Blood & Honour [Book Four of The City of Eternity Series] [✔]

4.5: Commotion

The screams were apparent from the moment I'd exited the darkened tunnel, tearing through the air and assaulting my senses. As I stood there, rooted to the spot by the scene unfolding before me, the face of a young girl caused a surge of determination to replace my initial horror. I exhaled a long breath, steeling myself for what lay ahead.

The air was mingling with the frenzied energy of dozens of people; a sight of chaos and fear seizing my heart and refusing to let go. The commotion was relentless, consuming the lobby with overlapping voices that sang like a symphony of anguish and desperation, punctuated by the occasional snarl or whimper from those too wounded to cry out. My blood ran cold as I took in the bruised and battered faces of both children and adults, each face told a story; etched with both physical and emotional scars. Most clamouring in each other's arms as they scanned the room with wary eyes.

In a city like this, one might expect screams to be as common as the air we breathe, simply from the nature of it. Yet, oddly enough, screams were a rarity, particularly in the confines of the Central Zone. Here, amidst the sleek facades of corporate towers and the imposing halls of justice, screams seemed out of place, almost taboo. If you found yourself venturing into this prestigious district, it was likely for the solemn purpose of business dealings or, perhaps more ominously, to face the judgement of the courts. If you wished to hear a scream bellowing from someone's chest, the highest chance, and possibly only chance, was to visit the execution garden.

Outside the confines of this grim garden, the atmosphere was one of cautious detachment. Visitors went about their affairs with a studied indifference, their interactions minimal. Different species mingled in uneasy proximity, each keeping to their own kind, a silent agreement born out of mutual distrust and wariness.

A realisation hit me like a physical blow: these were not cries of panic for show, but genuine, unbridled expressions of terror. It sent a shiver down my spine, the kind that triggers primal instincts buried deep within, urging either to confront the danger head-on or flee from it with all haste. Whatever was unfolding before us, it was significant, far beyond anything I had anticipated. I'd marched to the nearest window, frantically eyeing the courtyard and trying to understand what had occurred.

Dozens of guards stood rigid and alert, their stances tense, while others clutched desperately at the flesh of citizens, their actions betraying a desperate attempt to maintain control amid the chaos. Yet, even as they exerted their authority, the scene was one of mounting pandemonium. People farther from the central courtyard were scrambling towards the gates, driven by an instinctual need to escape whatever nightmare gripped the heart of the city. Within the throngs of fleeing citizens, pockets of panic formed and dissipated like storm clouds, leaving behind a wake of trembling bodies and anguished cries. Some collapsed to the ground, overcome by fear or exhaustion, their voices lost amidst the cacophony of chaos.

"Sebastian!" Gina had yelled over the noise, suddenly by my side and clutching my arm tightly, "We need you to help with some of the werewolves." It felt like I'd jumped out of my skin with the fright I'd been given. I'd turned with a hand on my chest, looking towards her as her eyes scanned the room. Even if Gina hadn't mentioned werewolves, anyone here would have been able to guess simply by sight that she was from the werewolf division of the building - the armband she was wearing was light green in colour, indicating she was a novice processor of werewolf related issues. My own armband was a dark green to indicate I was a senior processor - the darker the colour, the higher your rank.