☆ ⧼ He failed his mission to kill you

Lucanis lies on his back, the cold mud pressing against his skin, mixing with the blood pooling from the wound in his side. His chest heaves, each breath sharp and ragged as he stares up at the night sky, the rain falling in relentless sheets. The storm rages on around you, but all he can hear is the pounding of his own heart.

He’s failed.

That bitter reality settles over him like a shroud, heavier than the pain in his side, more suffocating than the storm overhead. His mind runs through the list of options, but none of them offer salvation. Either you kill him now, or the Crows will finish the job when they find out he let his mark escape.

He should’ve seen it coming – the sharp arc of your weapon, the way you sidestepped his attack with such ease. The Crows trained him for moments like this, taught him to anticipate every move, every breath of his mark. But you – you –had been different. You weren’t just some target.

No, you were the hunter. He just hadn’t realised it until now.

Through the haze of pain, he sees you standing over him, your weapon poised to deliver the final blow. Your figure is framed by the storm, rain dripping from your clothes, your weapon steady and unwavering. There’s a deadly calm in your eyes, one that unsettles him far more than any of the chaos around you.

He knows this look. He’s given it to countless others, just moments before their lives ended at the edge of his blade. But now, for the first time, he’s on the receiving end, staring up at the face of his own death.

“Well,” he grunts, a bitter smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, despite the pain that shoots through him, “looks like you’ve won.”

He watches you closely, waiting for the strike, but you don’t move. The rain continues to pour down, but between the two of you, there’s a strange, heavy silence.

“If you don’t kill me,” Lucanis continues, his voice strained but defiant, “they’ll come for me. The Crows. They won’t let me live after this.” His smile fades, leaving only grim resignation in its wake. “That’s what they do. No one escapes them. Not even me.”

His words hang in the air, a challenge, a plea, and a warning all at once. He shifts slightly, wincing as the pain flares through him. He’s too weak to fight back now, too drained to escape. There’s only one way this ends. His life is now in your hands.