The darkness in the storm drain was no longer just an absence of light; it was a physical entity, pressing in, suffocating. The air, thick with the stench of stagnant water and decay, felt heavy, each breath a struggle against the oppressive gloom. Jodi's tactical flashlight, a frail beacon against the abyss, trembled in his hand, its beam dancing across slimy concrete and the murky water that sloshed around their ankles. Liam, a dead weight against his side, coughed again, a wet, rattling sound that tore at Jodi's already frayed nerves.
"Are you alright?" Jodi rasped, his voice a low growl, strained with a desperate concern that warred with the lingering tremor of the raw power that had just surged through him. He kept his head on a swivel, his eyes scanning the limited space, listening for anything that didn't belong. The GCA wouldn't be far behind. They never were.
Liam shook his head weakly, his body trembling uncontrollably. "No. My side… it feels like it's on fire. And my head… it's pounding. Like the chanting is still in there. The whispers, Jodi… they're getting louder. They're telling me… to give in." He winced, clutching his ribs, his breath hitching, a pained gasp escaping his lips.
Jodi shone the light on Liam's side. The purplish bruise was now a sickly black, spreading like a malevolent ink stain, and the faint, almost invisible symbol etched into his skin pulsed with a more vibrant, alarming luminescence. It was a brand, a curse, a direct consequence of Liam having broken his initiation. And Jodi's own power, "The Abandoned One" within him, had reacted violently to it, making it worse. He felt a cold dread, a profound helplessness. His power, meant to save, had only inflicted more pain.
"It's a mark of their binding," Jodi explained, his voice grim, trying to keep the despair from seeping in. "A spiritual tether. When you broke the oath, it… backfired. It's trying to consume you, to pull you back into their influence, or worse." He hesitated, then added, the words heavy with a confession he hated, "And my power… it didn't help. It reacted. It's… volatile. It's not a healing force, Liam. It's… something else."
"Volatile?" Liam's voice was thin, laced with a fresh wave of terror that mirrored the fear in Jodi's own heart. "Jodi, what is inside you? When you… when you roared… I felt it. It was like the air itself was screaming. Like the world was tearing apart. Like… like everything was being abandoned." He looked up at Jodi, his eyes wide, reflecting the flashlight's beam, searching for answers Jodi didn't have. "Are you… are you going to be okay?"
Jodi didn't answer immediately. He remembered the profound, alien presence, the vast, ancient loneliness that had threatened to swallow him whole. He remembered the raw, destructive power that had erupted from him, shattering the cultists' tendrils. He had fought it back, pushed it down, but it was still there, a cold, vast emptiness that resonated with his very core. He was terrified of what it meant. Terrified of what he was becoming. Terrified of what he might do.
"I don't know, Liam," he finally admitted, the words tasting like ash, like dust. "But I'll control it. I have to. For you. I won't let it hurt you. I won't let them hurt you." He squeezed Liam's shoulder, a silent, desperate promise.
They moved deeper into the darkness, the air growing colder, the stench of decay more pronounced. The water in the drain became deeper in places, forcing Liam to gasp as the cold seeped into his injured side. Jodi supported him, his own exhaustion mounting, but he pushed it down. He couldn't afford to be weak. Not now.
"Why did you leave them, Jodi?" Liam asked, his voice barely a whisper, breaking the oppressive silence. "You were… you were their best. Kael always said you were the strongest. The most gifted. He said you were destined for greatness within the GCA."
Jodi scoffed, a bitter, hollow sound that echoed in the confined space. "Gifted? They called it gifted. I called it a cage. They wanted to strip away everything that made me me, and replace it with their dogma. They wanted to turn me into a fanatic, like Kael. A tool, to be wielded by them. A weapon of their 'Abandoned One'." He remembered the endless drills, the brutal sparring sessions, the way Master Thorne had pushed him beyond his limits, breaking his spirit only to rebuild it in the cult's image. "You are a weapon, Jodi. A perfect instrument of the Abandoned One's will." The words, once a source of twisted pride, now tasted like bile.
"But they offered us strength," Liam countered, his voice weak but earnest, a desperate plea for understanding. "They offered us a place. After… after junior school. After everyone… abandoned us. Don't you remember, Jodi? The humiliation? The way they looked at us, like we were trash? The GCA promised us a way to never feel that way again."
The word hung in the air, heavy and loaded. Abandoned. It was the core of their shared trauma, the wound that had driven them both to the cult's doorstep. Jodi remembered it all too well. The taunts. The shoves. The feeling of being utterly, completely alone, invisible to the teachers, abandoned by the world. It was the reason he had let the cult in, the reason he had trained with such furious dedication.
"They offered a false strength, Liam," Jodi retorted, his voice hardening, a cold fury building within him. "A strength that came at the cost of your soul. They didn't want us to 'rise above' our abandonment, Liam. They wanted us to become their instruments of abandonment. To inflict it on others. To make the world pay for their perceived slights. That's their philosophy. That's what 'The Abandoned One' means to them – a force of retribution against those who have abandoned truth, power, destiny."
He remembered the sermons, the endless indoctrination. The GCA preached that humanity had abandoned its true potential, its spiritual connection, its cosmic purpose. They believed "The Abandoned One" was a wronged entity, a cosmic force that had been cast out, and that only through the cult's rituals and the "purification" of the world could it be appeased or fully awakened. And they believed Jodi, as "The Abandoned One's" vessel, was the key to this grand, terrifying design.
"I saw the fanaticism in their eyes, Liam," Jodi continued, his voice low, filled with a simmering resentment. "I saw the hunger. They didn't care about us. They cared about power. And they would have sacrificed us all, just like they were going to sacrifice you, to get it. They don't care about you, Liam. They don't care about me. We're just tools."
Liam was silent for a moment, the only sound the sloshing of water. "So, you just… left? How? They never let anyone leave. They said… they said you died. That you were consumed by the very power you tried to deny."
"I made them think I was dead," Jodi said, his voice flat. "It was messy. I burned every bridge. Cut every tie. I vanished. I thought I was free." He paused, a bitter, humorless laugh escaping him. "Turns out, you can't truly abandon 'The Abandoned One'. It always finds a way back."
A sudden, sharp clang echoed from somewhere behind them, followed by a muffled shout. Jodi froze, his senses stretched to their limit. The air shifted, carrying the faint, metallic tang of the cult's unique, dark energy.
"They're here," he whispered, his grip tightening on Liam's arm. "They found an access point."
"How?" Liam's voice was a panicked squeak. "We were so careful! You said no electronic trails!"
"They have their ways," Jodi said grimly. "They're relentless. And now that they know what I am, they'll spare no expense. They'll send their elite. Their hunters." He looked around the drain. There was no easy escape. The tunnel stretched endlessly in both directions, a concrete maw.
"We need to move faster," Jodi urged, pulling Liam along. "We need to find an exit. And we need to find that Curator."
"The 'Curator of Lost Lore'?" Liam scoffed, a weak, disbelieving sound, but there was a strange undertone to his voice, a subtle shift in its timbre that Jodi, in his desperate state, almost missed. "Jodi, that's a myth. A story the lower ranks tell to scare new recruits. A boogeyman for those who question the GCA's knowledge. A convenient escape route for those who can't face the truth."
"It's not a myth," Jodi insisted, his voice firm, clinging to this last thread of hope. "Master Thorne mentioned him once. In passing. A warning, almost. He said there were those who sought forbidden knowledge. Those who dared to question the GCA's narrative. The Curator was one of them. Someone who gathered the 'abandoned' truths, the fragments of history the cult tried to erase."
He remembered a specific, unsettling flashback from his training. A late-night lecture by Master Thorne, his voice a low, hypnotic drone, speaking of the dangers of "unfiltered knowledge." He'd shown them ancient, blurred images of forbidden texts, of symbols that seemed to twist the very air. "There are those who hoard these broken truths," Thorne had said, his eyes gleaming with contempt. "They call themselves Curators. They believe they can piece together what The Abandoned One has left behind. They are fools. They will only awaken what should remain dormant. They will only find more reasons to be abandoned."
At the time, Jodi had dismissed it as a scare tactic. Now, it was his only hope. If anyone knew how to counter the cult's binding magic, how to understand the nature of "The Abandoned One" within him, it would be someone who had dedicated their life to studying the very things the GCA sought to control or destroy.
"He's our only chance, Liam," Jodi said, his voice filled with a desperate conviction. "He might know how to help you. And he might know how to help me understand… this." He gestured vaguely at his chest, at the cold, vast presence within him.
They continued their arduous journey through the drains, the water growing deeper in some sections, forcing Jodi to half-carry Liam. Liam's breathing became more labored, his body trembling uncontrollably. The glowing mark on his side pulsed with an alarming intensity, casting a faint, sickly green light in the darkness.
"Jodi… I don't feel so good," Liam whispered, his voice barely audible, his head lolling against Jodi's shoulder. "My strength… it's leaving me."
Jodi stopped, shining the flashlight on Liam's face. His skin was clammy, his lips tinged blue. His eyes were unfocused, glazed with pain and fever. The mark on his side was now throbbing, a visible pulse of dark energy, almost like a living thing burrowing into his flesh.
"Liam!" Jodi felt a surge of cold panic, a desperate, clawing fear. Liam was fading. The cult's magic was consuming him.
He quickly unzipped his backpack, pulling out the small first-aid kit. He didn't have much. Just some bandages, antiseptic wipes, painkillers. Nothing for a spiritual curse. He pressed his hand against Liam's forehead. Burning hot. "Damn it, Liam, stay with me!"
"It's… it's getting stronger," Liam whimpered, his eyes fluttering closed. "The whispers… they're louder. They're telling me… to give in. To let it take me. To embrace the… the true freedom of abandonment."
Jodi felt a terrifying resonance. The whispers Liam described were chillingly similar to the invading thoughts he'd experienced in the chamber. The "Abandoned One" within him stirred, a cold, vast presence that seemed to pulse in response to Liam's pain, almost like a predator sensing weakness. He fought it down, gritting his teeth, his jaw aching with the effort of suppression. He couldn't let it take over. Not now. He couldn't risk harming Liam.
He ripped open a painkiller packet, forcing the pills into Liam's mouth, then made him swallow them with a gulp of water. It was a temporary measure, at best.
"Hold on, Liam," Jodi pleaded, his voice thick with emotion, raw with desperation. "Just hold on. We're almost there. I'll find him. I'll find the Curator. He'll know what to do."
But as the thump-thump-thump of heavy footsteps grew louder, closer, Jodi's senses screamed. They were directly behind them. He could hear the slosh of water, the heavy breathing of trained cultists. The air vibrated with their approaching presence.
"Jodi," Liam's voice, small and weak, suddenly cleared. The feverish glaze in his eyes seemed to dissipate for a moment, replaced by a chilling, almost predatory glint. His lips, previously blue, curved into a slow, unnatural smile. "There's no escape. Not for you. Not for it."
Jodi froze, his blood running cold, a wave of sickening disbelief washing over him. The change in Liam's voice, the sudden clarity, the chilling smile – it was wrong. Terribly wrong.
"What are you talking about?" Jodi demanded, his grip tightening on Liam's arm, his voice trembling with a dawning horror.
Liam, or the entity speaking through him, chuckled, a dry, rasping sound that was utterly alien. "You really thought I was just a victim, Jodi? You, of all people? So naive. So… predictable." The voice deepened, layered with an ancient, resonant echo. "You always were so noble. So desperate to protect. So… abandoned."
Jodi felt a jolt of pure, visceral horror. This wasn't Liam. Not truly. He tried to pull away, but Liam's grip, despite his apparent weakness, was suddenly iron-strong, unyielding.
"What have you done, Liam?" Jodi snarled, his voice thick with disbelief and the agonizing sting of betrayal. "What have they done to you?"
Liam, his eyes now glowing with the same sickly green light as the mark on his side, leaned closer, his voice a chilling whisper. "I did what was necessary, Jodi. I provided the bait. I drew you out. And now… you're exactly where we need you to be. Where it needs you to be." He gestured to the glowing mark on his side. "They showed me the truth, Jodi. The real power. The true path. You were always too blind to see it. You ran from it. You abandoned your destiny."
With a sudden, powerful shove, Liam pushed Jodi forward. Jodi stumbled, losing his footing in the murky water, crashing against the slimy wall of the drain. Before he could recover, Liam, with astonishing speed, pulled a small, intricately carved bone whistle from beneath his tunic. He blew into it, a high-pitched, piercing shriek that resonated through the tunnels, cutting through the approaching footsteps, a signal.
The sound was a command.
From the darkness ahead, and from behind where the cultists were approaching, new figures emerged. Not just the heavy-footed enforcers, but agile, cloaked figures, moving with the same silent grace Jodi himself possessed. They were the GCA's elite, their faces hidden, their weapons glinting. They had been waiting. They had been led.
Jodi scrambled to his feet, his mind reeling, a whirlwind of disbelief, agony, and incandescent rage. Betrayal. By Liam. His cousin. The one person he had risked everything for. The one person he had sworn to protect from abandonment. The one person he had believed would never abandon him.
"Liam, why?" Jodi's voice was a raw, guttural cry of pain, his heart twisting in his chest, a wound deeper than any physical blow. "After everything… after all we went through… how could you?"
Liam, his face still contorted in that chilling, alien smile, simply watched, his eyes burning with a cold, triumphant light. "The Abandoned One must be reclaimed, Jodi. And you are its vessel. Your resistance was… inconvenient. But predictable. This way, it's cleaner. You're too dangerous to be left to your own devices. And I… I get to rise above my own abandonment. They showed me how. They offered me power. Real power. Not like your pathetic attempts to hide."
He gestured to the approaching cultists. "They promised me a place. A true place. Not like the one you abandoned me in, when you ran."
Jodi felt the cold, vast presence of "The Abandoned One" within him surge, not with a whisper, but with a roar of pure, cosmic rage and profound, soul-shattering loneliness. This was the ultimate abandonment. Betrayed by the one he loved most, lured into a trap, deemed "useless" and "blind" by the very person he saved. The WPC prompt's questions screamed in his mind, no longer abstract, but searingly real: You worked, you supported, you sacrificed. Yet despite everything, those people still abandoned you and dropped you like you were trash. What do you do next?
The answer, in that moment, was clear. He would not give up. He would not accept defeat. He would rise. But how? And at what cost?
He met Liam's gaze, the chilling, alien glint in his cousin's eyes, a reflection of the darkness that had consumed him. The pain of the betrayal was a physical ache, worse than any blow.
"You made a mistake, Liam," Jodi growled, his voice low, resonating with the nascent power within him, vibrating with a terrifying, barely contained fury. "You have no idea what you've just unleashed. You have no idea what it means to be truly… abandoned by everything."
With a sudden, guttural scream that was more beast than man, Jodi unleashed his power. Not in a directed burst, but a raw, uncontrolled explosion of dark energy, fueled by the agony of betrayal, by the profound, cosmic loneliness that now mirrored his personal anguish. The drain tunnel shuddered violently, the concrete groaning. The water erupted, spraying everywhere, a chaotic maelstrom. The cultists were thrown back, their formations shattered, some screaming as the raw power lashed out, tearing at the very fabric of the tunnel.
Jodi didn't wait. He didn't look back at Liam, whose smile remained fixed, chilling, a final, agonizing image burned into his mind. He used the chaos, the momentary disarray, to launch himself forward, not towards an obvious exit, but deeper into the unknown, into a smaller, darker side tunnel, a desperate, blind escape. He moved with a desperate, animalistic speed, fueled by rage, pain, and the terrifying, uncoiling power of "The Abandoned One" within him.
He was alone. Truly, utterly alone. Abandoned by the one person he had risked everything for, the one person who was supposed to be his last anchor. The serpent had uncoiled, yes. But now, it was also bleeding. And it was furious. And the abyss within him, the vast, cold presence of "The Abandoned One," seemed to resonate with his newfound, profound isolation, whispering promises of power, and retribution. The stillness was gone. The cultist was awake. And the world would feel his wrath.