LEVEL EVERYTHING UP in my Eldritch Tribe

Lyerin lay motionless, with his body limp and his eyes unfocused.

The Eldren Mana within him surged, allowing him to control his body's reactions. His breathing slowed to a barely perceptible level, and his heartbeat mimicked the erratic, slowing rhythm of a dying man.

Blood trickled from the wound, but Lyerin managed to stem the flow, manipulating the Eldren Mana to control the bleeding just enough to appear dead.

His chest stilled, and his eyes were glazed over.

He was the picture of death, yet fully aware of every sound, every movement around him.

Above him, the camera still hovered, its lens trained on his lifeless form.

Lyerin's senses were hyper-attuned to the buzzing sound it emitted, his awareness reaching out to ensure his deception was flawless.

The Eldren Mana surged within him, weaving a delicate balance between the appearance of death and the need to remain ready for action.

He knew that any sign of life would alert the watchers.

He could feel the eyes on him, the cold, detached gaze of those who controlled the camera from afar.

Inside a nearby barracks, the man in the military uniform and the doctor watched the feed with satisfaction.

The soldier laughed, a harsh, grating sound that echoed in the small room. "Not even having social awareness. What a stupid Halfling," he sneered, taking a sip of his drink as he leaned back in his chair.

The doctor chuckled, shaking his head. "They never learn, do they? Always so desperate, so clueless." He tapped a few buttons on the console, zooming in on Lyerin's still body. "Well, they are halflings, they are not that important. And this… this is what they get."

With that, they turned their attention elsewhere, leaving Lyerin's image on the monitor, unmoving, forgotten.

Back on the street, the crowd that had gathered around Lyerin's body began to disperse.

Some murmured in low voices, shaking their heads as they passed by the "dead" halfling.

Others simply looked on with blank expressions, accustomed to the harsh realities of their world.

One by one, they walked away, until Lyerin was left alone.

When the last set of footsteps faded into the distance, Lyerin's eyes flickered open. He scanned the area, ensuring that no one was left watching.

The haze in the sky, the flying camera that had been his silent observer, was finally gone.

Lyerin allowed himself a small, grim smile. The facade had worked.

Slowly, carefully, he rose to his feet, the Eldren Mana working to heal the wound as he stretched his limbs, testing them for any lingering stiffness.

He rolled his neck, a series of satisfying cracks following the motion, then glanced up at the sky. The haze had shifted, moving towards a distant point on the horizon.

Lyerin's expression hardened as he stared after it. "It's time to take mother," he muttered under his breath. He could no longer afford to waste time.

The wound on his side throbbed, but Lyerin ignored it. He could still feel the pressure of the bullet, but the pain was nothing compared to the determination now fueling him.

Each step he took was calculated, deliberate, with his mind already working through the myriad possibilities and dangers that awaited him.

He moved through the city with purpose, blending into the shadows, avoiding the gaze of any patrolling soldiers or wandering civilians.

His thoughts were laser-focused on his mother, held captive by the very family that had discarded him and other halflings like trash.

The urgency of the mission pumped through his veins like a second heartbeat, faster and more insistent than the one that kept him alive.

The haze in the sky grew more distant, but Lyerin knew exactly where it was headed. He could sense the familiar pull of Eldren Mana, drawing him like a magnet to the place he dreaded most. ҽҳрƹ#г*ί-е$пς!ƹ-#

The Borgias Family compound was a fortress, designed to keep enemies out and secrets in. But Lyerin had no intention of knocking on the front door.

As he approached the outskirts of the compound, Lyerin slowed his pace.

The perimeter was heavily guarded, as he had expected, with watchtowers and roving patrols. He crouched behind a crumbling wall, his mind racing with potential strategies.

Infiltration was his specialty, a skill honed over centuries of surviving in a world that was harsher than hell.

He closed his eyes, drawing upon the Eldren Mana within him, letting it sharpen his senses.

The guards' movements became predictable patterns, the gaps between their patrols widening in his mind. He would need to be swift, precise.

One misstep, and the entire compound would be alerted to his presence.

A plan began to form, intricate and risky, but Lyerin was nothing if not bold. He would slip through their defenses, a shadow among shadows, and reach the heart of the compound where his mother was held.

There, he would retrieve her, and together, they would escape this cursed place.

But first, he needed a diversion.

Lyerin scanned the area, his eyes falling on a fuel depot near the eastern wall of the compound.

It was heavily guarded, of course, but that was precisely what made it the perfect target. He could use the Eldren Mana to create a controlled explosion, just enough to draw the guards away from his intended path.

With a final, determined glance at the compound, Lyerin made his move. He slipped through the shadows like a wraith, his presence unnoticed by the guards above.

The fuel depot loomed before him, a cluster of tanks and pipes that would serve as his entry ticket.

He reached out with his mind, connecting with the Eldren Mana in the air around him, coaxing it into the delicate machinery.

The explosion, when it came, was a sharp, contained blast.

Flames licked at the sky, smoke billowing up in thick, black plumes.

Alarms blared as the guards rushed to contain the fire, their attention diverted just as Lyerin had planned.

He moved quickly, using the chaos to slip past the guards, his footsteps silent on the cold, hard ground.

The compound's walls were high, but Lyerin scaled them with ease, his body moving with the grace of a panther, every muscle attuned to the task at hand.

Inside the compound, the air was thick with tension, but Lyerin paid it no mind. He was close now, so close he could almost hear his mother's voice. He pushed forward, each step bringing him closer to his goal.

The halls of the Borgias Family compound were eerily silent, the usual hustle and bustle absent as the guards dealt with the explosion outside.

Lyerin's pulse quickened as he neared the room where he knew his mother was held.

The door was guarded by two soldiers, their expressions stoic, but Lyerin was prepared. He drew on the Eldren Mana, letting it swirl around him, cloaking him in darkness.

He moved swiftly, incapacitating the guards before they could react, their bodies crumpling to the ground without a sound.

Whoosh!

Immediately, the door creaked open under his hand, revealing a dimly lit room beyond.

And there, sitting in the center of the room, was his mother. Her eyes widened as she saw him, with a mixture of relief and disbelief crossing her features. Lyerin's heart clenched as he stepped into the room, and his voice low and urgent, he spoke.

"Mother, it's time to go."

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