Nyx was surprised. It wasn’t until she reached the intricately carved double-doors of Euphony’s Chapel that she realized someone was tailing her. Not every hunter was capable of that, but as far as she was concerned, their attempt ends here.
She opened the door, stepping inside, and found herself staring at a large altar sitting beneath intricately marbled walls flecked with black and silver metallic patterning. The crowd was minimal today, as only a few disheveled individuals stood near the podium, their eyes cast forward as a man in uniform began scanning their ID chips. A small table sat at the corner of the room, brochures sitting on top of its draped surface.
She was here only as a formality and needed to move forward with her mission sooner than later. Keeping her eyes on the door for the tail, she began standing behind the line of visitors, who crowded the left side of the room, next to rows of wooden benches which extended halfway across the tiled floor.
Nyx only caught a peripheral glimpse of the red sash on the tail’s waist. It wasn’t too common of a fashion choice, so if he decided to step in she would know. Assuming he was a hunter of any notable standing he wouldn’t –
No, not with these many people around, she thought. Auditors are a huge deterrent for hunters when unmarked hunts have conducted. Punishment varies depending on the type of hunt, the status of the hunter and hunted, and the collateral damage involved, but rarely does it involve something as light as a simple fine.
“Next,” the guard at the center of the room said, as the line began moving forward. Nyx moved along with the wave, darting her eyes every now and then at the mosaic glass windows which covered the sides of the building. Its design allowed light to pass through, illuminating the tiled floor, but its opaque design precluded any clear image from forming in a passersby’s eyes.
The line continued to move until it reached her turn.
“Name and purpose?” an older gentlemen said. He had on a strange ornately designed white hat, bands surrounding its edges made up for a strange specular material. These mitre hats were common amongst the clergy in this district and were symbols of status amongst those from the Clan of Voices.
The clergyman waited patiently as Nyx responded, “Bridget Doe. I’m here as a refugee.”
The older man eyed her for a moment, and then nodded, “It seems more and more divers like you have been frequenting our humble district. Fret not, the Clan of Voices welcomes you with open arms.”
“Thanks. So do you just need to scan my ID or something?” Nyx asked.
“Ah, yes. It’s just policy. Afterwards, we’ll provide you some basic information about the various institutions here, including food, and where you can find temporary shelter in the meantime.”
Once Nyx passed the ID verification – luckily, no second attempt was needed - she asked the clergyman about the entrance, “So it’s just that one door to get in and out of here?”
The clergyman looked at her, somewhat confused, “Why no, dear. We have multiple entrances in this location. That entrance there is just the one leading to the main service area where the altar is located. However, if you go past the office located at the end of the corner hallway, you’ll find another entrance there.”
The clergyman seemed very trusting, or he’s just confident. Not much happens around this district, given Taysa Polaris and her Paladins’ brutal enforcement of order across the roads here. She saw at least one of her Division hunters patrolling on her way up to this chapel. It would make sense the clergy could act so stoic handling so many different personalities walking through the district.
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“Thanks,” Nyx said. She waited patiently in the church as others began to flood into the room. Walking up to the guard, she pointed down that same hallway, “You have a restroom down that hall?” The guard nodded, and Nyx nodded back, walking down that direction.
When she reached the end of the hall, she saw the office the clergyman mentioned, scanning the area for an entrance. She found one to her left, walking past a couple of rooms where men and woman could be heard praying. She picked up a brochure on the way out.
Couldn’t hurt to know a bit more about this district, she thought. A noise rang in her ear. Shocked, she swung her head behind her and looked back.
Nothing.
Above her, she noticed the walls of this place were lined in that same strange specular material. Parts of the paint were chipped off from it and she recognized the underlying texture.
Oh, that’s right, she thought. Bastion metal.
And those sounds must’ve been the deific “voices” those who come here to worship claim to here. Nyx knew better. She shouldn’t stay here too long, lest the Voices of Madness affect her. It appeared the sounds affected her inside one of these Chapels even when she wasn’t activating her Johrei abilities. Perhaps it was due to her status as an Inner? Regardless, it was not something relevant to her at the moment.
Stepping outside, she found herself in an empty street. Dilapidated roofing lined houses of identical design down multiple blocks, from what it seemed. Were these the shelters? The monastery here seems to block much of the view to the back streets here from the first entryway.
She rubbed the back of her head, wondering how to get back to the main street sections. A lot of the areas here were walled off, leaving little flexibility as to direction. She could just hop over these walls, but that would be crude, if not suspicious.
She walked forward, pulling out her brochure. With the way the sun hit, a large shadow cast over her from the monastery, making it hard for her to read. When she stepped out into the first intersection of this quiet neighborhood, she dropped a small ball with intricate patterning onto the floor. Noiseless, the ball latched onto the pavement, opening up into a segmented disc.
Chuckling to herself, she put the brochure back into her pocket, feet stopping in the middle of the world.
“How’d you figure I was following you?” a man with a coarse voice said. Imad Wren, appeared from a small alley behind Nyx.
“You’re awfully polite for a hunter,” Nyx responded, turning her head around. She smiled mischievously. A beautiful smile, though one not lacking ill intent.
The man looked at her curiously, before chuckling, “You’re a curious one dear.”
“Now,” Nyx said, as the pair began to circle around each other, maintaining a set distance. “Why follow a refugee like me?” She raised her arms up, placing her hands on her chest, as if offended. Imad eyed her carefully, wary of weaponry.
“A refugee that can tell when a hunter is tracking them?” he responded, voice impressed, “Either you’re the biggest liar or the biggest fool.”
“Maybe you’re just not that good at tailing people,” Nyx responded. That got a response from Imad, who squinted at her. Nyx was attempting to demean him, getting him to divulge any information. Riling someone up was often the best way of accomplishing that, given how little information she had on her at the moment.
Imad sensed something was up however, “You’re smarter than you look”. Nyx’s eyebrow twitched from that. Her natural temperament was more aggressive than other Blackbird members, but she was smart enough to recognize that he’s trying to do the same thing she’s doing to her.
In that moment, Nyx decided to try something different. She smiled, and Imad raised his head.
Then she ran off, sprinting down the road and turning the corner.
“Shit!” Imad said, realizing that she intentionally circled herself to get him to reposition himself so as to not block her path of escape.
He chased after her, and right as he did, he heard a click on the ground.
An explosion of smoke and gas engulfed him. The blast was quiet enough that only those who had already been looking this way would notice the smokescreen. It was then, in a coughing fit, and as he began to lose consciousness, that he had begun he realized he’d been playing into her hands this entire time.
