"Keep quiet, and let them pass," Riven says, slowly backing away from the window,
Eryndor nods, clenching his glowing arm.
After a few more moments, the shadows of the creatures slowly begin to fade.
The group sighs in relief, knowing they just escaped narrowly.
"I guess they weren't really hungry today," Liora says, rising from the bar counter to brush off the dust on her.
"You saw what happens to those guards," Riven said, grabbing a chair to block the door handle. "They don't care about food, but rather the thrill of the hunt."
Liora looks to Eryndor, narrowing her eyes, seeing him hiding his arm. "Well… this one sure looks to be."
Riven followed her gaze, his expression hardening."And what are we going to do about that?"
"Not sure, we never thought this would happen." Liora comes from around the counter.
"What do you mean by we?" Riven tracks Liora as she comes around.
" Back at the dominion, there was a research group that was testing with ash-cores and dead forgeling bodies. The end goal being what Eryndor is today."
"So you're telling me, the dominion was trying to make an artificial Forgeling?" Riven now narrowing his eyes.
"Bingo," she says playfully
"Part Forgeling? No way! I mean, how could that even be!? A human could never be such a thing!" Eryndor shakes his head, trying to deny the fact that he's mixed with metal.
"If that's the case, is there any reason I shouldn't just kill him where he stands." Riven picks up his harpoon gun, aiming it at Eryndor's heart, wrapping his fingers around the trigger.
For a moment, it felt like time froze for Eryndor, the weight of Riven's words crushing him.
"Now, now, Riven, try not to be so rash." Liora reaches out to touch Eryndor's glowing arm.
"It feels alive, like it has its own pulse, which means—."
"Which means it's all the more reason he must die."
" Wait, don't tell me you're being serious, Riven…" The disbelief sliced through Eryndor, but beneath the fear, Eryndor had some confidence; he had survived far worse situations before, and he knew he could find a way out of this.
"Have I ever once cracked a joke to you, Eryndor, and why should I? After all, you're a Forgeling now." Riven doesn't back down, keeping his weapon trained on Eryndor. "And I spare no sympathy for such creatures."
"If that is really the case, then how am I still human?" He muttered, almost to himself
"Who knows, maybe the effect is just slower on you," Liora suggested, still examining his arm.
"Riven…" Eryndor met his eyes, feeling stung from the harsh betrayal, but part of him was already calculating his next move.
The tavern falls quiet for a moment, the creaks of the sign and the outside ambience barely being audible from inside.
"Calm down, Riven." Liora said, quickly breaking the tension, "A human whose part Forgeling could prove to be a resourceful asset."
Eryndor flexed his fingers, his prosthetic mimicking him, almost like it was studying him.
"Like Hell he could, with how defensive you're being, I wouldn't be surprised if you're one too, Liora, considering how buddy-buddy you are to him."
"Now hold on, Riven, you remember when Liora gave me that ash-core?"
"Of course I do," his voice sharp with danger. "You sucked it up in an instant, which is all the more reason you should be six feet under."
"But when she gave me the core, my arm calmed down. Surely you remember that."
"Still, what if the cores aren't enough?" Riven asked, holding his breath.
"Well, it's simple really, you'll just have to kill me." Eryndor faintly smirks,
"After all, it's survival of the fittest in this world, right?"
Riven fingers twitch on the trigger, ultimately not following through.
"Bold statement from somebody who's so sympathetic," Riven states, still training his weapon at him.
"I think being sympathetic in a time like this would only cause more trouble; you taught me that, y'know."
"You're getting way too comfortable with that arm of yours, Eryndor," Riven states, his eyes never looking away from him.
"I have too, besides, it's a part of me now, isn't it?"
The room falls silent for a moment, only the wooden floorboards creak, and the sounds of distant fighting create the atmosphere.
"You're really not scared? Something so trivial like this, and it doesn't bother you one bit?" Liora says, walking towards a slumped chair.
"You must be mistaken. This thing is going to take some time to get used to, but I have to do what needs to be done to survive in this hellhole.
"Whatever keeps you going, I guess," she says, slumping into the chair.
"Besides, we can't just run blindly out there anymore; we need a plan, and if this hand can help in some way, then it's our best shot."
"You know he has a point, Riven. You should lower your weapon now. I don't think he'll be going berserk anytime soon."
Riven sighs, finally dropping his guard. "Fine, but anything sketchy and I'm blowing a hole clean threw your chest."
"Works for me," Eryndor says, sitting against the wall now. His arm flickers red once more, almost like it's trying to grab his attention.
The group falls into silence again, the creeping air from the outside slowly coming inside the tavern through the holes and cracks, the howls in the distance reminding the group of the temporary safety they have.
"Not to be a bearer of bad news, but my mask is running low on juice here," Liora says, sitting up in her chair.
"How much are we talking?" Riven asked
"17%" she mentions, walking over to the counter, looking for any spare respirators kept by the barkeeper.
"And here I was hoping for a break." Riven looks out the tavern window. Seeing nothing but the cinders and ash of the surrounding buildings.
The closet supply station is about 17 minutes away from where we are now, which means if we can travel by rooftop, we can cut that by half and reduce the risk of being caught by forgelings and patrols; however, it would leave us exposed to other dominion members or guards on the walls.
"If that's the case, may I suggest an idea?" Eryndor confidently says.
Across the city in the southern district, the gates open, a train whistle echoing throughout the quiet city, its wheels and mechanics also roar, shaking the station a little.
A man steps out of the passenger car, hopping off the train while it slowly comes to a stop at the south entrance station.
"Ahem."
"COMMENCE THE RETAKING OF THE COMMON SECTOR!"