Embrace of the void

After a tense interval, the two captives stirred and began to regain consciousness, blinking against the dim light filtering through the trees. Confusion clouded their eyes as they took in their surroundings and the figures standing over them.

Nyxar stepped forward, his demeanor resolute. "Listen closely. I will ask the questions, and you will answer. If you choose not to cooperate, I assure you that you will die. Is that clear?"

The two men exchanged startled glances, their expressions a mix of fear and bewilderment. They struggled to comprehend the gravity of their situation.

"Who are you? Why did you attack us? Do you even know who we are?" One of them stammered, his voice trembling. "Are we going to die?"

In response, Michael stepped closer, his hand crackling with electricity as he covered it with a shimmering layer of lightning. He placed his hand on the man who had spoken, eliciting a sharp scream of pain as the electric shock coursed through him.

"Say another word, and I will end you," Michael warned, his voice cold and unyielding.

Nyxar maintained his unrelenting gaze on the two men, his questions pressing. "Now, tell us your names."

The first man, still reeling from the shock, managed to gasp, "My name is Jack Watterson, and this is Darren Stone. We were ordered to monitor this village."

Nyxar's sharp eyes narrowed. "Who gave you that order?"

Jack hesitated, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face. "We're from the Black Mamba Gang. Our leader directed us to keep an eye on this village."

Michael and Nyxar exchanged a surprised glance because they knew this gang well.

"Why would your leader send you here?" Michael pressed, curiosity and suspicion intertwining in his tone.

Jack swallowed hard, his throat dry. "All I know is that he received a request from one of his allies."

Michael's mind raced as he absorbed this information. "Do you have any idea that the people of this village are gone?" he inquired, a sense of urgency in his voice.

"I don't know," Jack replied, shaking his head. "When we arrived, it was completely empty."

Michael's thoughts raced. "It seems there's a connection between the Black Mamba Gang and the Crimson Hand Alliance," he communicated to Nixar through their telepathic link.

Nyxar considered this carefully. "Assuming he's telling the truth, it appears the Crimson Hand Alliance has tasked the Black Mamba Gang with monitoring the village. Given that these two are weaklings, it suggests that the gang sent them as mere expendables to test the waters. Should we eliminate them?"

Michael weighed the options, his mind calculating the risks. "They've seen our faces. We can't afford to leave them alive. Their knowledge could be a liability."

Nyxar nodded, understanding the gravity of their predicament. "What's your plan, then?"

Michael's expression hardened as he contemplated their next move. "We need to ensure they cannot reveal our identities. But we also need to gather more information. Let's ask them about their operations, their connections, and any other relevant details before deciding their fate."

Michael refocused on Jack and Darren, his determination palpable. "Let's start with what you know about the Black Mamba Gang's operations. How many members are there, and who are their key leaders?"

Jack looked between his companion and Michael, fear etched into his features. "I—I don't know all the details. There are a lot of us, but the leaders keep things tight-lipped. The main ones are Tom and his right-hand man, Max. They never share information with the lower ranks, just orders."

Nyxar leaned in closer, his eyes narrowing. "What kind of orders? What is the purpose of monitoring this village?"

Jack swallowed hard, trying to gather his thoughts. "Tom mentioned something about a potential alliance... something big brewing among the orc tribes. He said the Black Mamba Gang needed to stay informed because the Crimson Hand is orchestrating something significant."

"An alliance between the Crimson Hand and the Black Mamba Gang?" Michael echoed, his mind racing. "And the orcs are merely followers under their control? That's troubling. What else can you tell us?"

Darren, still recovering from the shock, piped up, "I overheard them talking about how the Crimson Hand plans to use the orcs to extend their influence. They're gathering strength, and the Black Mamba Gang is supposed to help facilitate that."

Michael exchanged a glance with Nyxar, their unease palpable. "This explains the connection we suspected. The Crimson Hand is manipulating the orc tribes, using the Black Mamba Gang as their muscle."

Nyxar, sensing the urgency, pressed on. "What else can you tell us about their plans? Where and when is this alliance supposed to solidify?"

Jack hesitated, fear evident in his eyes. "I don't know the exact time, but they mentioned an old ruin deep in the forest. It's a sacred place for the orcs, and they said it would be the perfect spot for a gathering to finalize their alliance."

Michael's mind raced with possibilities. "We need to get there before they do. If the Crimson Hand is solidifying their control over the orcs, we have to intervene."

Nyxar nodded in agreement. "But what about these two? They've seen us; we can't let them go."

Michael felt a surge of conflict. "We could let them go with a warning. If they report back, they might not know enough to cause us trouble. But if we kill them, we risk drawing more attention to ourselves."

Jack, sensing the tension, spoke up hastily. "Please, we won't say a word! We just want to go home! We didn't want to get involved in anything dangerous."

Michael considered this, weighing the risks against the potential benefits. "If we let you go, you must promise to keep your mouths shut about us. If we hear otherwise, I will find you, and I won't be merciful."

Both men nodded vigorously, relief flooding their faces. "We promise! We'll keep quiet!"

"Then go," Michael commanded, gesturing toward the forest. "And don't look back."

As Jack and Darren scrambled to their feet and hurried away, Michael felt a mix of satisfaction and unease. He had extracted valuable information, yet the decision to let them go nagged at him.

"Raven, create two duplicates of yourself to remain with us while you follow them. If you observe either of them attempting to report our presence in any way, eliminate them immediately and then retreat. We cannot afford any loose ends."

"Let's move," he said to Nyxar, determination steeling his resolve. "We need to reach those ruins before it's too late."

Nyxar nodded, his excitement palpable. "I'm ready. Let's find out what Tom and Max are planning with the Crimson Hand."

With Vragoth, Morgoth, Raijin, and Sylas at their side, they set off into the depths of the forest, the weight of their discoveries fueling their urgency. Michael could not get rid of the impression that they were entering a much bigger game as they made their way through the trees, one that might change the course of the orc tribes and beyond.

As they approached the rumored location of the meeting, Michael activated his Ethereal Link with Raven once more. "Raven, can you scout ahead and report back?"

"On it," came Raven's voice in his mind. "I'll keep my distance and let you know what I find."

With their path now clearer, Michael and Nixar pressed onward, hearts racing with anticipation. They were on the brink of uncovering a conspiracy that could change everything.