The aftermath of the shattered sigil fragment was a storm of silence, heavy and suffocating. The air in the ballroom was thick with smoke and the metallic tang of blood. The remaining hooded figures had scattered, their synchronized movements now frantic as they retreated into the shadows. 

Sioux stumbled back from the altar, their chest heaving as the sigil's lingering energy coursed through them. The fragment's power had been immense, and even broken, it clung to them like a parasite. 

Caedric was at their side in an instant, gripping their arm to steady them. His face was pale, but his eyes burned with determination. "You did it," he said, his voice low and urgent. "The ritual’s broken. The sigil’s influence—" 

"Isn’t gone," Sioux interrupted, their voice strained. "It’s still… it’s still in me." 

Caedric frowned but didn’t argue. He knew better than to offer false reassurances. Instead, his eyes scanned the room, searching for Rhett. 

"Where’s our so-called ally?" Sioux asked, their tone laced with suspicion. 

Before Caedric could answer, a slow, deliberate clap echoed through the smoky air. 

"Bravo," Rhett said, stepping out from behind a crumbled pillar. Their mask—still that unnerving jester’s grin—was tilted slightly, revealing the sharp curve of their jaw. They moved with their usual predatory grace, their cloak trailing behind them like the shadow of death. 

"What the hell are you doing?" Sioux demanded, their hand instinctively moving to their holster. 

Rhett raised their hands in mock surrender. "Relax, darling. I’m just here to congratulate you. Breaking the fragment? Bold move. Risky, but bold." 

Caedric stepped forward, his voice sharp. "We didn’t do this for your approval, Rhett. What are you really after?" 

Rhett’s grin widened, the glint in their visible eye betraying their amusement. "Oh, Caedric, always so serious. But if you must know…" They paused, tilting their head. "I’m after freedom." 

"Freedom?" Sioux echoed, their voice dripping with disbelief. "You call this freedom? Playing games with the Masquerade? With us?" 

Rhett’s expression darkened, their usual playful demeanor hardening. "You don’t understand what the sigil is, do you? What it can do?" 

"Why don’t you enlighten us," Caedric said, his tone icy. 

Rhett took a step closer to the shattered altar, their gaze fixed on the fragmented sigil. "The sigil isn’t just a tool or a symbol. It’s alive. It feeds on chaos, on power, on us. And the Masquerade? They think they can control it, bend it to their will. Fools." 

Sioux narrowed their eyes. "And you’re different?" 

"Yes," Rhett said simply. "Because I don’t want to control it. I want to destroy it." 

The room fell silent, the weight of Rhett’s words hanging heavy in the air. 

Caedric’s jaw tightened. "Destroying the sigil isn’t that simple. Its power is woven into the fabric of this world. If you try to undo it, you risk unraveling everything." 

"Exactly," Rhett said, their voice laced with bitter satisfaction. 

Sioux’s stomach dropped. "You’re insane." 

"Maybe," Rhett admitted, their grin returning. "But tell me this, Sioux—how much longer do you think you can carry that thing inside you? How long before it consumes you completely?" 

Sioux flinched, the sigil’s presence flaring in response to Rhett’s words. It wasn’t a question they wanted to answer. 

"I’m giving you a choice," Rhett continued, their voice softer now. "Join me. Help me find the rest of the sigil’s fragments, and together, we can end this—permanently." 

"And what happens if we say no?" Caedric asked, his voice cold. 

Rhett’s grin turned sharp, almost predatory. "Then you’re on your own. And trust me, you won’t last long without me." 

Sioux’s hand hovered over their pistol, their mind racing. Rhett was dangerous, unpredictable, but their words struck a chord. The sigil was a curse, one that had already begun to take its toll. But could they really trust Rhett? 

Caedric stepped closer to Sioux, his voice low. "Whatever you’re thinking, don’t let Rhett manipulate you. They have their own agenda, and it’s not ours." 

Rhett laughed, the sound echoing eerily in the ruined ballroom. "Oh, Caedric, always the moral compass. But morality won’t save you from what’s coming." 

The tension in the room was palpable, the air crackling with unspoken threats. 

Finally, Sioux spoke, their voice steady despite the turmoil inside. "We’ll think about it." 

Rhett tilted their head, studying them with a curious intensity. "Fair enough. But don’t take too long. The Masquerade won’t be licking their wounds for long, and the sigil… well, let’s just say it has a way of speeding things up." 

With that, Rhett turned and melted into the shadows, their laughter lingering long after they were gone. 

Caedric exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "That was a mistake." 

"Maybe," Sioux said, their voice quiet. "But they’re right about one thing. We can’t do this alone." 

Caedric didn’t respond, his gaze fixed on the shattered sigil. The faint glow of its remnants cast eerie patterns on the walls, a grim reminder of the power they were up against. 

"Let’s get out of here," Sioux said finally, their voice firm. "We’ll figure out our next move later." 

Caedric nodded, and together, they left the ruined manor, the weight of Rhett’s offer heavy on their minds.