Scorched Twilight

Chapter 11: Dysthe

A/N: Y/n(the edgy one) will be called Thanatos.

Lungmen, Northern District

A Sankta unknowingly looked southward, catching plumes of smoke ascending to the cloudy sky, she shrugged it off as nothing important and continued her way. Having something else to do, she had zero time to waste it on sightseeing.

She stopped outside of an abandoned night club, the neon sign long gone but the door still contained its name written in faded purple letters: The Dying Hearse.

Mostima: This must be it. Wonder why they wanted to meet in a place like this.

Before she left, she asked Emperor why the client as specifically for her, but the Liberi shrugged his shoulders, telling her that a job was a job, and that if they tried anything she could easily take them on.

The door swung open with a shrill scream the made Mostima's ears ring for a short while. The power still functioned surprisingly, string lights wrapped around the banister of the second floor of the club as she could also hear the faint whirring of a generator somewhere.

In spite of the lights, Mostima still left the door open, the clicking of her boots echoing around the room. She took the steps down to the tiled dance floor, some tiles still showing off some shred of light.

Mostima: Helllooooooo...? Anyone need something delivered here?

Mostima reached the bar table, each individual bottle varying in measurements and dust content, she dragged to of her fingers across the wooden surface of the dusty table, inspecting the dust that formed in her hands.

Mostima: Must have been to the wrong location, I'll just ask Emperor again once I walk out.

Just as she took a step away, her eyes landed on a certain spot on the table, aside from dust, there was a handprint, the shape was still visible and showed signs of it being recent.

*creak*

The door closed, followed by a muffled click from outside. Mostima was trapped.

Mostima: Hm?

Three hooded men stood at the center of the dance floor, each one held different weapons, the left held a whip, the right held a claymore, and finally the center held a crooked staff. All three were chanting harmoniously in an unknown, which were shortly followed by others who were hidden around the bar.

"I give you our sincerest welcome, Apostate. It is such an honor to meet you."

Mostima smiled as she pointed one of her staffs at the middle figure, the one who spoke to her.

Mostima: Sorry, but Halloween already passed.

"Mock us all you want, our sentiments are reserved for the Lord, not for some lowly Apostate. But fear not, you may have our sentiments once we reinstate you."

Mostima: Reinstate?

"Yes, reinstate."

The middle man waved his staff in a circling motion as a red star motif visualized itself in front of everyone. Mostima suddenly jumped behind the counter as three powerful bursts of dark red Arts hit the table and left a mark on the table that crumpled away like ashes.

"Ash, the epoch and the termination of the cycle of life. Cities burn, bodies char, all will fall to it's clutches."

Mostima: These dudes are nuts! Can we meet somewhere in the middle?

"Ah, no amount of negotiation can override our orders, Apostate. Please comply and we will be kind."

Mostima: Guess I won't hold back then!