Here’s a tip: if you ever find yourself sneaking into a death-worshipping cult’s hideout in the middle of the night, rethink your life choices.
Seriously.
I was doing just that kneeling next to Royce and Adrian on the outskirts of the old train station, staring at the Scourge’s territory, which looked like the set of a horror movie someone forgot to turn the lights on for. Fires flickered from rusted braziers, casting shadow-puppets of doom on crumbling concrete pillars. Creepy chanting echoed across the field, like the worst meditation retreat imaginable.
“Remind me again,” Adrian muttered, “why we didn’t wait for morning?”
“Because morning’s when people expect you,” I said, narrowing my eyes toward the half-collapsed buildings crawling with robed freaks. “Also, the element of surpris
