As night came, all the mercenaries were asleep already. Reynold was the sole one still awake, using time as best as he could to plan and prepare himself. This mission meant everything for him, he couldn't fail again. After all, since little, his mind was filled with dreams of grandeur and a magnanimous future. Not sure from where this obsession came from, he nevertheless kept focused on his path to greatness.

It wasn't about the money, not at all, what most mattered to him was the fame. To be a memorable person, a legend amongst common men. That's why, when the chance to capture a renowned criminal befell onto his hands, he felt like the heavens have bestowed their blessing on him. Being the superstitious man that he was, he had the belief that he was born with a destiny of glory.

So when they failed in the first delve into the sewers, he couldn't believe it. How could he fail? Wasn't he supposed to be victorious?

More and more doubts surged in his mind as his subordinates gave up on the bounty. How could they? It was a clear sign of insolence and betrayal to him. It wasn't about the fear for their lives, not for Reynold. For him, it was the affirmation that they didn't trust his leadership.

And the cherry of the cake... Aymon. He dared to lead his lackeys, to disrupt his authority.

"What do you take me for?" Reynold spat on the mirror as he envisioned Aymon's death.

In his devious plans, it seemed a flawless crime. Killed by the Sewers' Rodent, who could shift the blame to Reynold? He was sure he could perform it without a hitch, it wouldn't be his first victim after all.

A smile crept up to his face as he stared at the mirror, there he saw images of a successful man being applauded by a huge crowd.

While his underlings were worried about getting the money, Reynold's concerns were well out of everyday life, of the material world. Moreover, being the son of a lesser noble, it didn't matter to him anyway.

"Tomorrow is a big day. Don't fuck it up." He said to himself before going to his bed.

Morning soon came, uncaring about what would happen or what could accur, it just dawned upon Northwood.

Curiously, most men woke up with a startle. Sweat bathed them as they stirred from their deepest nightmares - the unknown. Humans' most primal fear is the foreign, things which their minds can't comprehend or glimpse. But now, they were probing into a dark place while searching for an unknown enemy - it could be human, or it could be something else altogether.

Whatever it was, they didn't know its shape or face. The only knowledge they had was that it could kill many men at once. It lived in places without light and didn't emit a sound.

Facing a shapeless and lethal being, they struggled to envision it. But they couldn't come with anything, instead being left with the unnamable and indescribable.

"I want the elemental mages prepared for anything. Don't hesitate in using your spells - be it lightning or fire. Oh, and don't let under any circumstances the torch's fire spread." Reynold said to the two young men at the back.

Aymon thought about the uncountable possibilities which could go wrong in a moist and highly inflammable place such as a sewer. And yet, he refrained from saying anything. He had already been warned about insubordination. Hopefully, those wizards had some common sense in their head.

"I want Lizzie and Piers at the flanks. The mages stay in the middle holding the torches, while cleric Solomon will watch our back." He methodically ordered them, analyzing their weak spots and weaknesses.

Tilting his head, Aymon asked confused, "What about me?"

"You stay by my side, at the front lines." He smirked.

They promptly marched into the sewers, carefully taking their steps towards the center. Every single one of them had a reason for their voyage into the cryptic structure, though most didn't have a noble cause like Aymon did.

Greed was the moving force of humankind after all, even in the direst situations. Heitor wasn't an exception to the rule as well. He wanted power, power so he could stop crawling on the floor and instead walk without fear.

Truthfully, even Aymon wasn't an exemption. He could very well find a job in Northwood and still live a quiet life with Rosaline. Tomas' death would be avenged no matter the case if he was there or not. No, he was putting himself at risk for the money. And deep inside he knew it.

Holding out his hand, Reynold said, " We will clear this section of the tunnels first." Pointing at two tunnels he commanded with a low voice, "I want one mage at each team. Aymon, you come with me. The others go right."

Immediately, they efficiently sorted themselves, no questions asked. When with the light to unravel the dark, it all worked without a mishap. Heitor didn't have a chance to ambush or sneak into their ranks. Fortunately or unfortunately, that wasn't his plan in the first place.

An hour passed as they mechanically searched all tunnels next to the exit. For a slight moment, it occurred to them the thought that who they were looking for wasn't there anymore. It was for a single bit though.

Reynold heard a light scurry of feet in the wet ground, sounding in the far distance.

Putting his finger onto his lips, he motioned to the noise's direction. Aymon understood what he meant and started following it.

Just like their counterparts, the slugs and frogs, they continued silent. Aymon felt that the more they got closer to it, the more they were being lead into a trap. There was this conflict in his mind - while his gut feeling told him he should warn the others, his pragmatic side told otherwise.

It should be fear playing games with him, always proposing the worst of possible outcomes. Shaking his head, he focused on making no sounds. Then, in a far-off flickering light, they saw a human silhouette leaning onto the wall.

It was him - they assumed. As slowly as humanly possible they approached the man from behind. When just a few meters away, Aymon let loose an arrow right at his expose nape, and it hit.

He fell to the floor like a ragdoll. They immediately ran towards his body to confirm the death.

"What?" Reynold muttered as he rounded around the body.

It was Louis' body. Well, what remained of it at least. Something seemed to have sucked him dry, and now slugs covered him. Some even slithered inside his throat, delving into the unexplored. Furthermore, they discovered the source of the flickering light. The rest of their group was lead there as well.

"You too?" Solomon asked with rising dread. They willingly walked right into a trap.

By then, Aymon's gut was screaming at him to do something. Out of nowhere, the air shifted and the torches lit brighter. The flames rose into the air, never seeming to stop.

Finally, with a pit in his stomach, Aymon realized their mistake. They've brought light to a place where no light was permitted, and now they would pay for it. What was their advantage would instead be their downfall.

Heitor hid in the greywaters, just close enough to be able to control the torch's blaze. It only took a slight push for the flames to go out of control.

Aymon and Reynold acted as fast as they could, running towards safety. Yet, it was too late. Quick chemical reactions happened between the sewer gas and the fire, resulting in a thunderous explosion. The first ones to be engulfed by the fire were the elemental mages holding the torches. Next were Lizzie, Piers, and Solomon.

Aymon and Reynold who were just seconds away from the water were rocketed towards the walls. Luckily, their limp bodies fell in the water before the flames reached them.

Falling into the dirty water, conscious failed them.

Heitor swam towards them, dragging them to the shore.

"Perfect." He said out loud, his sister appearing from a nearby wall.

"Do you think these sacrifices will do?" She asked as she stared at the charcoal remains.

Laying the book on the floor, he innocently shrugged his shoulders, "Let's find out."

Immediately, they got their answer. No. Karacatoa only accepted blood.

"Well, at least we have one right there." Agatha said while pointing at Reynold, "That one is already awake."

"Oh, that's too bad." Heitor sighed before going towards him.

Reynold tried crawling but his legs were broken. Tears falling from his soken eyes, he couldn't believe what was about to happen. His death would be by the hands of a madman who talked to himself, in an unremarkable filthy sewer. He wasn't destined, he finally discovered the shocking truth.

With time, he would wither away from history into insignificance, just like a penniless farmer. His existence would be remembered by no one. He was just a speck of dust in the great scheme of things.

Instantly, he stopped struggling. He stared at the floor as he realized his nothingness.

Why even struggle? In the end, he would continue to be a blank spot in the universe.

Existence didn't have meaning or purpose.