153 DORIN'S DANCE
Dorin was pushed into a large suite by Noreis.
The room was draped in dark, gothic décor — crimson curtains, black candles, and polished restraints hanging from the walls like trophies.
"Are you sure about this, Noreis? It looks like a torture chamber," Dorin said, unease creeping into her voice.
"Don't worry," Noreis laughed lightly. "They're just props …It's just a part of the atmosphere."
The air was heavy with a sweet, floral scent. Dorin's head buzzed faintly, her pulse quickening.
A soft voice crackled through her comm.
"Control yourself. There's hallucinogen in the air," Lander warned.
"I know," Dorin whispered under her breath. "I dosed an antidote booster before I came."
The haze thickened. Noreis giggled, swaying unsteadily, her pupils wide. The drug was hitting her hard.
"Come on, Dorin… don't be shy," she murmured, tugging at her own clothes. "Join me."
"This is a big mistake," Dorin muttered, taking a step toward the door.
Before she could touch the handle, it slammed open.
A tall man filled the doorway — wrapped in a black, rubber-tight suit that gleamed under the red lights. A cockerel mask hid his face, the beak catching the glow like a blade.
He stepped forward without a word, the door closing behind him with a heavy click.
The man in the cockerel mask stepped closer, his voice low and mocking.
"Going somewhere? You think you can walk out now after you joined my show?"
Dorin raised her hands, trying to stay calm. "Look, this is a mistake. I'll pay whatever, but I'm leaving."
"Too late for that," he said, lunging.
Dorin tried to dodge, but he moved fast—he was trained. He slammed a control on the wall, and magnetic cuffs shot out, clamping around her wrists before she could react.
"Hey!" Dorin struggled. "Let me go!"
The masked man tilted his head, the dim light gleaming off his visor. "Usually, we would indulge our customers who change their minds. But not tonight."
Her earpiece crackled with Lander's voice: "Dorin, what's happening? Do you need extraction?"
"Now!" she hissed. "Get me out, now!"
The man suddenly stepped back and raised his hands.
"There's no pleasure in compulsion," he said calmly. "I understand that… but I need your help."
Dorin blinked, still tense. "Help? With what?"
"I need you to assist me in completing a dance ritual," he said.
"A dance ritual?" she echoed, incredulous.
"Yes. All you need to do is dance with me. Let yourself enjoy the atmosphere."
"Get away from me", she screamed.
"Don't worry, I won't touch you. I don't have to… it's just a Cosplay," he replied.
"Are you serious?"
"Of course," he replied smoothly. "We're a legitimate business."
With a soft click, the cuffs around Dorin's wrists were released.
The man took her hand and guided her toward Noreis, who was already swaying to the slow rhythm under the colored lights.
"Just give yourself to the mood," he said. "That's all it takes."
Dorin hesitated, but she was curious.
Lander's voice crackled through her comm.
"Damen's at the door. If anything happens, just scream — he'll move in."
Dorin nodded slightly and began to dance beside Noreis, who was already lost to the incense and hypnotic music.
The man in the cockerel mask began to move too, his steps deliberate, his voice low as he chanted strange words that echoed in the room.
Lander's voice came again, hushed but urgent. "He's chanting about the power of trinity. Maybe his ritual needs three people to complete."
Dorin's mind started to blur despite the antidote. The haze was thick, pulsing with sound and color.
Then the man's chant grew louder, sharper and feverish.
"Reveal to me, Rewind Sisters!"
He spun in place, his arms raised high, the air vibrating with energy.
"Rewind Sisters! Rewind Sisters! Rewind Sisters!"
In the surveillance van, Lander's hands flew across his keyboard.
"He's trying to locate the Rewind Sisters… through a psychic ritual!"
Suddenly the masked man screamed. "I'm not getting a location!" His eyes snapped to Dorin, furious.
"You're not concentrating enough!"
Before he could move again, the door exploded open.
A hand, fast and precise, grabbed him by the throat and slammed him into the wall.
"Who are you?" the man choked. "Why did you disrupt my ritual?"
Lander's voice barked through the comm: "Dorin, move! Get the hell out of there — now!"
The command snapped her out of her trance.
Dorin turned and bolted from the suite as the lights flickered and the masked man struggled against Damen's grip.
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"You're the infamous Black Cock or Coracle?" Damen asked.
The man laughed, relief and bravado mixed in his voice. "Finally—someone actually found me. Yes. I won't deny it. I'm Coracle, leader of the Order of the Black Cock..erel."
"Good. Now die," Damen said.
"Wait—" Coracle pleaded. "Are you an assassin? Let's talk. We can pay—"
Dozens of rubber-suited androids surged through the door behind him, flanking a woman who moved with dangerous calm.
Liorea, Coracle's assitant, stepped forward. "If it's money you want, we'll give it. We're a legitimate business."
"Legitimate?" Damen spat. "By placing a hit on me—twice?"
Coracle's eyes widened as recognition hit. "You… I've seen your face before. The student who got away."
"Yes. Damen Dark." He kept his voice flat.
Damen's Vision Connect ran a scan and displayed the readout in his mind:
Name: Coracle of the Order of Black Cockerel
Strength Rank: E Meta Rank: F Psychic Rank: B
Strength: 85 | Charm: 868 | Meta: 42 | Command: 42
Damen frowned.
Coracle was physically weak and low on meta power …. but his Charm score was astronomical, and that gave him a powerful Psychic Rank.
"Damnit. He's a Rank B Psychic," he thought.
Memories of Sienna and the last psychic confrontation with her sharpened his focus. Fighting a psychic meant striking first and striking hard.
He didn't hesitate.
Damen slammed his palm into the nearest wall.
Sound-waves tore the suite apart, shuddering through the building; plaster rained down and the ceiling groaned. The androids faltered as dust and debris filled the air.
Liorea shouted, "We'll pay you any amount you want.. just release our boss!"
"Money?" Damen sneered. "I want blood."
He surged forward and struck Coracle.
Flesh and bone gave under the force. Coracle coughed with blood leaking as his organs collapsed inward from the blow.
"Momentum Collapse," Damen muttered as if naming a technique.
Coracle slumped, unconscious.
Damen reached for the final move.
He pressed Drain — feeling the essence untangled as life force from Coracle began to flow toward him.
But the pull was reversed mid-way. A hard shove flung him back.
A figure stepped between him and the fallen Coracle.
Sienna stood there, composed …. and every molecule of the room seemed to quiet at her presence.
"Enough."
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