Corvo sighed as he sat in the boat with Samuel. “Don’t worry,” Samuel said, his voice gruff. “Just go in there, and assassinate the leader.” he continued. Corvo drowned him out, thinking about Emily. Emily...I’m going to save you. I promise. The boat slowed, then everything was quiet. “Oh, be careful for the Weepers,” Samuel warned. “Nasty sons of b****es, they are.” he added. “Weepers?” Corvo asked, standing up and checking all his weaponry. “People that have been infected by the Rat Plague,” Samuel explained.
Corvo sighed softly, then shrugged. “I’ll do my best,” he said. With that, he teleported to the land. He started to move forward, then groaned. He’d ran into a horde of Weepers. They exclaimed in unison, and ran towards him, screeching. Corvo let out a huge sigh, readying his blade. The Weeper that looked like an old man screeched again, biting Corvo’s arm. “God dammit!” he yelled, stabbing his blade through the Weeper’s head. The others didn’t seem to feel anything that their “comrade” had fallen. Instead, they swarmed around him, groaning and coughing up blood. Behind his mask, Corvo made a noise of disgust, killing them all swiftly.
He advanced again, creeping quietly against the stone steps to the Dunwall Tower. He swore softly when a guard noticed him. “To me!” the man yelled, more shouts mingling with his. With a surge of battle-lust, he moved forward, grabbing the first guards’ head, and slicing his blade through his neck. The guard went limp, slipping out of Corvo’s grasp. The other men raced forward, their swords and pistols drawn. “Time to die,” Corvo growled. When he felt like this, he was a totally different person. He thought differently, not succumbing to kindness. He didn’t feel any remorse at all.
The men yelled in unison, and he grinned behind his mask. He spun on his heel, cutting off a head. Various parts of bodies flew in the air. Heads, hands, ears, legs. The bodies laid there, blood seeping from the wounds. He put his blade away, dragging out the heart he’d been given. He squeezed lightly, and it spoke. “Why do I feel cold? I am not dead, but I am not alive either. What have they done to me?” the voice came out, it was soft, and clearly female. With a sigh, he moved it to the left. It began to beat faster in his hand, signalling that there was either a rune or a bone charm nearby. He moved forward, and cried out in pain. He had run into an electric Arc. The electricity hummed around him, making him feel like everything was being turned inside out. He stumbled back, groaning. How the hell did I live that? And not see it? he thought to himself.
He could feel the time slipping away, so he pushed forward, racing against time to get to the man he was supposed to assassinate. He leapt on to a ledge, hiding in the shadows. He remembered the name of the man he had to kill. High Overseer Campbell. He glanced down, seeing the figures of other Overseers walking around. He was glad that they hadn’t noticed him...yet. He made his way across the platform, stooping over.