends to sneak up on us, eh?" He leaned forward with his arms crossed across his chest. "Must say, yer a sight for sore eyes. How long has it been? Ten years or so?"

    Aubrey closed her eyes, letting out a sharp breath through her nose. "Somewhere around there, I guess."

    "The bloody ''ell happened to ya? Ya disappear right under my nose after leaving this place to those men in cloaks. Almost got my arse thrown into the slammer, they did!"

    His sudden, interrogative tone immediately caught her off guard. She raised her hands in mock surrender and tried to hide her confusion with an apologetic smile. "Hey, it''s not my fault the law hates free spirits like us."

    "Bollocks to that!" He slammed his hand down on the counter hard enough to make the glasses nearby rattle. His expression softened as he continued, though the gruffness in his voice remained. "Tell me where the ''ell ye''ve run off to. Y''think I haven''t been worried? Out of all the rotten timing to drop off the face o'' the bloody realm..."

    Aubrey winced slightly at the question. Of course, he would want to know something. Given what she knew of her history with him, it wouldn''t make sense for her to simply walk back into his life without providing some explanation as to why or how she disappeared.

    She glanced back at Liza, who sat patiently waiting for her at their table, seemingly oblivious to her current predicament.

    Crap... So much for a girl''s night out¡­

 Chapter 59: Girls Just Want to Have Fun

    Aubrey stared Grantham down for a long moment, her mouth thinning into an unhappy line as she mulled over her response. This wasn''t exactly the sort of reunion she was hoping for when she stepped inside this tavern. She was no stranger to getting grilled by someone who looked out for her, of course, but those had mostly just been because she took more than two hours to go on a "walk" at 2 o''clock in the morning, in her previous, unbridled life.

    This circumstance, however, had a completely different flavor¡ªan unnerving one that settled uncomfortably upon her shoulders like a blanket of nails. Thankfully, it didn''t last long.

    Grantham averted his gaze, shaking his head with a soft sigh.

    "Look," he began after a brief pause, rubbing his eyes in weary frustration. "I get it if ye''d rather not speak about it. Bloody ''ell knows I''d feel the same way if our positions were swapped."

    He dropped his hands to his sides and slowly looked up to meet her gaze. Aubrey blinked at him, noticing the weariness in his ice-blue eyes for the first time since they started talking. Gone now were the anger and suspicion that had so filled his voice a few moments before.

    He shrugged halfheartedly. "If you need a place to stay, yer more than welcome. There will always be a room waiting for you here, lass. Ye may have left this establishment of your own accord, but don''t go thinking I''ve forgotten the way ya used to bring the house down when yer voice filled these halls every other night."

    She felt a pang of something in her chest at those words¡ªa bitter cocktail of relief, regret, and gratitude. She had known she must have been close to Grantham Caelore for a long while in this world, but somehow hearing him say those things aloud made her acutely aware of exactly how much that must have meant to her doppelg?nger.

    Though she might not fully share all of the memories and experiences of the other Aubrey Sinclair, she couldn''t deny feeling an echo of that familiarity nonetheless.

    "Thanks," she murmured, clearing her throat awkwardly. "I''ll... think about it."

    "Aye..." He nodded once, then waved a hand at her dismissively. "But enough of that. I can''t let our first meeting in a decade get soured by something as piss-poor as the mood I''m in. Let me just grab ye two a round. On the house. Fer old time''s sake."

    She let out a quiet huff and gave him a brief nod. "Sounds like a plan," she said, shooting him a quick, stiff smile before turning away to rejoin Liza at their table in the corner.

    Despite Grantham''s earlier assurances, the short trek from the bar to their table felt... weighty, like walking through molasses. Each step dragged on longer than it should have, until she finally dropped into her seat beside Liza.

    Her companion leaned forward and asked in a low whisper, "Is everything... alright? You look kind of pale..."

    Aubrey closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose between two fingers, as if nursing a headache. Truthfully, she was more unprepared than anything. Unprepared for this impromptu encounter with someone from her past.

    The past of the other her, that is.

    I wonder... Can I call that my past if it feels like it''s something from some other life entirely?

    "Yeah..." She forced herself to take another deep, calming breath. "Yeah, everything''s fine. Just wasn''t expecting to see a certain someone from my past. No biggie." The reply sounded weak even to herself, but Aubrey didn''t know what else to say.

    Besides, Liza didn''t need to hear about all this right now. Better to focus on relaxing for once, rather than trying to navigate whatever emotional baggage might come up with this impromptu reunion with Grantham.

    Luckily, Liza merely shrugged it off after a bit more coaxing.

    "A-Alright... If you''re sure..." The quiet lull in the conversation persisted, broken only by the faint clink of glasses and cutlery, before she spoke again, her voice barely louder than a soft murmur, "W-What do you think of this place?"

    Aubrey glanced around. Even though she had just seen the same sights a few moments earlier, this time, everything carried a new significance. From the patterned tapestries on the walls to the rhythmic tick-tock of a small clock on one end of the bar, she noticed each and every detail anew through the lens of her remembered past.

    Foggy memories, scattered and fragmented like shards of broken glass, drifted back to her, piece by piece. She remembered working at The Prancing Bovine ten years prior, staying up late after hours to wash tables, clean dishes, serve drinks, and act as the tavern''s resident bard whenever the mood struck.

    On more than one occasion, she would end up having to lock horns against drunken bar patrons to shoo them out, lest they attract the unwanted attention of the authorities, which she apparently had no fondness of. A nagging feeling, an echo of resentment, seemed to be associated with the notion of uniforms and silver badges with swords engraved on them in her head.

    "...Lots of things seem to have changed, yet some still remain the same..." Aubrey said finally, leaning back into her chair as she gave another once-over throughout the common room. "I suppose it''s the little details, though. This place hasn''t changed all that much."

    "I... guess? Um... Were you here before?" Liza asked.

    "...Yeah. Yeah, I was." Aubrey replied wistfully. "A long time ago. Feels like almost a lifetime ago... Or maybe two." A corner of her mouth quirked upward at the last part. The irony wasn''t lost on her.

    Thankfully, Liza didn''t seem to pick up on it.

    Grantham eventually arrived to deliver their drinks. He placed a flagon full of a honey-hued, frothy ale down in front of Aubrey, and a more moderate portion of the same drink in front of Liza.

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    Aubrey leaned forward and lifted her tankard in a toast.

    "To old memories," she said, tilting it slightly towards Grantham, who smiled and gave her a small nod.

    "To good ones, I hope," he replied, nodding at the both of them with a warm chuckle. "Enjoy, lasses. Let me know if ya need anything else."

    She took a long draught of the ale. Warm and smooth and pleasantly malty. It had a rich, slightly sweet flavor that reminded her of a particular brand of craft beer she and her old crew had discovered during one of their world tours. What was it called again? Amber Ale, or something?

    Liza cautiously sipped at her own pint, but didn''t appear too enthusiastic about it. Rather, she seemed much more keen on simply observing the people around them and the ambient atmosphere of the room itself.

    For the next hour or so, they chatted idly over their drinks while Liza humored Aubrey''s rambling with awkward politeness. Liza herself didn''t offer much to talk about, but when the topic shifted to music theory and their time playing as a group, she became more expressive and animated. Her shyness melted away, and she peppered Aubrey with all sorts of questions concerning style, technique, and interpretation.

    Before long, however, a handful of well-dressed and gruff-looking men entered the bar. The man who led the group made his way to a table near the entrance and slammed a hand down onto it in an effort to catch Grantham''s attention. He then hollered for someone to take their orders, which prompted a harried waitress to hurry to attend to them.

    They took turns hooting and laughing loudly and making suggestive comments at the serving staff. Their loud voices quickly dominated the low buzz of background conversations. Then, an off-pitch voice joined in on the revelry, and although he carried the tune like a tone-deaf stray cat, it did nothing to stop the riotous energy from continuing.

    "Ugh..." Liza winced at the sight, burying her face in her hands.

    The loud voices, mixed with the rather boorish and downright unsavory language, weren''t to Aubrey''s taste either. She idly wondered why the group sat near the entrance. But the answer came soon enough in the form of another set of patrons arriving at the threshold.

    They were a posh pair, dressed to the nines in starchy suits and matching fedoras. They gave the dining area a sweeping glance before walking up to the rowdy group of five at the entrance. The apparent leader of the men¡ªa silver-haired old geezer¡ªextended his hand in greeting, and the one who first barged into the tavern reciprocated with a boisterous grin and a backslap.

    Well... That''s a dick-measuring contest if I ever saw one.

    Her eyes flicked towards Grantham, who glared daggers at the gaggle of riffraff while pouring whiskey for other customers. The nervous waitress took the newcomers'' orders and scampered away, doing a remarkable job avoiding being molested in the process.

    "Tch," Aubrey clicked her tongue in disdain. "Just look at those smug bastards. Got shit-eating grins on their faces and their wallets hangin'' loose by their side."

    She got up and sauntered over to Grantham, planting herself down on a stool next to the counter of the bar. "Hey, old man, you''re not just gonna take that lying down, are you?"

    Grantham scratched his chin and frowned. His steely eyes darted toward the source of the commotion, which had already become much more rambunctious following the latest arrivals.

    "I''d rather not make a scene, lass," he replied evenly. "Although, truthfully, I reckon'' the wankers don''t deserve the consideration."

    "Well, there must be a story here. From the looks of things, you know their type," Aubrey said, giving him a pointed look that dared him to challenge her statement.

    At this, he could only chuckle and shake his head slowly.

    "What, do y''fink I have no say in the kind of customers that walk through these doors?"

    "Well, I mean, obviously." She raised an eyebrow. "I haven''t seen ya'' toss someone out on their arse yet, though. Figured it''s something you''d have done by now."

    "It ain''t always that simple, lass..." he muttered, nudging his chin in the group''s direction. "See the pins they''re wearing on their coats? Those blokes are with the Iron Circle."

    Aubrey leaned over and squinted her eyes, peering at the men and trying to get a better view of the little metallic trinkets on their fancy garb. When she spotted it, it looked like some kind of coat of arms¡ªa flaming ball flanked by cogs and pistons on either side, encased in a hexagon.

    Iron Circle... That rings a bell...

    Right, Julian Blackwell had connections to those guys, didn''t he? As part of the organization''s leading group of industrialists.

    "Ah, gotcha." Aubrey crossed her arms across her chest and narrowed her eyes at the table again, a sly smirk crossing her lips. "And those assfaces are regulars here, eh?"

    "Now don''t even think of stirring the pot, lass." Grantham leveled an even look at her. "Yer all grown now and this ain''t the time to start old habits. Besides, they haven''t given me reason to throw ''em out just yet, aye?"

    At his warning, Aubrey turned back to face him and gave him her most innocent pout. The effect was somewhat ruined when she couldn''t help snorting aloud after remembering that such tactics might work for cute kids, but did absolutely nothing for fully-grown women.

    Still, it was too much fun to pass up.

    She laughed quietly to herself, only to break into full-on cackling upon seeing Grantham''s flat stare.

    "W-Well..." Aubrey took a minute to breathe and settle down. "I won''t say I''ll keep my nose out of it, but... Don''t worry, old man. I''ve learned a little about discretion over the years."

    She winked at him and left to rejoin Liza.

    "O-Oh! I-I, um, thought you went off to do... something?" Liza fumbled with her hands as she spoke. She tilted her head down, letting her hair cover the exposed side of her face, hiding the shadows beneath as she waited for Aubrey to take a seat again.

    Aubrey grinned, giving her a quick glance before shifting her gaze towards the gang of guffawing imbeciles again. "I just had an idea. Why don''t we put on a little show for them?"

    "...H-Huh?" Liza quirked her head at her with wide-eyed surprise. "Wh-What do you mean by that?"

    "Well, those people have a connection to a group I was meaning to investigate. Figured a free performance could bait us an invite to get cozy and chummy with ''em."

    Liza gave her a long, uncomprehending stare. "I... don''t like where this is going."

    Aubrey leaned over the table to whisper in her ear, "Where this is going... is after I get what I need from them, you can finish ''em off and suck their souls out and stuff." She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively as she pulled back and straightened in her seat. "It''s been a while since you''ve eaten anything other than my life essence, hasn''t it?"

    Liza flinched and fidgeted in her seat, a rosy blush coloring her cheeks. "U-Um... W-Well... That''s because you... told me to only feed from you. Because we don''t want to reduce... the number of people who could attend our performances."

    "Exactly," Aubrey agreed with a satisfied nod. "And you''ve been very good about it. Haven''t fed on anyone, even when we were cooped up in the cathedral. But you see... these assholes," she hooked her thumb over her shoulder, gesturing at the obnoxious men. "These aren''t the type of fans we want anyway. So..."

    Aubrey smirked wickedly. "I figured I''d bring home the bacon this time. Just make sure to wipe your mouth clean after you eat."

    Liza blinked several times in rapid succession, looking confused, nervous, and slightly suspicious all at the same time.

    After a moment, though, her lips finally began to stretch into a matching grin. The shadows around her face began to thicken and obscure her features until only her glowing eyes could be seen amongst them.

    "I... like where this is going..."

 Chapter 60: Spiders Web

    After performing a brief, simple tune, the duo then set themselves up on a low, raised platform, which served as a makeshift stage. Aubrey''s fingers gripped at the strings of her guitar and gently stroked their tips across the metallic cords. Her eyes closed, shutting out everything else around her¡ªthe murmurs, the clatter, even the sound of the occasional cup or cutlery.

    In that moment, there was nothing in existence except for the feel of the wood against her palms and the vibrations running through them as her fingertips danced atop the strings. Her other hand strummed at the chords, producing a melodic, acoustic tune that filled the tavern.

    It wasn''t flashy, no. It didn''t have any fancy trills or embellishments.

    Simple. Precise. Clean. Just as all songs should start¡ªwith a basic idea and a clear vision of where it wanted to go.

    Liza followed her lead, pulling her bow across the violin''s strings to add an element of depth to the sound. Slowly, she added in different harmonies and flourishes of her own, weaving a more intricate melody to accompany Aubrey''s simpler, yet no less effective composition.

    The two of them began to fall into sync.

    The crowd''s murmur died down. One by one, every pair of eyes in the tavern swiveled in their direction. The discordant din faded away, and the soft, measured rhythm of the music became the sole focal point within the room. With her eyes still shut, Aubrey''s fingers continued to move deftly across the strings of her guitar. A slow smile spread across her face as she felt the hairs stand on end at the back of her neck.

    The first step of her plan was a success.

    Now it was time for the next part¡ªto lure the unsuspecting fish into her net.

    Aubrey opened her eyes. She focused her gaze on her target, the posse from the Iron Circle, and locked onto their leader¡ªa middle-aged, ginger-haired man clad in a classy, navy-blue suit. He had a broad jaw and a square chin, with sharp features that cut a striking profile. His deep-set eyes stared back at her from beneath heavy lids, which narrowed ever so slightly at the sight of her.

    In that instant, Aubrey knew she''d made the right choice in performing a simple, acoustic number. Her song had caught his attention. The only thing left was to make sure he was hooked.

    So, she sang. Her voice rose above the gentle hum of their instruments, cutting through the ambient noise of the bar to reach the ears of every patron present.

    It wasn''t a powerful belting. Far from it. Instead, Aubrey delivered the lyrics of her song in a gentle, crooning tone, the sound lilting and airy, as if she were half-talking and half-singing all at once. There was no urgency to her words, just a sense of calm, effortless control. Even when the chorus came and she had to stretch her vocal range, she maintained this relaxed cadence, never rushing or straining for the next note.

    The performance wasn''t spectacular. It wouldn''t be an instant classic, or a hit single. But, like a good, aged wine, it had that elusive quality that made people stop and listen¡ªand then come back for more once they''d grown accustomed to its unique flavor.

    Slowly, the Iron Circle men began to shift in their seats. Their postures straightened and they turned towards her. Aubrey could see them leaning forward, listening intently. She saw their gazes rove over her body, taking in her wild, tangled locks, her scantily clad figure, and the confident gleam in her crimson eyes, which seemed to flash even brighter than normal in the dim light of the tavern.

    As soon as she finished singing, Aubrey strummed one final chord on her guitar, letting it ring out across the now-silent room. Then, with a satisfied sigh, she looked out at the crowd, flashing them a bright smile.

    The entire room erupted into applause.

    Cheers and hoots erupted from all corners. Several people stood up, raising their drinks high and shouting their approval. A few threw coins into the hats set on the floor in front of them, while others simply cheered enthusiastically from their tables.

    Aubrey and Liza stepped down from the stage and returned to their table, but not without getting some congratulatory handshakes along the way.

    That wasn''t the only thing they''d earned, however. Just as Aubrey had expected, her little stunt managed to attract the attention of her quarry.

    A young man with slicked-back, blond hair and a neatly-groomed beard walked up to the duo.

    "Evenin'' lasses!" he greeted, doffing his fedora. The gentleman had on a maroon vest, black bowtie, and trousers. He wore a bright, friendly grin, but Aubrey caught the way his blue eyes traveled up and down their bodies and then lingered on Liza''s figure in particular. "Name''s Geoff. Me and my mates were quite taken with yer little ditty there. Would you mind joining us fer some drinks? I''d love to get acquainted!"

    Aubrey suppressed a smirk as she caught Liza''s sidelong glance, her cheeks slightly reddening at the mention of his desire to "get acquainted."

    Turning her attention back to their potential catch, Aubrey returned his greeting with a slight incline of her head. "Sure, why not? The name''s Auriel, and this here''s Liliana. Pleasure to meetcha!"

    "Wonderful!" Geoff motioned for them to follow. "Well, come along then. Me mates and I have a private booth over by the far wall. Let us treat you to a round or two, aye?"

    She gave him her most winning smile, lacing her fingers with Liza''s. "Lead the way."

    <hr>

    It seemed that Geoff wasn''t the only one eager to invite them to their table. By the time they reached the Iron Circle men''s table, Aubrey found several members of the posse leering at her and Liza. Their eyes roved freely, and although the men in suits tried to remain discreet, it was obvious they were ogling their bodies nonetheless.

    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

    One of them even let out a low, appreciative whistle as they approached.

    "Now, now..." Geoff shushed them, a small smirk playing on his lips. "These fine ladies have agreed to sit with us for a little bit of drinking and conversation. Behave yourselves, ya swines!"

    "Aye, and you better do the same! Can''t have you acting all boorish while we try to put on a civilized front, eh?" An elderly man retorted with a laugh, lifting a crystal glass of amber-colored liquid in a mock salute.

    His statement earned raucous guffaws and more cheers from the group. Some of them raised their drinks and clinked their glasses together. Another young, well-dressed man with curly, brown hair patted the seat next to him and smiled invitingly at Liza.

    "Come on and sit yourself down," he drawled in a slow, confident manner.

    Aubrey fought the urge to gag, plastering on a genial smile while she waited for Liza to seat herself. Before she could follow suit, however, Geoff quickly stepped in and gestured for her to take a spot beside the middle-aged man in a navy suit who had caught her attention during her performance.

    "There ya go, love," he murmured in her ear as she slid into the booth. "Nice ''n cozy now, innit? We''ll let this ol'' chap handle introductions. Just make yerself comfortable and enjoy yer time here! Can I get ya anything? Wine? Spirits? Ale?"

    Aubrey blinked and glanced up at the posse''s apparent leader. His chiseled features and intense gaze were accentuated by a faint scar that ran across his cheekbone. When their eyes met, his lips quirked upwards in a brief half-smile that crinkled the corners of his grey eyes.

    "Uh, sure." Aubrey shrugged, resting an arm on the table. "Surprise me. I''m game for anything."

    "Anything, you say?" Geoff chuckled as he grabbed a bottle from an ice bucket. He poured the contents of the glass decanter into a crystal glass, then offered it to Aubrey with an exaggerated flourish. "Have a taste of this fine vintage! Straight from the cellars of the renowned wine merchants, the Flanagan Brothers! They know how to brew and distill some bloody good stuff!"

    Geoff then moved away to attend to Liza. "And for the lady? What would you like? C''mon, don''t be shy! I''ll get ye whatever you fancy, no matter the price."

    "I... uh... Um... I''m good. Thank you." Liza blushed, shrinking in on herself at the attention directed towards her.

    "Now, now, let''s not have any of that nonsense! You''ve gotta let loose a bit and relax. Yer among friends here, love! Just point at something from the menu, and it''s yours. My treat, eh?"

    While Geoff continued to cajole and flatter Liza, Aubrey took a sip of her wine, savoring its rich flavors. It really did taste incredible. The fruity bouquet, the tangy sweetness mixed with hints of spice...

    She exhaled contentedly, licking her lips before looking up at the older gentleman sitting beside her.

    "That''s pretty good stuff..." She glanced at the decanter on the table. "Mind if I have another glass?"

    "Go ahead." The man nodded, reaching over to pour more into her glass. As he poured, his gaze flickered to Aubrey''s face and lingered on her features for a moment. A small frown creased his brow, but quickly disappeared.

    Aubrey raised an eyebrow.

    "Is something wrong?" she asked, tilting her head slightly.

    "Not necessarily," he replied after a pause. A wry smile formed on his thin lips. He set the bottle down and leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. "But I must confess that seeing you now, up close, brings up certain... memories, shall we say?"

    "Memories?" Aubrey questioned, tilting her head. "Oh? Do tell."

    The older man paused to consider his words, tapping his index finger on his arm absently as he pondered. After a beat, he hummed under his breath.

    "Well, you see, I can''t help but wonder... Have we met before?"

    Aubrey grinned and casually took another gulp of her wine. She pretended to mull over the question. "Hm... I don''t think so? Would''ve remembered a handsome gentleman like you."

    "I see," he murmured, stroking his neatly-trimmed beard. "Strange... Your face... It stirs something within my memory, though perhaps it eludes me at present."

    "If we had, I doubt it''s a pleasant memory. I can''t seem to control myself around old men. My impulses tell me to sock a good number of ''em right in the jaw," Aubrey joked with a half-hearted chuckle, putting on a lighthearted facade.

    Her thoughts, however, raced wildly as she tried to guess who this person could have been to her in her other life, given the memories they supposedly shared. Surely he couldn''t be one of those people who had... killed her?

    A vague feeling bubbled in her gut¡ªnot quite alarm, but not quite calm either. Something in this man''s icy, stormy grey eyes made her want to tread carefully.

    The older gentleman didn''t respond to her joke, instead offering only a noncommittal grunt, and taking a sip from his own goblet. However, she noticed his shoulders tense for just a moment, which only made her more apprehensive about him.

    They sat there silently for a time, nursing their respective drinks while the others conversed animatedly amongst themselves. Geoff appeared to have had success getting Liza to join in, albeit her responses seemed to have become shorter and terser as the night wore on. She shot Aubrey pleading glances whenever she could, and her fingers drummed restlessly atop the table, a sure sign that she was becoming impatient.

    "Ah, my apologies," the older gentleman spoke up suddenly, breaking the silence. He extended his left hand for a handshake. "I forgot to introduce myself. I am Percival Berestour. These men that you see here," he gestured to the entire table, "are some of my most trusted lieutenants in the Iron Circle."

    "Huh...?" Aubrey looked around, her expression one of feigned surprise. "These guys? Seriously? Wow... Big wigs, huh? Never would''ve pegged it."

    "Yes, they tend to have that effect on people who aren''t familiar with us," he said, letting out a faint snort that seemed almost affectionate. "But enough about them. I''d like to learn more about you, miss...?"

    "Auriel. Auriel Thorne." She reached out to shake his hand, but his grip froze upon hearing her name. His brows furrowed, as if in confusion, but quickly smoothed away. He released her hand and nodded slowly.

    "Fascinating. A pleasure, Miss Thorne. To tell you the truth, you and your friend... caught my eye during your performance. Not just for your skill, mind you, but also because of how... well, how interesting you both appeared. Tell me, would you happen to be working under anyone right now?" Percival inquired, keeping his eyes fixed on hers as he spoke.

    "Not really. We''re street performers, honestly," Aubrey admitted with a chuckle. "Kind of hard to get gigs when you don''t have any real connections, right?"

    "Hmm, yes. Connections... Everyone needs connections." Percival regarded her for another moment before nodding to himself again. "In that case, Miss Thorne, if you would consider allowing me to provide you with such connections, it would be my pleasure to hire you as an entertainer for our upcoming celebrations at the Iron Circle''s headquarters. Would you and your partner agree to such an arrangement?"

    Geoff, who had apparently been paying attention to their conversation all the while, gave a small whoop.

    "Bloody brilliant!" he crowed, slapping a hand down on Liza''s shoulder. Her slight jolt in response went unnoticed by him. "Looks like you ladies are finally gonna get that big break, eh?"

    Aubrey remained silent for a moment, studying Percival closely, and he held her gaze with an equally intense stare of his own. Then, after a brief pause, she smirked and raised her glass towards him in a mocking toast.

    "Sounds like a fine deal to me... Mister Berestour."

 Chapter 61: Sing for Me...

    The carriage rattled along cobblestones paved onto the road. Every bump and pothole reverberated through its wooden frame. There was hardly any padding on the seats. Sitting on them was like sitting on a flat rock, which made the ride extremely unpleasant.

    Aubrey grumbled and squirmed, adjusting herself yet again as she tried to get comfortable. After a few minutes of fiddling with the cushions and rearranging her limbs, she finally managed to find a halfway bearable position. With a quiet sigh, she leaned back against the rough cloth lining the interior of the carriage and closed her eyes.

    She felt rather than saw Liza''s anxious fidgeting beside her.

    Earlier in the evening, they''d accepted Percival''s offer of employment, and after a round or two of drinks, the duo had decided to follow the posse back to the Berestour mansion. That would have been fine and well, if only the ride itself didn''t feel like it lasted forever.

    Percival sat in the rear-facing seat across from her. She could sense his penetrating stare boring into her from beneath those craggy brows of his. Meanwhile, his lieutenants flanked his sides like bodyguards, making the entire setting feel a bit more tense than it really should have. Geoff sat next to Percival, and opposite him was the curly-haired young man who had also taken an interest in Liza.

    What was his name again? Ah, right... Jared. Jared Nolan.

    Aside from Geoff''s constant chatter, a thick, heavy silence hung over the occupants of the carriage. For most of the trip, no one made so much as a peep, leaving Aubrey alone with nothing but the sound of the wheels trundling over uneven cobblestone.

    After an excruciating period of time that seemed to stretch on for hours, the coach eventually slowed to a crawl, coming to a halt just outside a wrought iron gate. A pair of guards, dressed in identical black uniforms and carrying long rifles, emerged from behind the walls to greet them.

    Geoff leaned out the window and waved.

    "Hey there, fellas! Open ''er up!"

    One guard nodded in acknowledgement before turning around and signaling for the gates to open. Once they parted wide enough, the coachman drove onward, passing through the opening.

    Beyond the walls lay an expansive estate. The mansion at its center towered over everything else within view, lit by rows upon rows of dimly glowing lanterns lining the pathways leading up to it. Gardens and fountains adorned its sides, while a wide expanse of neatly manicured lawn spread outward from the building''s base.

    "It''s quite something, isn''t it?" Percival said softly, drawing Aubrey''s attention back to him.

    She shot him a small smile. "Sure is. Gotta say, you really know how to live it up."

    His returning smile seemed somewhat forced. "Come now, Miss Thorne... ''Living it up'' implies that we''re slacking off. But I can assure you, this grandeur comes at a price. Everything you see here has been built by hard work, ingenuity, and a little bit of luck."

    He paused as the carriage rolled to a stop near the entrance. As he got down from his seat, he extended a gloved hand towards her. Aubrey hesitated, before taking his offered hand and stepping out of the carriage.

    "And where does the luck factor in?" she asked as they strolled down one of the pathways through the gardens. The other men filed out of the carriage after them, following behind at a distance. Liza shuffled along beside Geoff, who walked arm-in-arm with her.

    Percival chuckled dryly. He adjusted his top hat and flashed her a tight-lipped smirk. "One must have good fortune in life in order to succeed. You may call it fate, destiny, or even serendipity, but without luck, all the effort in the world might never yield a worthwhile result. If there''s anything that I''ve learned from my years in business, Miss Thorne, it''s that there are no guarantees in life.

    "No certainty that today will end as smoothly as yesterday or tomorrow may begin as brightly as today. You must be prepared to seize opportunity whenever it presents itself. Like, for instance, stumbling upon a duo of performers whose talent and charm would enhance an upcoming event... That counts as a bit of good fortune, don''t you think?"

    Aubrey looked over at him and gave him a wry grin. "Are you sure you''re just talking about luck here? Because it kinda sounds like you''re boasting about yourself instead of giving me advice."

    At that, he chuckled again, though this time there was genuine warmth behind it. He shook his head slightly. "Perish the thought, Miss Thorne! But yes, perhaps I have indulged in a little self-aggrandizement just now. However, please bear in mind that humility does not come easy for me. As I said earlier... Hard work, ingenuity, luck... Those three things combined have propelled me into this position today. And I promise you, they will do the same for you as well, so long as you have the drive to see them through."

    As they approached the grand entrance, Aubrey and Liza were escorted inside. The interior of the mansion proved even more impressive than the exterior.

    The foyer itself was a spacious chamber, its high ceiling supported by marble pillars, and the floor was carpeted in plush, red fabric. Oil paintings and tapestries adorned the walls, while chandeliers dangled overhead. It all spoke of wealth and opulence¡ªthe type of extravagance that only the elite enjoyed.

    Aubrey let out a low whistle at the sight of it all. "Not half bad," she remarked with a coy wink.

    "I must say, I''ve never been a fan of such... ostentatious displays, but it''s nice to know that our visitors appreciate them once in a while."

    Their banter faded into silence as they continued to walk further inside, leaving the posse behind to mill about.

    Before parting with Liza to accompany Percival in private, Aubrey whispered in her ear, "Remember the plan?"

    "Y... Yeah..." she whispered back, nodding nervously. "I... I remember. Be... Be careful, okay?"

    "Always," Aubrey assured her with a confident grin.

    <hr>

    They sat across from each other in the drawing room of the mansion, which looked more akin to a library. Shelves lined the walls filled with rows upon rows of books. On the side, an ornate fireplace cast dancing shadows on the walls as flames crackled within its stone confines. A large, wooden desk stood between them, topped by an ebony wood slab polished to a shine.

    An elderly butler entered the room and set down two snifters on the mahogany tabletop, then proceeded to fill each one with generous servings of brandy. After serving the drinks, the old man gave a slight bow and discreetly retreated, shutting the door behind him and leaving them alone together.

    "An interesting companion you''ve chosen to keep by your side, Miss Thorne," Percival observed as he reached for his glass. "Not exactly the sort of partner I''d expect to perform alongside a lady of your talents, to be honest. How did you two come to meet?"

    Aubrey shrugged. "The streets. Where else? If you''ve seen one street, then you''ve seen them all."

    "A strange pair, indeed... Yet a rather complementary match at the same time." Percival paused, taking a moment to take a sip from his cup before continuing. "Now tell me, Miss Thorne... why did you really accept my invitation? Don''t tell me it was merely for the money."

    "Who cares what my reasons are?" she replied. "That doesn''t change anything, right?"

    "It matters because I don''t think it''s a coincidence that you''re here tonight. When you agreed to come with us, I had a feeling that there may be more to your decision than just an appreciation for our financial offer."

    He swirled the contents of his glass, peering into its amber depths as if it held an answer to his unasked question.

    Aubrey smirked, but said nothing in response.

    There was a pause as he took another sip. Then he let out a quiet chuckle and set his drink down. "It would appear that we share the same gift for subtlety. Neither of us likes to speak plainly about certain topics, am I correct?"

    "What makes you think I''d wanna talk about my reasons at all? Maybe I just feel like hanging around someplace different than the usual stomping grounds."

    A brief silence hung between them before he let out a low sigh. He picked up his glass once more and lifted it up in a mock salute. "Well played, Miss Thorne. Very well played. You certainly aren''t the type who''d blurt out her thoughts without thinking, or someone so dense as to wear her heart on her sleeve."

    Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

    She gave him a half-shrug. "I dunno, I''m not trying to hide anything, if that''s what you mean."

    "Indeed. You speak with honesty," Percival mused softly, studying her through half-lidded eyes. "I admire that about you. No doubt, that''s what draws people to you. No one can resist an enigma."

    He glanced down at her hands, lingering on the way she twirled the flute between her fingertips.

    "In any case," he resumed, standing up from his chair and walking towards a gramophone player set atop a nearby shelf. After placing a record onto its spinning turntable, he gently placed the stylus against the vinyl disk''s surface.

    A rich, warm tune began playing. Soft, melodic strains wafted throughout the room, creating an ambient backdrop for their conversation.

    Something about the familiar music stirred up memories in her. Something nostalgic... bittersweet.

    Percival approached her, taking off his top hat and running a hand through his copper locks before offering her a bow. "Would you care for a dance, Miss Thorne?"

    Aubrey raised an eyebrow. "Why the sudden interest?"

    He smiled wanly at her. "Just an impulse. It wouldn''t do for us to spend the night merely exchanging words, would it?"

    "An impulse...?" Aubrey''s lips twisted wryly before she chuckled. "Fair enough. Let''s have at it then, Mr. Berestour."

    Standing up from her seat, she allowed him to take hold of her by the waist, guiding her in time to the music. His hands rested lightly against her lower back, keeping her close but not overly so. Not close enough to provoke, yet close enough for intimacy.

    "So, how long have you been performing, Miss Thorne?" he inquired after a few moments, his breath warm against her skin as he led her in a slow waltz.

    "Call me Auriel," she said, her gaze never wavering from his. "As for that question... Let''s just say that I''ve been doing this longer than I care to admit."

    "And why did you choose such an occupation?"

    Her brow furrowed as she considered her response carefully. "It''s the one thing I''m good at. Singing... Music... Making others feel alive... I dunno... it just gives me life, you know? A sense of purpose."

    He nodded, seemingly pleased by her answer. "I understand completely. It''s the same for me when it comes to my work. There is nothing more fulfilling than creating something that improves upon the world."

    His expression darkened slightly. "Of course, not everyone appreciates these contributions. Some call them unnecessary. A waste of time and resources. Others even accuse me of engaging in illicit practices or employing questionable methods... Yet here we stand, sharing a moment together over a simple tune and drink. Does that not prove my critics wrong?"

    Their waltz took them around the drawing room, passing the rows of shelves and tables. Percival spun her around and dipped her low, almost touching the floor. She held onto his shoulders, and her eyes locked with his as he brought her back up in another twirl. They continued moving, bodies moving in tandem with the music, while their eyes remained locked, as if challenging each other to turn away first.

    "It proves nothing," Aubrey retorted, tilting her chin up at him. "We''re here, dancing, talking... This isn''t proof of anything. It''s just a momentary diversion."

    He quirked an eyebrow, looking somewhat amused.

    "Ah, there''s that tongue of yours again." He spun her around once more, leading her in a series of twirls and turns. "Very well... If words aren''t enough, then perhaps actions will suffice instead?"

    His grip tightened on her wrist, pulling her closer. He leaned down, his face close enough for her to feel his breath brush across her cheek. "A little demonstration of my ''proof,'' as it were..."

    Aubrey jerked her arm free from his grasp and placed a palm on his chest, keeping him at bay. She flashed him a coy smirk. "Now, now, no need to get all grabby here. I prefer taking things nice and slow... easing into them at my own pace, y''know? Just like music... You can''t force art to happen. Art creates itself."

    "A fair point, Miss Thorne." He inclined his head in acknowledgment. "Apologies if I seemed overeager. But as they say, carpe diem. Seize the day... After all, not all of us have the chance to do so twice."

    Her brow furrowed, her mind mulling over the implications of those words.

    Did he know who she actually was?

    No. Not possible. Calm down, girl. It could have just been a figure of speech...

    "Whoa, aren''t you a bit of a hopeless romantic there," she remarked sarcastically, trying to shake off her mounting paranoia. "What''s gotten into you all of a sudden?"

    "Perhaps I''m tired of waiting," he murmured, drawing even closer still. His body pressed against hers, his chest flush against her torso. Their faces mere centimeters apart. "Or perhaps I simply don''t want to miss out on such a golden opportunity. To savor every precious second of life..."

    The gramophone skipped, and the song they danced to suddenly changed. A soft, soothing melody filled the air instead. A woman''s voice crooned sweetly in the background, accompanied by violins and other stringed instruments.

    No... Not just any woman''s voice. It was the sound of her own singing¡ªher voice as Aubrey Sinclair.

    Her old voice.

    Percival continued to lead their dance while staring into her eyes.

    "Familiar, isn''t it?" he whispered as they twirled. "Yet different somehow... Though it shares similarities with your performance from earlier today... The timbre and tone... Its soul, even... All seem distinct from your current voice."

    He pulled her along, his hands on her waist as they continued to sway.

    "But somehow, despite this difference, I still feel drawn to it... Drawn to you. As if you were singing to me. Speaking to me. Beckoning to me. Like a flame calling out to a moth, tempting it closer and closer until it burns itself away..."

    His grip tightened.

    A shudder ran down Aubrey''s back, her gut lurching at his cryptic words. This wasn''t just a coincidence anymore. He knew exactly who she was and what happened to her. Somehow, he''d pieced everything together already. There''s no doubt about that now.

    "I don''t know what you''re talking about," she said flatly, keeping her tone neutral. "I''m just your everyday street performer."

    "Come now," he chided gently. "There''s no use pretending otherwise. You can''t deny that something has changed between us. That we share a connection. Something deep and primal... An understanding of sorts."

    He leaned forward again, bringing his mouth to her ear.

    "I will forever be your prisoner," he whispered. "Trapped within your hold... Helpless to resist your allure... Unable to escape from your spell..." His lips brushed against hers, almost touching. "And I wouldn''t have it any other way. All I ask for is the pleasure of your voice. So, sing. Sing for me... my lovely nightingale."

    Aubrey''s eyes widened, and a wave of memories suddenly flooded her mind.

    <blockquote>

    The gravekeeper hesitated for a moment, licking his lips nervously before replying. "I-I did bury you, but... there was a man. Paid a good sum to have you interred properly. Said he was a patron of yours, though he never mentioned his name or address. Said he couldn''t stand seeing you left abandoned on the streets for dogs or monsters to feed upon."

    "Did he say anything else? Give a name?" Aubrey pressed, leaning forward eagerly.

    The gravekeeper shook his head. "Just that he owed you, for the music and the joy you brought him. Seemed a decent sort, if a bit... eccentric. Kept calling you... um..."

    "Yes, go on?" Aubrey prompted, impatiently.

    "His¡ªhis lovely Nightingale..."

    </blockquote>

    Percival held her tightly as the music played on.

    "Y¡ªYou," she stammered, stepping back unsteadily. "You''re the one who had me buried?"

    The light seemed to shift around her, blurring everything around the edges of her vision. She could only focus on Percival''s face now, on the dark shadows that clouded his features in the flickering candlelight. On his soft, dark eyes. The ones that peered at her own with such intensity.

    "It was the least I could do after you gave me so much," he said softly. "No one deserves to end up like that. But my faith in your resilience has proven well-founded, for here you stand today, still beautiful as ever."

    He smiled, brushing a stray strand of hair out of her face.

    "It pains me to see that your memories of our time together have been lost, but it doesn''t matter. Fate has brought you back to me again¡ªno, back to the world. And this time, I intend to fulfill my promise to you."

    Aubrey shook her head, taking another step backward. She lifted a hand to her temple, trying to ward off the dizziness that threatened to overtake her.

    "Promise?" she asked. "What... What do you mean?"

    Percival moved towards her once more, closing the distance between them. He lifted a finger and gently placed it under her chin, tilting her head upward until their gazes met again.

    "The promise to fulfill your transcendence. To help you ascend to where you rightfully belong. They may have stopped you that night. That vile group of persons took you from us. But their efforts were for naught, for not even death itself could stop the ascension. A new dawn approaches, and the greatest stage in this world awaits you..."

    His other arm wrapped itself around her waist as he pulled her body towards him once more. "Your voice is the catalyst of change, the harbinger of upheaval. With your song, you bestow exaltation to those worthy of it. Just like how you elevated me with your blessing so long ago."

    "Exa...?" Aubrey whispered, still unable to comprehend what he was saying. Nothing made sense right now. Everything felt hazy and surreal, like some sort of lucid dream.

    Percival smiled at her confusion. He lifted her wrist to his mouth, pressing his lips against its underside. "They won''t be able to stop you this time. I won''t allow them to. I''ll see to it that you reach your full potential and seize the power that has been denied to you. All of it shall be yours for the taking. Nothing will be out of your grasp ever again. No walls shall remain to hinder you. No limitations shall bind you. The entire world will submit under your rule. Your dominion. Your glory..."

    He kissed her wrist again, his lips lingering against her skin. A small pinprick followed as his teeth nipped against her flesh. Sharp and pointed.

    Her breath caught in her throat. As the fangs pierced her, her blood felt aflame.

    The music continued to play and its rhythm seeped into her, guiding her own heartbeat in tandem to its rising tempo.

    "...and all of this, and everything else you desire, shall be made manifest within your name..." He kissed her palm, murmuring against her trembling fingers. "...my lovely nightingale, our Sovereign Incantatrix."

    <hr>

    Book One End