Crown On My Head

chapter 20

Port of souls                                  Lacey

After a month in the haven under the bridge those entrees chose random colours to clothe themselves even in the morning. We got our first hired heist. Some art collectors say he was scared out of what he played for. Doorlan said they always overcompensated the story. A job was a job here.

Doorlan plans the heist.

The grand museum, shrouded in the stillness of the night, echoed with the hushed whispers of history. However, tonight, its tranquillity would be shattered as we step foot on its unsuspecting halls. Our objective: an artefact with the power to sway the tides of fate. Some art things.

Doorlan, led our silent march through the dimly lit corridors. Tall columns holding the structure of glamour and power. The flickering security lights cast dancing shadows as we navigated the labyrinthine layout. Simon moved with silent grace, scouting the surroundings.

a relic encased in glass, bathed in the eerie glow of a dim spotlight. It was said to hold mystical powers that could tip the balance between tidal waves. Our client's interest was far from artistic, but wealth had a way of blinding moral considerations of the power they could hold.

"Krin, Lacey, you're on crowd control," Doorlan whispered, his eyes gleaming with the thrill of the impending heist. Krin and I exchanged a nod, knowing our roles well. The quiet tension of anticipation hung in the air.

As the first tendrils of doorlans shadow powers he wouldn't talk about crept along the floor, weaving through the darkness, the museum's security was none the wiser. Meanwhile, I posed as an ordinary museum-goer in the dark of the night, blending seamlessly with the handful of night owls wandering the exhibits.

Suddenly, an unexpected disturbance – an unknown factor not considered, drawn by the allure of the artefact, emerged from the shadows. Their eyes glinted with lust as they locked onto the same prize. A rival group, eager to claim the artefact for themselves.

The atmosphere tensed, the museum's serenity shattered by the clash of intentions. Our rivals moved with calculated precision, revealing themselves as formidable adversaries. The dance between shadows and dim light intensified.

With a silent signal from Doorlan, our group dispersed, each Phantom Syndicate member engaging in a strategic skirmish. Simon, his eyes ablaze, confronted the adversaries head-on, using the raw strength of a to gain the upper hand. Bomb, the explosive expert, darted through the shadows, creating diversions that left our rivals disoriented. As smoke rises filling the air.

Amidst the chaos, Krin and I faced our own adversaries. The rival thieves, equally adept in the art of stealth, moved with fluid grace. Krin's shadow tendrils clashed with their calculated moves, each side vying for control over the ever-shifting battlefield.

In the heart of the skirmish, I found myself exchanging swift strikes with an agile opponent. Our blades met in a symphony of clashes, shadows dancing around us. The scent of ancient artefacts mingled with the metallic tang of conflict.

With precision born of relentless training, Krin and I seamlessly switched between defence and offence. The rival thieves, realising they faced adversaries of equal skill, unleashed a barrage of aerobatic manoeuvres. I thank Doorlan for the lessons i think i would be on the floor. The museum, now a battlefield of skill and shadows, bore witness to the silent struggle. The portraits and painting watching a show the most action they have ever witnessed.

A fleeting moment of calm settled over the exhibit as the adversaries assessed each other, breaths held in anticipation. A dagger meets my face, slicing it. I let out a scream as it came back. the pain burning more than ever. I had fallen and hurt myself. this pain was like nothing i had ever felt. I feel a burning sensation running through my neck. like a live flame seeking a victim to turn to ash. In the stillness, Doorlan's voice cut through the air like a whisper.

"Retreat," he commanded, a decision to avoid unnecessary confrontation and ensure the artefact remained elusive to all. Our rivals hesitated for a moment, then retreated into the shadows from whence they came.

As the rival thieves faded into darkness, we regrouped. The shadows embraced us once more, and with a silent exit, we melted back into the night, leaving the museum to return to its peaceful slumber, its secrets intact for another night.

But we carried extra artefacts of ours.