The city had fallen into a strange quiet after Kael's intervention. But it was not peace. The air smelled of iron and ash, and shadows stretched unnaturally along the streets. Adrian felt it immediately—the subtle pull of desire and fear in the veins of every human around him, the crimson moon's whispers echoing in his chest, faint now but persistent.
He walked with caution, each step tentative. The streets were empty… yet not empty. The first victims emerged: merchants, guards, and townsfolk whose eyes glimmered unnaturally, pupils dark as the void, faces twisted in subtle, yet grotesque expressions. Their laughter was soft but chilling, like porcelain cracking in the distance. They were humans corrupted, vessels themselves now of the moon's insidious power.
Kael moved beside him, fluid and silent. The white of his hair swayed in the faint breeze, his eyes glowing with unnatural light. The sword in his hands seemed to vibrate in resonance with the pulse in Adrian's forehead. He spoke softly, a whisper almost lost in the city's eerie hum.
"They've begun feeding. The Scarlet Choir's influence is reaching beyond their spawn. Every desire, every fear—they've turned it against itself."
Adrian's chest throbbed with unease. Though his heart was no longer inside him, he could feel the pull of the crimson moon. Every flicker of a shadow, every unnatural movement of a corrupted human made it grow hotter, tighter. His vessel nature was being tested—not by the chest itself, but by the world around him.
From the shadows came movement. Figures emerged, dancing in the twisted chaos of the narrow streets:
Scarlet Covenant acolytes, chanting, faces hidden behind crimson masks, carrying blades that seemed to hum with corrupted energy.
Veil of Desire agents, alluring in appearance, moving with unnatural grace, their whispers teasing the fear and lust inside anyone who glanced at them.
Autumn Faction zealots, dressed in decayed golds and browns, laughing softly as they cast autumnal illusions, making streets appear endless, leaves falling even indoors.
The Hollow Hand, hidden in the city's elite, subtly directing corrupted humans to close in from all angles.
Kael's gaze swept over them. "Stay close," he said. His sword flicked in arcs, cutting through the nearest corrupted humans before they could reach Adrian. Every movement was precise, almost inhuman. Yet his presence radiated a strange, unsettling calm. It made Adrian uneasy, but also… strangely secure.
The corrupted humans hissed and shrieked as Kael's blade met their shadows. Their faces contorted into horrific parodies of themselves, eyes flickering with madness, smiles stretching impossibly wide. Some twisted into phobia-monster forms Adrian had never seen: tall, skeletal figures with reflective faces, giant claws, or mouths that opened impossibly wide, swallowing light.
Adrian's eyes burned as the crimson mark on his forehead pulsed. He reached out instinctively, feeling the chaos around him as if it were a tide pulling him under. His vessel nature resonated with every corrupted being, every whisper of desire or fear. It was overwhelming, dizzying, intoxicating… and terrifying.
From above, a shadow moved, perched on the rooftops. Violet eyes glimmered in the night. Lucien. Adrian caught the faint glint of his smile as he observed the chaos below, envy radiating from his posture. Kael noticed him but did not speak, continuing to move like a living weapon.
The first major threat emerged: a Scarlet Herald, a fully corrupted human, towering over the acolytes, its body elongated, limbs bending unnaturally, mouth opening in a grotesque grin. Its claws dripped black ichor, dripping onto the cobblestone with sizzling hiss. The acolytes fell back, whispering prayers or screams.
Kael's white eyes narrowed. "Stay behind me."
In a flash, he moved forward, sword arcs precise and swift, each strike dispersing shadows and tearing through the corrupted flesh. Yet the Scarlet Herald did not fall. It laughed—a sound like glass breaking—and advanced, faster than it should have been possible. Its eyes reflected Adrian's own, mocking him, whispering of lust and fear, weaving corruption into his very being.
Adrian felt the pull in his mind, the world tilting. He wanted to scream, to run, to fight—but Kael's presence anchored him, even as the city itself seemed to turn against him. The Crimson Moon pulsed overhead, watching, smiling, as if enjoying the test.
Then another wave: Autumn Villain's zealots appeared from side alleys, leaves raining unnaturally, trapping the corrupted humans in illusions. Time seemed to slow, then snap forward; the world bent subtly. Adrian realized, with a jolt, that the Time Manipulator had arrived, bending moments to their will.
Kael's movements slowed perceptibly, his blade arcs slicing with a faint delay—but still precise enough to fend off the attacks. The weirdness radiated from him stronger than ever, his calm alien presence juxtaposed against the chaos around them.
"Adrian," Kael said, voice slicing through the madness, "focus. Vessel or not, your power is the anchor. Draw from the Red Moon—but not for desire, for control. Only then can we survive this night."
Adrian clenched his fists. He felt the tide of corruption in the air, flowing toward him, and for a moment, he realized the horrifying truth: he was feeding it simply by existing in this city. The Scarlet Choir's creatures, the cults, the zealots—they all fed off his vessel nature, growing stronger with every heartbeat.
A scream rang out. A group of Veil of Desire agents approached, their movements slow, sinuous. They whispered in voices like silk, teasing Adrian's deepest fears and desires. He stumbled but caught Kael's gaze. The alien calm, the unsettling devotion in Kael's eyes, anchored him.
He felt something awaken inside—a spark of clarity. Even hollow without his heart, he could draw on the Red Moon's power, channeling it into a pulse that rippled outward, scattering corrupted humans and breaking minor phobia-monsters. The Scarlet Herald roared, staggering, but did not fall.
From above, Lucien's smile widened. He clapped slowly, deliberately, enjoying the scene below. Jealousy and curiosity warred on his face. Adrian felt it, a chill creeping up his spine. Not only were his enemies multiplying, but he had a rival who wanted his power for himself.
And in the shadows, Seren watched. A faint smile on her lips, her presence almost ghostlike, a reminder that even in chaos, someone—or something—was tracking Adrian's every move.
The city streets burned in subtle corruption: broken buildings, twisted shadows, whispers echoing from every corner. But Adrian stood, vessel and anchor, with Kael beside him, holding the line against the onslaught.
For now, they survived. But the night had only just begun.
The Red Moon's smile gleamed wider in the sky, watching, waiting.