Chapter 172: What's The Plan?

Ezra sat in his study, taking advantage of the moment of solitude.

He was enjoying the glass of blood wine he had in his hand when a sudden, unsettling sensation rippled through him.

It was as if a thread within his very soul had been plucked, sending a shiver down his spine.

He set the glass down and closed his eyes, focusing inward.

He delved deep into his soul, where the threads of his bonds with others were woven.

There, he found it. The thread of the blood oath connecting him to Veran. It was unraveling, fraying at an alarming rate.

Ezra followed the thread, tracing its path down to Veran.

The thread led him to the sight of Veran's soul flickering rapidly.

Ezra watched in horror as the soul shone brightly, like a final stand. The thread of the blood oath vibrated with a desperate intensity before snapping entirely.

Veran's soul began to disintegrate, dissolving into the void. A pulling force reached out from the void, trying to drag Ezra along.

Ezra reached out instinctively, trying to anchor himself as the pull of the void grew stronger. He clawed at the fraying thread leading back to his soul, holding on with all he had.

It took every ounce of the strength and willpower he possessed to resist the force tugging at his soul.

With a final, fierce effort, he managed to sever the connection, pulling himself back from the brink and slamming back into his physical body.

Gasping for breath, Ezra's eyes snapped open, the familiar surroundings of his study calming him from what he just experienced.

He'd been this close to dying.

He gripped the armrests of his chair, grounding himself as the reality of what this meant sank in.

Veran was dead.

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Ezra stood by the window in his study, staring but not seeing the view.

His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, each one leading on a tangent before jumping on another train of thought.

He shook himself back to reality. This was not the time for meandering thoughts.

Natalia had gone to Griffin's sanctuary, which meant they had a small window of opportunity to discuss their next moves without her prying eyes.

The door creaked open, and he turned to see Red, Olivia, and Gen enter, their faces reflecting the same urgency that he felt.

Without a word, Ezra deployed a black zone, making sure that they truly had absolute privacy. The shadows seemed to deepen, and a soft, pulsating barrier formed and solidified around them.

"Gen," Ezra turned to the woman who was just returning from her search, "what did you find?" He asked, his voice low and controlled.

Gen stepped forward, her expression serious. "It was Helena's peacekeepers who took the Blackthornes."

"What?" Red asked. Everyone in the room was just as surprised as she was.

"Yes. The peacekeepers ambushed them at the warehouse. The fight was short, brutal, and the Blackthornes were overwhelmed."

"Well," Ezra said in the ensuing silence, "this would be the perfect time to inform you all that Veran is dead."

A heavy silence settled over the room.

After a moment of silence, Red spoke. "If it really is Helena who killed Veran, then we can assume that she now has the location of the Ascension Well."

Gen crossed her arms, her eyes sharp and analytical. "So, what's the plan? Helena's got the information and we know she won't share. Griffin wants us to find the Blackthornes but they're now dead."

"Do we keep looking or do we tell Griffin they've left the city? Whatever it is we choose, we have to act fast."

Ezra nodded, his mind already formulating a strategy. "Don't worry." He smiled at the women in the room. "We can use this to our advantage."

**********

Helena drove her personal hovercar through Southside, the hum of the engine a steady companion to her thoughts.

After a few minutes of more driving, she arrived at her destination. The location of the Ascension well.

The old cathedral became visible up ahead, its ancient spires reaching towards the sky like skeletal fingers.

The stone structure, weathered by centuries, was covered in creeping ivy, and the large, stained-glass windows glinted faintly in the moonlight.

She parked her car and stepped out, the cool night air brushing against her skin.

She took a moment to compose herself, feeling the anticipation now that her goal was within reach.

The cathedral's heavy wooden doors creaked open as she pushed them, revealing a vast interior filled with the soft glow of candlelight. Rows of pews stretched towards the altar, and the scent of incense lingered in the air.

Her footsteps echoed on the stone floor as she made her way inside, her eyes scanning the space for any signs of life.

Near the altar, an elderly priest in a simple brown robe turned to face her, his expression one of mild curiosity. "Good evening, my child. How may I assist you?"

Helena offered a polite smile, her voice smooth and respectful. "Good evening, Father. I'm here to visit the crypt. I have an ancestor buried there, and I wish to pay my respects."

The priest nodded, understanding. "Of course. Please, follow me."

He led her through a side door and down a narrow staircase that spiraled into the depths of the cathedral.

The air grew cooler and more humid as they descended, the flickering torchlight casting long shadows on the stone walls. At the bottom, they entered the crypt, a somber space filled with ancient tombs and the faint whisper of history.

Helena paused, looking around. She could feel the change of vitality in the air. She was close. "Thank you, Father." She smiled softly at the man. "Could I have some time alone to grieve and reflect?"

The priest nodded, his eyes kind. "Take all the time you need, my child. May your ancestor rest in peace."

As the priest's footsteps faded away, Helena's demeanor shifted. Her polite facade dropped, replaced by a steely resolve.

She moved quickly, her eyes scanning the crypt for any signs of the concealed entrance Veran had mentioned. Her fingers traced the engravings on the tombs, searching for any irregularities.

Minutes passed, and frustration began to build. Then, her hand brushed against a section of the wall that felt different.

She pressed against it, and with a soft click, a hidden door swung open, revealing a narrow passageway leading further into the earth.

A small smile of anticipation crossed her face. She stepped into the passage, the stone walls closing in around her.

At the end of the passage, she found another door, this one covered in intricate runes and symbols. She reached for the handle, but as she touched it, the door glowed with a bright, golden light.

The heat of the light made her withdraw her hand in pain. She stared in shock. Her hand had almost been burned off.

She stared at the centermost symbol on the door. Her eyes widened in recognition and frustration.

It was a golden lock. One of the few made by the progenitor himself. A lock that could only be placed by the City Lord. It was a lock, a barrier preventing anyone from accessing the Ascension Well without permission.

Helena clenched her fists in anger. She was as closer than any other player had come.

The City Lord's involvement complicated things, but it was not an insurmountable obstacle. She would need to find a way to bypass the lock and claim the power that lay beyond it.

For now, she retreated, sealing the hidden door behind her. As she made her way back to her car, her resolve hardened. The Ascension Well was within her grasp, and she would not let anything, or anyone, stand in her way.