The rooster's crow pierced the quiet morning, its sharp call echoing through the sleepy town. Reed stood among a scattered crowd in the town center, his hood pulled low over his face. The air was thick with anticipation, the kind that comes before something momentous. The crowd had gathered to welcome the Church, a symbol of order and holiness, revered by all.

  DUM! DUM!

  The deep, resonant sound of drums filled the air, their rhythm steady and commanding. The crowd parted like a wave, making way for the procession of holy knights. Each knight was a towering figure, clad in gleaming armor, their spears taller than horses and shields broader than doors.

  Every step they took sent a tremor through the ground, their presence both awe-inspiring and intimidating. Engraved on their shields was the symbol of Faelara, the main church of the country—a radiant sun encircled by a ring of flames.

  At the center of the procession walked Father Ursus, a towering figure clad in flowing white robes adorned with golden embroidery. His presence was commanding, his every movement exuding an air of divine authority. As he passed, the crowd bowed their heads in reverence, a sea of lowered faces. But Reed stood apart, his body trembling, his palms slick with sweat. To him, Father Ursus was not just a man of the Church—he was something far more sinister.

  In Reed's eyes, the priest was accompanied by a shadowy, humanoid figure with jagged, translucent wings that glowed faintly at the edges. The creature hovered beside Father Ursus, its hollow, glowing eyes radiating menace, and its predatory movements sending a chill down Reed's spine. Its presence was overwhelming, a stark reminder of the unnatural forces at play.

  When Father Ursus reached the town center, the holy knights formed a protective circle around him and the thirteen sinkers. The crowd pressed closer, their murmurs growing louder as they formed a loose ring around the chosen ones. Reed stood among them, his long hooded robe concealing the silver blade at his side and the leather bottle tied to his waist. His gaze was drawn to Father Ursus, unable to look away.

  "Hehehe, be careful, boy. Don't stare for too long," a familiar, playful voice echoed in Reed's head. He didn't question her words; he trusted them completely.

  "Why not? Everyone is staring at him," Reed muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible.

  The voice chuckled, a sound that was both soothing and teasing. "You are not like everyone, now are you?"

  Reed cursed silently, unable to argue with her logic. He shifted his gaze away from Father Ursus, focusing instead on the sinkers. Most of them looked like empty vessels, their faces hollow and their eyes distant. Some cried quietly, their tears falling unchecked, while others sat motionless, their minds seemingly far away.

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  A few bore the marks of their struggles—missing limbs, scarred faces, or sightless eyes. Reed wasn't particularly interested in them. His attention was drawn to the ones who still carried themselves with purpose: Caspian and Cassie.

  When Reed's eyes landed on Caspian, the woman standing behind him—Rien—immediately reacted. Her hand flew to the dagger at her waist, and her sharp gaze locked onto Reed's position. Reed quickly averted his eyes, pretending to stare at something else.

  Caspian noticed her movement and glanced at her briefly. "What's wrong, Rien?" he asked, his tone cold and military-precise.

  "I sensed killing intent," Rien replied obediently, her voice low but firm.

  Caspian's lips curled into a faint smirk. "Don't waste your strength. The Church won't allow anyone to harm us right now."

  Rien nodded and relaxed her stance, though her eyes remained wary.

  Reed, on the other side of the crowd, muttered to himself, "What an annoying fate. Tsk. Why don't I get a fate like hers?"

  "Oh? Would you like your limbs to be traded instead of your fated ability?" the voice in his head teased.

  Before Reed could respond, Father Ursus's voice rang out, calm and steady. "Today, we are here to pay respect to the sinkers."

  The crowd fell silent, their attention fixed on the priest. Reed felt his heart tighten, not from pain but from an uncomfortable pressure, as if the air itself had grown heavier.

  "Every four years, the world below takes away something precious from us all. Today, we pray to the lord—to guide them. If there is death, let it be gentle. If there is loss, let it be remembered. And if there are survivors, let them be our protectors."

  Father Ursus paused, his gaze sweeping over the sinkers. "The Sinking will be unpredictable. We do not know what you might witness. We can only pray for you."

  He closed his eyes, and the necklace around his neck began to glow, emitting a warm, holy light. The crowd followed suit, their hands clasped in prayer. Reed's discomfort grew as the light grew brighter, but he forced himself to remain still. The shadowy creature beside Father Ursus seemed to grow more vivid, its jagged wings shimmering faintly as if feeding on the energy of the ritual.

  When Father Ursus opened his eyes, his voice carried a weight that seemed to resonate through the very ground. "The lord has spoken. There shall only be three survivors. We wish all the best for the fourteen sinkers."

  The crowd erupted into murmurs, their voices growing louder and more frantic.

  "Fourteen? There are only thirteen sinkers!" "What does this mean?" "Who's the fourteenth?" The movement in the crowd became chaotic, people pushing and shoving as panic spread.

  Reed struggled to calm his nerves, his hand instinctively moving to the hilt of his blade beneath his robe. The noise around him was overwhelming, a cacophony of fear and confusion.

  And then, cutting through the chaos, he heard it.

  "REED!"

  His head turned slowly, his eyes locking onto a familiar face. Jade. Her hand was stretched out toward him, desperation etched into every line of her face.

  For a moment, the noise around him vanished, the world narrowing to just the two of them. He saw her lips move, forming his name again, but the sound was lost in the din. Her eyes were wide, filled with a mixture of panic and hope.

  Reed's chest tightened, not from the pressure of the ritual but from something deeper, something he couldn't quite name. He wanted to reach out, to say something, but there was no time. All he could do was give her a gentle, soft smile—a smile that held all the words he couldn't say.

  I missed you.

  And then, as the crowd surged around him, Reed felt the ground beneath him give way. The world seemed to tilt, and he was falling—not to the ground, but into it, as if the earth itself had opened up to swallow him whole.

  The last thing he saw was Jade's face, her hand still outstretched, her expression frozen in shock.

  And then he was gone.