The mine was a sprawling web of darkness, a labyrinth carved deep into the earth. Dust hung in the air, thick with the metallic tang of iron. Flickering torches cast trembling shadows along jagged walls, shadows that seemed almost alive. The deeper they went, the heavier the silence pressed down, as if the rock itself were watching.
Pickaxes struck the walls in a steady rhythm. A man paused for a moment, pressing a hand to the cool stone. Sweat clung to his dark hair, streaking his pale face, and his hands were raw from hours of labor. His eyes, though tired, still glimmered with a stubborn spark.
"Hey," a voice called from ahead, carrying through the passage. "Rei, you even alive down there?"
Rei looked up to see the taller figure moving toward him, swinging a pickaxe lazily now that the work was nearly done. His short-cropped hair stuck to his forehead, dust streaking the sun-darkened skin of his face. A faint scar ran along his jaw, and his dark eyes shone with a calm, steady patience despite exhaustion.
"You're not looking too beat up, Callan." Rei muttered, brushing sweat from his brow.
Callan shrugged. "Lucky me. Can't say the same about you, though. You look like the walls themselves tried to swallow you whole."
Rei's jaw tightened. "Feels like they almost did. And for what? A handful of coins that barely cover the week. They send us down here to bleed, and for what? This money—this tiny scrap—is nothing compared to the work we do!"
Callan exhaled, leaning on his pickaxe. "Yeah, well… it is what it is. We work, we get paid. That's the deal."
Rei's fists clenched, voice sharp. "It's not a deal! It's exploitation! The Covenant profits from every drop of sweat, every cut, every aching muscle, and we get… this? This is wrong. It's not fair!"
Callan patted his shoulder, gentle but firm. "Easy there. Don't let anyone hear you talk like that. Not out loud. You know how dangerous it is."
Rei shook off the hand, anger still burning. "Dangerous? Good! They deserve to hear someone curse them for what they've done! For what they keep doing to people like us!"
Callan let out a soft, humorless laugh. "I get it, really. I do. But being alive another day means keeping your mouth shut sometimes. We can scream in the dark later."
A shout rang from deeper in the mine. "All right, tools down! Shift's over!"
The sound made both of them straighten. Callan tossed his pickaxe aside and stretched, the dim torchlight glinting along his broad shoulders. "Finally," he muttered. "Thought I'd never see the end of today."
Rei followed, muscles aching, hands slick with sweat, still simmering. As they walked, a thought nagged at him, curling through his mind like smoke. Tomorrow… what if they pick someone we know? What if— He shook his head, trying to push it away.
Callan noticed, glancing at him with a raised eyebrow. "You're thinking something again. Don't tell me it's about the Culling?"
Rei forced a tight smile. "Just ignore it. Not worth worrying about."
Callan gave a slow nod, his expression darkening slightly. "Maybe it is the Culling," he said softly, almost to himself.
"District 6 feels almost… normal, out here," Rei said instead, inhaling the cooler air.
"Yeah," Callan replied, clapping him on the shoulder. "Normal. Until tomorrow. Until the Culling."
They stepped out of the mine and into the gray streets of District 6, their home. Dust-streaked, exhausted, but alive—for now.
Rei walked side by side with Callan, his footsteps heavy as they made their way home. The weight of the pickaxe, still slung over his shoulder, felt like an anchor. A reminder of what awaited him tomorrow. The Culling was always an event, but this year felt different. The air was thick with anticipation, as if everyone knew something was coming. Something worse than usual.
As they neared their district's entrance, the sharp, metallic sound of a bell rang through the streets, echoing off the walls of the narrow alleyways. The bell marked the approach of the evening hour, but it also served as a reminder of the day ahead. The day the names would be called.
The Culling. A day when they would all gather to watch as the chosen one would be taken away. It was a tradition, a ritual that had been carried out for as long as anyone could remember. But what would happen tomorrow was anyone's guess.
The bell's reverberations seemed to linger in the air, heavier than usual, filling Rei's chest with a kind of cold dread. As they turned a corner, the sight of a crowd gathered up ahead caught his attention. The streets grew quieter, the energy shifting as the sounds of conversation came to an abrupt halt. Rei and Callan exchanged a quick glance before instinctively slowing their pace.
Then, as they turned a corner, they were met with a sudden noise. A crowd had gathered just ahead. Rei froze, instinctively moving to hide in the shadows, but Callan was already moving forward, craning his neck to see. Rei followed, reluctantly.
At the center of the crowd, there was a man his hands shackled in front of him, kneeling in the dirt. The crowd was murmuring, eyes darting nervously toward the stage that had been set up in the open square. The air felt thick with tension, heavy like a storm was about to break.
Standing tall, at the front of the crowd, was a priest his hands raised, his voice booming through the hush. "The balance must be maintained," he declared, the weight of his words carrying over the gathered crowd. "The law is sacred, and to disturb it is to forfeit one's life."
Rei stiffened, eyes narrowing at the priest. Something about his voice, cold, calculated, sent a chill crawling down his spine.
"The Silent Executioners," the priest continued, his gaze sweeping across the crowd. "They are the hand of judgment. And they will ensure the scales are balanced."
Rei's heart skipped a beat as his eyes fell on the executioner. Unlike the normal Holy Guardians who served as law enforcers in the district, this man was something different, something far darker. He stood off to the side, waiting. His presence was almost otherworldly. The crowd parted, and the figure moved forward.
The Silent Executioner was enormous, his black mask completely featureless, his wide, dark cloak flowing with each step. His stance was unnaturally still, as though he was more a machine than a man. In his hands, he held a long, cruel axe, a blade so sharp and gleaming it seemed to hum with a life of its own. The executioner stood, silent as a grave, awaiting the priest's command.
The priest nodded once, and in that single motion, the tension in the air thickened. "The law has been broken. Let the punishment fit the crime."
Without another word, the executioner moved toward the kneeling man, who had been accused of theft. Rei's breath caught in his throat, but he couldn't look away. The man, terrified and shaking, stared up at the looming figure, his eyes wide with horror.
The Silent Executioner raised his axe. The crowd held its breath.
The axe came down in a flash of silver, striking with brutal precision.
The man's scream was short, barely a sound before it was swallowed by the heavy thud of the axe meeting its mark. Both his hands—was severed at the wrist, and it fell to the dirt with a sickening sound.
The Silent Executioner stood, his gaze unblinking, as if this were nothing more than a simple task.
The crowd recoiled, murmurs rippling through them as the man collapsed in agony, the stump of his arms bleeding onto the earth.
The priest spoke again, his voice flat. "The balance is restored."
The Silent Executioner made no move to acknowledge the priest. With a deliberate step, he turned, lifting the severed hands from the ground as if it were nothing more than an object, and tossed it into the nearby flames. The crowd watched in tense silence as the flames devoured the hands, the air thick with the scent of burnt flesh.
Rei's stomach churned. He stood frozen, his mind racing. His eyes were locked on the severed hand, still twitching slightly as it burned. The flames danced, consuming everything in their wake.
Callan's voice was low beside him. "This is the law. It's always have been. You break the commandments, you pay the price."
Rei didn't respond. His gaze never left the flames. The Silent Executioner had done his duty—delivering judgment without hesitation, without mercy.
The crowd dispersed quickly, murmuring under their breath, but Rei couldn't move. His thoughts were a jumble of fear, dread, and confusion. Could it really be that simple? That quick?
The Silent Executioner stood as the priest gave one last command, and the man—still writhing in agony—was dragged away by two of the Guardians. The executioner remained in place, silent, his black mask reflecting the flickering light of the flames.
They continued their walk home in silence, the oppressive weight of the moment hanging heavily between them. The world around them had become numb to cruelty like this. But for Rei, it was another stark reminder of the price of survival in a world governed by the Covenant.
As they reached the small, cramped home where Rei lived with his sister, the sense of foreboding didn't lift. The humble dwelling smelled of the fire that had long since burned out, and the faint sound of Mira's voice carried from inside.
Rei pushed the door open slowly, the creak of the wood loud in the quiet night.Her sister was inside, bustling about with a sense of purpose, setting the table for dinner. She looked up with a bright smile as they entered.
"Good evening!" she chirped, her eyes lighting up at the sight of them. "Dinner's ready. I made enough for everyone."
Rei's gaze lingered for a moment, noticing the careful way she arranged the bowls, the way her slender hands moved with both purpose and care. She carried the weight of the day quietly, yet there was an underlying strength in her posture, in the way she kept moving even when everything around them felt heavy. There was something grounding in the way she managed the small home, a quiet rhythm that reminded him of normalcy, however fragile.
And his stomach instantly growled at the sight of the food. It had been days since they had anything resembling a proper meal. His gaze lingered on the small portion of bread and a thin stew. He forced a smile, trying to keep the worry off his face. But as he looked at Mira, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.
"Mira," he began, his voice steady but tinged with uncertainty, "Where did you get this food?"
Mira froze for a moment, her eyes flickering to the food, then quickly shifting away. Her smile faltered, but only for a brief second, before she recovered, her face brightening again. "Oh, you know... here and there" she said airily, trying to change the subject. "There's always something we can bring back. Now, sit down, let's eat!"
Rei wanted to press her further, to ask why her words didn't sit right, but before he could, Callan broke the silence, sensing the tension that hung between them. "I should head out soon. The Culling is tomorrow... don't want to risk being late."
He stood up, dusting himself off, and Rei watched him move toward the door. The old wood creaked as Rei opened it, the cool evening air slipping in.
Mira, noticing Callan's departure, hurried over. "Callan, wait! There's still some food left, you haven't eaten much yet," she said, her tone warm and inviting, though tinged with a hint of concern.
Callan waved her off with a chuckle, shaking his head. "I'm still full, Mira. Don't worry about me." He gave a reassuring smile, though his eyes seemed distant, as if already focused on tomorrow's uncertainty.
Callan paused in the doorway, offering a half-hearted smile to both of them. "Good luck tomorrow. May the odds be with us," he said, his voice laced with a mixture of hope and resignation.
Rei returned the gesture, though his heart wasn't in it. "Yeah... take care," he murmured, his words carrying the weight of the uncertainty that lingered in the air.
As Callan stepped outside and disappeared into the dimming streets, Rei closed the door with a soft click, the sound echoing in the quiet of their home. For a moment, he stood there, hand resting on the doorframe, lost in his thoughts. Then, with a slow exhale, he turned away, the knot in his chest tightening with each step he took back inside.
Rei sat down at the small table, his thoughts swirling. The Culling. Tomorrow. The weight of it seemed heavier than ever.
As the siblings ate, Rei's mind wandered back to the unsettling events of the day. The images of the Holy Guardians executing the thief, the severed hands, and the tense air around the Culling—all swirling together in a knot of dread. His stomach churned, but he forced the food down. He couldn't afford to let fear take over, not now, not when tomorrow loomed so large.
He glanced at Mira as she ate, trying to ignore the strange tension in her eyes. She was always so bright, always trying to make things feel normal, even when everything around them was falling apart. But there was something in her that seemed different today. A weight she wasn't showing.
"Hey, Mira," Rei started, trying to sound casual, but his voice betrayed him. "Are you... alright?"
Mira froze for a moment, her spoon pausing midway to her mouth. She looked up at him, her expression carefully neutral. "I'm fine, Rei. Don't worry about me."
The words came too quickly, too practiced. Rei's instincts screamed that something was off, but he didn't push her further. There was no point in making things harder for her, not when they both knew what tomorrow could bring.
The silence stretched between them, the tension thick enough to cut. Rei thought about the future, about what would happen if one of them were picked. Would it be him? Would it be Mira? The thought was terrifying, but he forced the worry aside. He had no reason to suspect her—did he?
She hadn't been acting like herself, but that was probably just the fear talking. Or maybe it was just the weight of the upcoming Culling. They were all living in the shadow of it now.
"Rei," Mira said suddenly, her voice quiet. "No matter what happens tomorrow... I'm glad we're together, alright?"
Rei nodded, swallowing hard. "Yeah, me too," he whispered, though a nagging doubt lingered in his chest. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was going to change for him, something he wasn't ready for. Something he didn't understand.
They finished their meal in silence, the sound of their spoons scraping against the empty bowls the only noise. Outside, the darkened streets stretched out in every direction, silent and oppressive. Tomorrow, the Culling would take place, and the lives of everyone in District 6 who would lost their lives forever.
𝘊𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 Day
The bells tolled early that morning, their deep, resonant chimes reverberating through the narrow streets of District 6, signaling the beginning of the Culling Day. The sound was sharp, unsettling, cutting through the quiet of the dawn like a warning. Rei's eyes fluttered open to the dim light filtering through the cracks in the wall. His bed was cold, the rough fabric of his blanket clinging to his skin in the way only a threadbare blanket could.
A strange, uncomfortable heaviness settled on his chest as he sat up, his gaze drifting to the small window where the sun had barely begun to rise. The world outside was still, the air thick with the scent of wet stone and distant smoke from the slums. Yet, beneath it all, something was different today. The stillness felt oppressive, as though the world itself was holding its breath.
Rei rubbed his face, trying to shake the remnants of the nightmare that had clung to him through the night. Images of the executioner—silent and looming—flashed behind his eyes, the severed hand burning in the flames. He could still hear the hollow thud of the axe, feel the chill of the air thick with tension. The nightmare was all too real, too close to what he knew awaited.
The sound of footsteps outside interrupted his thoughts. Mira's voice, bright as ever, filtered through the walls. "Rei! Come on, the Culling's today. You don't want to miss breakfast."
Breakfast. Rei's stomach twisted at the thought. He didn't want to eat. Didn't want to pretend everything was normal, like the day wasn't a heavy weight bearing down on them all. But he knew Mira would be waiting, so he forced himself out of bed, wincing as his bare feet touched the cold stone floor. His legs felt unsteady, as though they hadn't quite adjusted to the idea of moving today.
He dressed quickly, his fingers fumbling with the buttons on his worn tunic. The thought of his name being called echoed in his mind—each beat of his heart matching the pulse of that looming dread. He couldn't shake it. Couldn't ignore the possibility that today might be his day. He could almost hear the priests' voices, the cheers of the crowd, the dull thud of the pickaxe in the mine as the names were called.
His reflection in the cracked mirror was as grim as he felt. His hair—unruly and damp with sweat—fell around his face like a dark curtain. His eyes were tired, haunted, the light in them dimmed by the weight of the world. He ran his hands through his hair, trying to steady himself. He couldn't afford to dwell on it. He couldn't afford to break. Not yet.
The low murmur of conversation drifted in from the other room. Mira, as always, was trying to make the best of things, the sense of urgency in her voice tinged with something softer, more vulnerable. She knew what today meant, but she wasn't letting it show. Not yet. Not until they were forced to face it.
Rei walked into the kitchen, where the small fire in the hearth crackled, its warmth a bitter contrast to the chill settling in his bones. Mira smiled brightly when she saw him, her hands busy with a pot of thin stew.
"Good morning!" she greeted him cheerfully, her eyes lighting up despite the tension hanging thick in the air. "I made some breakfast. Just enough for the two of us."
Rei nodded mutely, taking a seat at the small table. His stomach churned again, but he couldn't bring himself to turn the food down. He took the bowl of stew from Mira, lifting the spoon to his lips, but the taste was nothing more than a blur in his mouth.
"You nervous?" Mira asked after a beat, her voice softer now, as though she was trying to read him, trying to get a sense of what was going on in his mind.
Rei paused, staring into his bowl. "Yeah," he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know why, but... it feels different this year."
Mira set down her own bowl of stew, sitting across from him. "The Culling? It always feels like this, Rei. It's just the way things are. People get picked every year." Her voice was almost too calm, as though she were trying to convince herself more than him.
Rei didn't respond. He knew the routine. The process. How every district, every year, they gathered, their names were called, and a chosen few were taken away to the Holy City. The chosen ones—those who had been voted the "most sinful"—would never return. And though it was a tradition that had long been accepted, it didn't make it any easier. It didn't make the fear of being picked any less terrifying.
Before he could speak again, there was a soft knock at the door. Mira stood up quickly, walking over to the small entrance with a sense of urgency. Rei's stomach clenched. It was Callan. He was always early, always ready to face the day with the same bravado he put on for everyone else.
Mira opened the door to reveal their friend, Callan, standing in the doorway with a grim smile. His face, usually so carefree, was taut with unease. His eyes flickered over to Rei, then to Mira, his gaze darkened by the weight of the day.
"Morning," Callan said, his voice quieter than usual. "How's the breakfast? You two ready for the Culling?"
Mira smiled back, though her eyes were tinged with worry. "It's ready, just in time. Come in, we've got some stew left."
Callan stepped inside, and as he sat down at the table, his eyes met Rei's. There was a long pause before he spoke again. "You think we'll be picked?"
Rei stared at him for a long moment. He wanted to say no. To tell Callan that they were safe, that they always had been. But deep down, he knew better. The Culling wasn't just a random event. It was a selection. A ritual that adhered to no logic. Anyone could be chosen. Anyone could disappear without a trace.
"I don't know," Rei said, his voice distant. "I just have this feeling… that something's different."
The conversation died out as the sound of the bells grew louder outside. Their deep, ominous tone shook the house and their bones. Mira took a deep breath and placed her hands in her lap, trying to look brave, though her fingers trembled ever so slightly.
Rei finished his meal in silence. Each bite felt like it could be his last, but the hunger gnawed at him until he forced himself to swallow. The air felt thick, heavy with the weight of their thoughts.
After a long while, the three of them stood, moving toward the door. The streets outside were already gathering people, their faces anxious, fearful. Some were hopeful, their eyes wide with hope that they wouldn't be the ones chosen. Others were resigned, their faces drawn with the knowledge that they had little control over their fate.
Rei stepped out into the street, the cold morning air biting at his skin. The square was crowded with people. Everyone gathered in the center, the sacred space marked by a raised platform where the priest would make his proclamations. Guards lined the edges of the crowd, their eyes scanning the people, ensuring everyone remained in line.
As Rei and Callan walked through the crowd, the sense of dread seemed to deepen. It was as if everyone felt the weight of the day pressing down on them, urging them to stay quiet, to accept their place in this grim tradition.
The priest stood at the center of the platform, his robe flowing in the wind as he raised his arms to address the crowd. The murmurs of the people fell silent as his voice echoed out across the square.
"Brothers and sisters of District 6," the priest began, his tone booming, reverberating off the stone walls of the square, "Today, we come together to cleanse our city, to restore balance. Through the sacred ritual of the Culling, the law will be upheld."
Rei swallowed hard, his heart thudding in his chest. His eyes flickered around the crowd. Each face was a mix of fear and acceptance, as though they were all waiting for something they couldn't stop. He had to push the thought from his mind. He had to stay focused. Today would be the day everything changed.
"The sinners," the priest continued, "Will be revealed. Their names will be called, and the balance will be restored." He paused, as though savoring the moment. "And so, the offering begins."
The list had been read, each name followed by murmurs and gasps, but Rei's name had yet to come. The others—Jenna Windward, daughter of Marlon and Vera Windward, caught for spreading dissent against the Covenant; Toren Blackwell, son of Gideon and Elara Blackwell, who had stolen food meant for the poor; and Baron Galehart, son of Bastian and Selene Galehart, found guilty of bearing false witness against a fellow citizen—had already been called. Each sin weighed heavy in the eyes of the masses, each one breaking one of the Ten Commandments.
Jenna Windward had broken the commandment "Thou shalt not bear false witness." Her whispers against the Covenant, accusing the priests of corruption, had led to her downfall. Toren Blackwell had stolen, violating "Thou shalt not steal," taking food meant for others. Baron Galehart had broken the commandment "Thou shalt not bear false witness," spreading rumors and lies that tore apart the fragile trust among the people. They had all sinned, each one unmistakable, but still, Rei remained silent.
Rei's heart raced in his chest as the priest's voice echoed through the square. "Rei Aranoth, son of Johtra and Arina Aranoth."
The crowd was silent, then whispers spread like wildfire. Rei's name had been called. Rei stepped forward, his legs unsteady, as if weighed down by the gravity of his actions. He had never imagined this moment would come. Standing on the stage, he felt the eyes of the crowd, all judging him, all awaiting the revelation of his sin.
He had broken the commandment "Thou shalt not kill." The accusations against him were loud and clear—Rei had killed a man during a riot at the canteen. It had been an accident, a moment of panic when the food had run out and the mob surged. But to the priests, it was murder. His heart pounded in his ears as the priest's eyes lingered on him, and the whispers around him grew louder.
Next, the priest's voice boomed as he called Mira's name.
"Mira Aranoth, daughter of Johtra and Arina Aranoth."
Rei's breath caught in his throat as his sister walked to the stage, her eyes wide with fear. Her face was pale, her hands trembling, but she stood tall beside him. She hadn't done anything wrong, not in the way the others had, not like the sins on the list, but something about this moment felt wrong.
Rei's eyes locked onto Mira's. "Why? Why are you here?" His voice was barely a whisper, his heart aching. He couldn't fathom why she was being chosen when she hadn't done anything so terrible.
Mira's gaze fell to the ground. "I didn't want this, Rei. I never did. But I... I stole the food."
Rei's head snapped up, confusion clouding his thoughts. "Stole? From where? When?"
Mira's hands shook as she looked at him. "Last night, when we were out of food. I took it from the priests storage. It wasn't right, but I was desperate... and I thought... I thought it would be okay. I never meant for anyone to get hurt. But I broke the commandment 'Thou shalt not steal.'"
Rei's heart dropped as the truth settled in. It was too late to take it back. It was too late for her. She had broken the law, too, even if it wasn't with the intent to hurt anyone. She had done what she thought was necessary to survive, but in the eyes of the Covenant, it was a sin. The crowd around them shifted uneasily, but no one spoke up. No one dared.
The priest, standing at the front of the stage, raised his hands high, his voice booming in the silence. "In the sight of the Almighty, we stand here today. These sinners have broken the sacred laws set before us, the commandments of the Almighty. They have transgressed, each and every one of them. It is by His will that one will bear the weight of their sin."
The priest turned his gaze toward Mira, his voice ringing with finality. "Mira, daughter of Johtra and Arina, you stand before us for your sin of theft. You have broken the commandment: 'Thou shalt not steal.' You are guilty, and by the will of the Almighty, you are to atone for your actions."
A hush settled over the crowd. Some whispered, eyes darting between Mira and the priest. A few smirked, entertained by the spectacle. Others looked away, their silence heavy with guilt. An older woman clutched her shawl, turning her back, while a man at the front muttered, "Justice must be done."
Rei's world shattered. His breath hitched, his vision blurred. Mira—his Mira—was being chosen. The priest's words dug into his chest like iron hooks, tearing him apart.
Mira's body locked in place, but only for a second. Then she stumbled backward, her lips parting in a silent gasp. Her legs gave out beneath her, and she collapsed to her knees, her breath coming in quick, uneven gasps.
"No…" she whispered, her voice trembling. "No, no, please…" Her fingers clawed at the dirt as if trying to hold onto something, anything.
The guardians stepped forward.
Rei moved before he could think. "No, please!" His voice cracked with desperation. "It should be me! I am the one who killed, not her. I should pay!"
The priest's head tilted slightly, his expression unreadable. He remained silent, letting the moment stretch unbearably long. The crowd murmured again, some intrigued, others shifting uncomfortably.
Rei's chest tightened. He had to make them listen. "I have killed," he continued, voice shaking. "I took a life. Not her. She stole because we had nothing left, but I—" His breath hitched. "I deserve this. Take me instead. Please."
The priest exhaled, as if pondering. Then, with slow, deliberate steps, he descended from the podium, walking toward Rei. The air grew thick, suffocating.
"It is not for you to choose the offering," the priest said, voice smooth, almost amused. "It is the will of the Almighty."
Rei clenched his fists. "But I am guilty—"
The priest lifted a hand, silencing him. "And yet, the people have chosen."
The guardians seized Mira's arms.
The moment their hands touched her, she screamed. It was raw, guttural, a sound of pure, unfiltered terror. She thrashed violently, twisting in their grip. "No! Rei, no! Don't let them take me—please!"
She fought, her nails scratching against their armor. Tears streamed down her face. Her wails echoed through the square, a desperate plea for salvation that no one answered.
Rei's breath came in sharp gasps. He couldn't let this happen.
"I will take her place!" His voice was a thunderclap against the tense silence.
The priest paused mid-step, turning slowly.
Rei swallowed hard. "Please," he begged. "I broke the commandment: 'Thou shalt not kill.' Let me atone for my sin. Take me instead."
The priest studied him, his lips curling slightly. "What is this, Rei Aranoth? You question the will of the Covenant?"
"I insist," Rei said, stepping forward, forcing himself to meet the priest's gaze.
The square fell deathly silent. Even Mira stopped struggling, her breath ragged, her eyes wide with horror.
The priest let the silence stretch, drawing out the moment, savoring it. Then, at last, he spoke.
"You would sacrifice yourself for this thief?" His tone was cold, but there was something else beneath it—something twisted, intrigued.
Rei nodded. "I will. I've done worse. I deserve it."
The priest hummed, stepping closer. He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice so only Rei could hear. "Do you think your suffering will mean anything? That your death will cleanse your sins? Or hers?"
Rei's jaw tightened. He wasn't sure. Maybe it didn't matter. "I understand what I'm doing," he said quietly.
The priest let the words hang, then finally straightened. A slow smile crept onto his face.
"So be it."
Rei's breath hitched.
"The gods have spoken," the priest declared, his voice carrying through the square. "Rei Aranoth shall be the offering."
The words fell like a hammer blow.
Mira's body sagged as though the air had been stolen from her lungs. "No," she whimpered, shaking her head violently. "No, no, no—Rei, don't do this!"
But the guardians released her. She crumpled to the ground, sobbing uncontrollably.
Rei turned toward her, his heart aching. He took a slow step back, locking eyes with her, trying to memorize every detail—her tear-streaked face, the way her lips quivered, the pure, unfiltered grief in her eyes. He burned it into his mind, knowing it would be the last time.
Mira suddenly moved. She lurched forward, reaching for him. "Rei!"
She tried to run, but her legs gave out beneath her, and she collapsed onto the cold ground. Her fingers scraped against the dirt as she dragged herself forward, her body shaking. "Please, don't leave me," she sobbed. "I can't—"
Rei knelt, gently prying her hands from his clothes. His own hands trembled, but he forced a smile.
"Don't blame yourself," he whispered. "I'll be okay."
The guardians moved forward, gripping his arms. He didn't resist as they led him away.
The crowd parted, watching in silence. A few sneered, satisfied with the outcome. Others murmured, uneasy. The older woman in the shawl turned away entirely, unable to watch.
As Rei was pulled from the square, Mira's sobs turned to screams.
She clawed at the ground, trying to rise, but her body refused her. "Rei!" she wailed, her voice breaking. "Rei, please!"
But he didn't look back.
If he did, he might not have been able to keep walking.
Rei was escorted by the Guardians, their heavy boots echoing through the narrow streets as they led him away from the offering ceremony. The crowd's whispers and cries grew distant, drowned by the pounding of his heart. His eyes were fixed on the imposing structure ahead—the Priests' Keep, the heart of power within the district.
The Guardians pushed open the heavy wooden doors, revealing the cold, dimly lit interior. As they entered, the air grew thick with the scent of incense and something older—an ancient presence that seemed to hang in the very stone walls. The light of flickering candles cast long, twisted shadows that moved as though alive, wrapping themselves around Rei like a shroud.
He was brought deeper into the keep, each step guided by the silent, watchful Guardians. At the center of the vast, echoing hall, they stopped, and one of them pushed open another door. Beyond it, the place was even darker, the silence more suffocating. Rei stood at the threshold, feeling the weight of what was to come. The doors behind him slammed shut with a resounding finality, and he knew, with cold certainty, that there would be no turning back now.
Rei's hands trembled as the guards dragged him into the cold, dimly lit chamber. The heavy door creaked shut behind him with a hollow thud, trapping him in the silence. Father Josiah stood near a massive wooden desk, his robes flowing like shadows in the room. His presence was commanding—he wasn't just a priest, but the High Priest who governed all of District 6.
Rei's heart pounded in his chest. His head was spinning from everything that had happened: the accusation, the offering ceremony, his own name being called. The walls felt like they were closing in around him.
Father Josiah turned to face him, his piercing gaze never leaving Rei's eyes. "Rei Aranoth," he said, his voice dripping with authority. "You've been chosen to serve. You'll be offered to the Covenant as part of its holy ritual, and in doing so, you will become a vessel for its will."
Rei swallowed hard, trying to form words, but the weight of the priest's gaze made it impossible to speak.
Josiah stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. "The Covenant is a divine institution. It governs this world, and through it, the Covenant has chosen you. You will be reborn into its service. All who are chosen are broken and remade. You will serve the holy purpose of this land."
Rei couldn't bear it anymore. "Please…" he whispered, his voice shaking. "I don't understand… What is happening?"
Father Josiah gave a small, almost imperceptible smile, but there was no warmth in it. "Understand? It's too late for understanding. Tomorrow, you will be made into what you must be. And the people of this district—of all the districts—will know that you are a part of the Covenant's holy work."
Rei's throat tightened. The priest's words hung in the air, like a sentence he could never escape from.
Josiah turned toward the door, then paused. "Rest now. Tomorrow is the day that will decide your fate."
As he moved past Rei, the priest's robes swirled, and that's when Rei saw it. A faint emblem, partly hidden beneath the folds of Josiah's robes—two overlapping circles, with a pair of sharp lines cutting through them, almost like eyes. Rei's heart skipped a beat at the sight of it, a chill creeping up his spine. He didn't recognize the symbol, but there was something unnerving about it.
The emblem seemed to hold a significance Rei couldn't place, and he wondered why someone like Father Josiah would wear it, but he quickly dismissed the thought. It was nothing, he convinced himself—just another strange detail in this confusing nightmare.
Father Josiah gave one final, lingering look at Rei before leaving. The door slammed shut with a finality that echoed through the chamber. Rei was alone again, the cold stone walls pressing in around him.
He pressed his back against the wall, his mind racing. Tomorrow... everything would change.
Tomorrow, he would face the offering ceremony. And nothing, it seemed, would ever be the same again.