Fates Entwined

˜"*°•.˜"*°• •°*"˜.•°*"˜

                                 𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 7
         ~𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓓𝓪𝔀𝓷 𝓸𝓯 𝓞𝓾𝓻 𝓕𝓲𝓻𝓼𝓽 𝓜𝓲𝓼𝓼𝓲𝓸𝓷~

The day of our first mission arrived, and a mixture of excitement and dread coursed through my veins. Echo briefed us on the assignment, his voice low and steady as he outlined the target—a rival Mafia stronghold where we were to retrieve important information regarding their operations. Raven and I were to follow Echo closely, and I could sense the tension in the air as we prepared to leave.

As we approached the stronghold, the reality of our situation weighed heavily on me. We were stepping into a world where death was a constant companion, and loyalty meant everything. I glanced at Raven, who seemed a mix of apprehension and fierce determination. I knew he would do anything to survive, and I felt a flicker of hope that we could squeeze through this mission unscathed.

Once inside, we quietly navigated the dark corridors, Echo leading the way like a wolf guiding its pack. My heart raced as we moved deeper into hostile territory, adrenaline sharpening my senses. The place was alive with tension—every shadow seemed to hide danger, and every sound echoed with the potential for chaos.

But chaos was about to find us.

We stumbled upon a group of enemy Mafia members who had been alerted to our presence. A sudden fight erupted, and the air filled with shouts and the clash of fists. In the chaos, Raven found himself separated from me. I fought alongside Echo, trying to hold my ground, but I couldn't shake the feeling of dread as I glanced around for Raven.

Then I saw it happen: an enemy grabbed him and dragged him away, holding a knife to his throat while the others surrounded us. "Let him go!" I shouted, trying to break through the circle of opponents. But they laughed, the sound sharp and mocking.

In that moment of desperation, Raven's fear ignited something within him. As I struggled against the grappling hands of the enemy, I could see him fighting back, a fiery glow starting to envelop his body. Flames erupted from him, casting a warm light in the cold darkness of the stronghold. But something was wrong—he couldn't control it. The flames licked at him hungrily, consuming his skin even as he unleashed their power.

"Raven!" I screamed, thrashing against my captors. I fought to reach him, helplessly watching as the flames enveloped his small frame. Tears streamed down his face as he cried out, the heat burning through him faster than he could regenerate. I could see the pain etched across his features, claws of agony driving into my heart.

"Kill him!" one of the enemy members shouted, their eyes filled with glee as they raised their weapons against Raven. It felt as though time slowed, and the world around me narrowed to just one singular choice: I could either fight my way to Raven or let him suffer in flames while I stood paralyzed in fear.

In that heartbeat, a decision crystallized. Rage and desperation surged within me. I wouldn't let them take him from me. I wouldn't abandon him. I steeled myself, tightening my grip around the hilt of my sword, and turned my fury onto the enemy.

With swift precision, I lunged at the nearest assailant, my weapon slicing through the air. Blood splattered as I fought through their ranks, determination blazing brighter than ever before. Each movement was fueled by my need to protect Raven, to save him from the torment engulfing him. Bodies dropped around me; I could feel the thrill of battle overtaking me, but I pushed it aside—this was not about glory, it was about survival.

As I fought my way through the last of the opponents, I finally reached the point where Raven lay, his form crumpled on the ground. The flames had subsided, but his body was charred and burned, and his breathing was shallow—he was unconscious, and fear clawed at my insides.