Chapter 8: Blood in the Pipe
Inside the dim tunnels on the south side of the sewers, a battered boy limped forward, one hand pressed to his side holding on to a wound located at his ribs. As he moved every step seemed to send a sharp tremor of pain through his body as it was clearly obvious given by his grimacing expression.
Nick dragged himself forward, every step sending a fresh stab of pain up his ribs. His shirt clung wetly to his side, blood seeping between his fingers where he pressed down hard. He staggered once, caught himself on the wall, and hissed through clenched teeth.
"Damn those bastards," he spat, his breath ragged. "All this… over an old grudge."
His boots splashed weakly in the shallow water as he rounded the corner.
And then spotted the big rusty pipe that belonged to Gloria.
Gloria's spot which used to be invincible was dead quiet.
Nick stopped at the entrance and squinted into the dark. There was something lying still just inside, but he couldn't make out what it was due to the darkness.
"Gloria?" he called out, voice rough and barely more than a whisper.
No answer. Just the sound of water dripping somewhere down the tunnel.
The knot in Nick's stomach grew as he pushed himself inside, his limping getting worse. The air felt heavier and metallic, and Nick's heart skipped a beat as he recognized the familiar scent of blood. His heart was pounding loud enough to drown out everything else. When he finally reached the figure, all the pain and fear hit him like a wall.
There was Gloria — the tough but kind woman who had ruled this side of the sewers like a queen. She was slumped against the pipe's curved wall, like she'd just sat down and couldn't get back up. Her trusted giant machete lay a few feet away from her, stained with flesh blood, and her clothes were soaked in blood. Her eyes were shut tight, and her chest barely moved with shallow breaths.
Nick forgot about his own injuries. He dropped to his knees next to her.
"Gloria… no, don't do this," he said, voice breaking with panic.
His hand trembled as he moved it toward the wound on her chest. A faint white glow flickered in his palm, encasing his small hand with a white light.
But just before he could touch her, Gloria's hand shot out and grabbed his wrist. Her eyes snapped open, sharp and cold despite her weak state.
"Watch where you put those hands, kid," she growled.
Nick gasped, "Come on, Gloria! I'm trying to help. Please, just let me—" Tears blurred his vision as he pushed harder, the light in his palm growing stronger.
Her grip tightened — stronger than he expected from someone on death's door. Then her expression softened, like she was tired but somehow glad to see him. She sighed.
"l know kiddo?" But even your dumbass knows that your little light can't heal this one "
Nick shook his head, jaw trembling. "No. Don't say that. You're Gloria. You don't just… die."
A small, bitter smile touched her lips.
"Everyone dies, Nick," she said, voice low but serious. "Even the ones who think they're invincible. That's a lesson you should never forget"
Her gaze landed on Nick's hand which was still encased by a white glow. After a moment she then said.
"Nick, you know that l am not going to make it. "
Nick shook his head as he kept muttering to himself.
"No..no...l can still heal you. l just_"
Smack!
The sound echoed in the hollow pipe. Nick's head snapped sideways, his cheek stinging."Look at me, brat," Gloria growled. Her eyes burned even as blood seeped from her wounds. "If you waste your time crying over me, you'll end up like me. You understand?"
Nick's chest heaved as he stared at her, half in shock, half in denial. He wanted to scream, to argue, to insist he could save her. But the resolve Gloria made him stop.
"Quit your sniveling," she snapped, her voice gravelly yet firm. "You think those tears will fix me? Hah. Use your damn head, boy."
Nick swallowed hard, biting his lip to keep it from trembling. "I… I just don't want to lose you."
"You will," Gloria said flatly. Then her tone softened — not kind, but heavy with meaning. "And that's why you need to listen."
"You've always been special, kid. That class of yours?" Her eyes flicked to his faintly glowing palm. "If you're smart, you'll use it. Not to patch up old women like me, but to claw your way out of this sewer pit. Out of these damned Exiled Cities, if you can."
Nick shook his head weakly. "Gloria, I can't just—"
"Yes, you can!" she barked, her irritation cutting through the air. "Don't play the fool. You've got an advantage that the rest of these rats don't. Use it, or you'll end up another corpse in the water."
Her breathing hitched, but she forced herself to continue, gripping his wrist tighter.
"Listen closely, because I won't say it twice. Look after Rook. That boy's a magnet for trouble, but he's got spirit. Whatever trouble he is in with the Joker gang , l believe he will make it, so you better look after him once he is back.
And Rin… don't you dare underestimate her. She's smarter than all of us put together — even me. You and Rook better learn to use that head of hers, or you'll end up dead in a week."
Her lips trembled as she coughed, flecks of blood spattering her chin. Still, her glare pinned him like a knife.
"And Melissa," she rasped. "She's just a girl, but she's strong in her own way. Keep her safe."
Nick's throat tightened. He nodded fiercely, blinking back the tears that threatened again.
Gloria gave a weary, annoyed sigh. "Good. Now, you gather those three — Rook, Rin, Melissa — and you get the hell out of here. Immediately. The balance down here has shifted. Those savages from the North? They're not playing games anymore. They want the whole sewer under their filthy boots. This place is about to become a warzone, and we've got too many enemies to survive it without me holding the line."
Her eyes burned with the same fire that had kept this corner safe for years. "There is no longer any hope for me"
Nick opened his mouth to argue, but Gloria cut him off with a growl. "Don't you dare argue with me, boy! Just do it. For once in your life, don't make me repeat myself."
Her hand slipped shakily into the folds of her torn coat. After a moment, she pulled out a small silver accessory — a pendant shaped like a cracked sunburst, its center etched with the faint outline of a single closed eye. The metal was worn smooth from years of touch, its surface dulled but still reflecting that silver luster.
Nick stared at it, confused. "What… what is that?"
Gloria pressed it firmly into his palm. "Something I should've thrown away years ago… but maybe it still has one use left. Take it east, to the blind lunatic who calls himself a prophet. You know the one."
Nick blinked. "You mean the crazy old man who lives in the Rusty pits?"
A smirk tugged at her lips. "Crazy or not, he's been waiting for this. Put that in his hand and tell him Gloria sent you. That's all. Don't ask questions, just do it."
Her hand trembled, but she forced his fist closed around the pendant. Her voice dropped, heavy and tired, but sharp enough to cut.
"Promise me, Nick. Gather the others. Get out. Don't waste what I've given you. Don't waste yourself."
Nick's eyes blurred as hot tears rolled down his face. His voice cracked. "I promise."
Gloria let out a long, shaky breath, her body slumping slightly. Yet her eyes, dim as they were, still gleamed with that unbreakable fire.
"That's my boy," she whispered. "Now… go."