"Run, run… RUN, RUN, OLIVER GET YOUR ASS OUT OF HEAR" was the only thing that Oliver could hear as he ran even though the sirens of the surrounding temples were blaring. The cobblestone streets of the city were slick with rain and the neon lights of the fleeing market stalls flickered like a desperate heartbeat. The air had the smell of fear and the acrid scent of burning incense from the nearby temples. Oliver's chest heaved as he ducked into a narrow alleyway, his heart pounding so loud he was sure it would give him away. He clutched the small bag of supplies tightly to his chest, the weight of his fate and the hope of survival feeling heavier with each passing moment.
He glanced over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of the robed figures pursuing him. Their faces were hidden by hoods, but he knew them all too well. The Toranth Enforcers had come for him again. The alley grew darker as the rain picked up, the buildings leaning in like they were whispering secrets to each other. The sound of their footsteps echoed off the ancient stones, growing closer with every second that passed. He knew he had to find a way out before he was caught. The government had been cracking down on nonbelievers like himself, and the consequences of capture were dire.
Oliver's mind raced as he scanned the alley, his eyes searching for any sign of escape. He spotted a rickety ladder leading up to a window, two stories above the ground. Without a second thought, he dashed towards it, his heart in his mouth. His hands trembled as he gripped the cold, wet rungs, every muscle in his body screaming for him to climb faster. The ladder groaned under his weight, threatening to give way. But he didn't stop. He couldn't. He had to get to the safety of the Resistance.
The Enforcers' shouts grew louder, the light from their torches piercing the alley's gloom. Oliver's boots slipped in the downpour, sending a cascade of rainwater down to the cobblestone below. He gritted his teeth and pushed himself harder, his arms burning with the effort. Finally, he reached the window. He threw the bag inside and hoisted himself up, feeling the wood of the sill give way slightly beneath him. The window was open, a faint light spilling out from within. He took a deep breath and dove in.
Landing in a crouch, Oliver found himself in a room that was surprisingly warm and dry. It was cluttered with ancient artifacts and scrolls, the walls lined with dusty bookshelves that creaked under their own weight. The smell of aged parchment filled the air, a stark contrast to the rain-soaked streets he'd just left behind. He took a moment to catch his breath, his eyes darting around the room, searching for any clue as to where he was. He recognized the symbol etched into the stone above the window: the Phoenix, emblem of the Resistance.
He heard the thud of boots on the cobblestones below, growing fainter as the Enforcers passed the alleyway. They hadn't seen him climb up. Not yet. He took a deep breath and pushed himself off the floor, the adrenaline still coursing through his veins. The room was dimly lit by candles that flickered like stars in the vast night sky. Carefully, he stepped over to the door and listened. There was no sound of pursuit from the other side, only the distant wail of sirens and the pitter-patter of rain.
Oliver knew he couldn't stay in one place for long. He had to find the others, to let them know the Enforcers were closing in. He slipped out into a hallway that seemed to stretch on forever, lined with more doors than he could count. The air grew thick with anticipation and dread. He tried the first door, finding it unlocked. It creaked open to reveal an empty chamber, the only sound the rain pattering against the windows. He moved swiftly, checking room after room, each one a silent tomb of forgotten knowledge.
Oliver comes to the final door. With a nervous sigh he gently pushes it open, the room is dusty; an unusual scent filled the room, a sweet aroma of a candle burning in the corner. He knew he had to get out, a burning candle meant people, and people meant enforcers. Oliver carefully stepped out of the room, watching for any traps placed among the floor boards. Once out of the room Oliver runs to the nearest window, without hesitating he slams his body through the glass and grabs onto the edge of the neighboring building.
Hours have passed since Oliver left the crumbled outskirts of the building; sitting on a ledge overlooking the once populated city he remembers the once bustling streets. After the second virus rampaged through the Toranth lands the majority of Toranth people stopped believing in the major god, 电辉月轮 (Diàn Huī Yuè Lún): a radiant moon who strikes down the shadows with brightness. The god was seen as kind and protective, she would guide souls to the afterlife and protect those in peril. Though her lack of answers to prayers brought the Toranth people to abandon their beliefs and live without the "shackles of religion".
Those who stopped believing and withdrew from the temples were slaughtered, those who weren't slaughtered were transformed into violent, rabid creatures. They lost their mind and rampaged, killing themselves and those around them. Not even the gods could save you from said virus. Once ten percent of the Toranth population had got the virus the temple leaders had taken all unaffected followers and hid them away. The nonbelievers were left to fend for themselves, eventually gaining a natural immunity to the virus.