Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Descent

The air was stifling, thick with the acrid scent of ash and decay. The sun hung low, its pale light doing little to pierce the oppressive gray sky. Arlen trudged through the wasteland, her boots kicking up plumes of dust with each step. She had walked for days without seeing another soul, the silence pressing in on her like a weight she couldn't shake.

Her body ached, her left arm glowing faintly with the shard's energy. The limb felt less like hers every day, its strength both a gift and a curse. Her grip on the knife at her side was tight, her knuckles white from tension. The shard pulsed in her chest, a steady rhythm that matched her heartbeat.

"You're stronger now. Keep going."

Arlen hated that voice, but it was hard to argue with it. She had to be strong. She had to survive.

The settlement's mocking words still echoed in her mind, a chorus of scorn she couldn't escape.

Weak. Worthless. A burden.

Ahead, three figures appeared on the horizon, silhouetted against the smoky sky. Scavengers.

She recognized the way they moved, the weapons they carried—a mix of crude spears and a worn-out rifle. Her stomach twisted. She could try to avoid them, to skirt around their path unnoticed. But the shard's glow brightened, urging her forward.

"*Prove yourself. Stop running."*

She faltered, her steps slowing. Every instinct screamed at her to turn back. She didn't want to fight. She didn't want to kill.

But then she thought of the settlement, of the children who had laughed at her and the elders who had turned their backs. She thought of the whispers, the pointed fingers, the disdain in their eyes. The anger bubbled up inside her, hotter than the shard's glow.

"No more," she muttered under her breath.

The scavengers noticed her before she could decide what to do. They shouted to each other, their voices cutting through the heavy air.

"Hey! You there!" one of them called, his spear raised.

Another laughed. "Looks like we've got a little lost rat!"

Arlen froze, her grip tightening on her knife.

"Better come quietly," the leader said, his rifle slung lazily over his shoulder. His scarred face twisted into a grin. "We won't hurt you.. much."

Her breath quickened. She glanced at the shard-infused arm, its glow intensifying as if feeding off her fear. The shard whispered again, louder this time. 

"*You can take them. You're not weak anymore.*" 

"I don't want any trouble," she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

The leader chuckled. "Oh, you're gonna get trouble, sweetheart. Hand over that fancy glowing arm, and maybe we'll let you go."

The other two laughed, closing in on her. Arlen's pulse raced. She knew what they would do. Even if she gave up the shard, they wouldn't let her walk away alive.

She tightened her grip on her knife, her voice trembling as she warned, "Stay back."

The leader's grin faltered, replaced by a scow.

"You've got guts, I'll give you that. But guts don't mean shit out here."

He signaled to his men. "Take her."

The first man lunged with a spear, and Arlen barely dodged in time. The shard flared to life, guiding her movements as if it had taken control of her body, akin to a puppet on a string. She swung her knife, the blade cutting deep into the man's side. He screamed in pain and terror, collapsing to the ground.

Her heart pounded as the second man attacked.

His spear grazed her arm, tearing through fabric and flesh. Pain shot through her, but it felt distant, muted. The shard burned brighter, its power overriding everything in her body and mind.

She shoved the pain aside, stepping forward with a strength she didn't recognize. Her knife found its mark again, and the second man shouted in agony before crumpling to the ground.

The leader cursed, raising his rifle. Arlen froze, her breath catching in her throat.

The shard surged.

"He'll kill you if you don't stop him. Do it now."

Arlen hesitated, her hands shaking. She could feel the weight of the shard's power, the way it demanded action. But this wasn't who she was. She didn't want to be a killer. 

The leader aimed, his finger on the trigger.

"I don't want to do this," Arlen whispered, her voice cracking.

The shard's whisper turned into a roar. "*Then die. Is that what you want*?"

Time seemed to slow as she lunged forward. Her left arm, glowing with an unholy light, grabbed the barrel of the rifle. The metal seared against her skin, but she didn't let go.

The leader's eyes widened in shock. "What the hell are you?"

She didn't answer. Her grip tightened, and with a strength that wasn't hers, she wrenched the rifle from his hands. The weapon clattered to the ground as the shard's energy coursed through her.

The leader stumbled back, his hands raised in surrender. "Wait—please! I didn't mean it. I... I was just trying to survive!"

Arlen hesitated, her knife trembling in her hand.

His words cut deep, echoing her own fears.

"Please," he begged, his voice breaking. "I have a family... I'm just like you."

Her grip loosened, the weight of the knife almost too much to bear. For a moment, hesitation seeped in. She could walk away. She didn't have to do this. But the shard wouldn't let her.

"*No mercy. Mercy is weakness. Mercy will kill you.*" Its voice laced with poison, corrupting Arlen’s mind.

Her arm moved before her mind could stop it. Her metallic fingers closed around his throat, squeezing with a strength that made her stomach churn.

He gasped, his hands clawing at her arm. "No... please..."

Tears blurred her vision. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

The shard pulsed one final time, sending a surge of power to her grip and the man went limp.

When it was over, Arlen fell to her knees, her body trembling. Blood stained her hands, her clothes, the ground beneath her.

She stared at the lifeless bodies, her mind racing with guilt and horror. The shard whispered softly, its tone almost soothing.

"*You're stronger now. This is what it takes.*"

Arlen's tears fell freely as she whispered back, "I didn't want this. I didn't want any of this."

But the shard didn't answer.

And deep down, she knew the shard didn't care.

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