The darkness spread.
Not like a wave—
Like a decision.
It flowed beneath the feet of everyone present, swallowing ground, roots, and stone alike. Trees vanished as their trunks were consumed, their forms dissolving into shadow without sound. Knights tried to react—steel flashing as they slashed wildly, boots scrambling as they turned to flee—
And then—
Silence.
The air went dead.
No thunder.
No rain.
No screams.
From the outside, the forest simply… ended.
A massive, perfectly round dome of darkness now occupied that stretch of land—smooth, absolute, devouring light itself. Nothing escaped. Nothing entered.
Inside the dome—
Darkness reigned.
Not empty.
Not cold.
Present.
Elliana remained crouched where she was, one hand still pressed to the ground. A heavy breath left her, then another. Sweat ran freely down her face now, carving clean paths through grime and rain.
Draven stood beside her, heart hammering.
His eyes moved instinctively, scanning for threats—but all he could see was black. No depth. No horizon. Just darkness pressing in from every direction.
"What the hell's—"
He stopped.
His gaze snapped back to his mother.
She looked… worse.
Paler.
Taut.
Draven moved instantly, wrapping an arm around her without thinking, steadying her as her weight shifted.
"Ma," he said urgently. "You look even worse—are you okay?"
Elliana slowly pulled her hand from the ground and pushed herself upright. Her breathing was heavy at first, uneven—but gradually it softened, steadied, as she forced control back into her body.
"Don't worry about me," she said quietly. "I'm fine."
Draven didn't look convinced.
He tightened his grip just a little.
"Yeah?" he muttered. "Because this doesn't look 'fine.'"
He glanced around again, unease crawling up his spine.
"And what's up with this?" Draven asked, gesturing vaguely into the endless dark. "Where the hell are we?"
The darkness seemed to listen.
And somewhere within it—
Something shifted.
Draven swallowed.
"What did you do, Ma—"
He didn't finish.
The darkness in front of them **moved**.
Not parted.
Not rippled.
It *reached*.
From the blackness itself, a blade slid outward—silent, deliberate. A black dagger emerged fully into view, its edge familiar down to every nick and imbalance.
Draven's dagger.
The same one he'd used throughout the fight.
It was held by a figure formed entirely of shadow—humanoid, featureless, its arm extending smoothly as it offered the weapon hilt-first toward him.
Elliana's voice came calmly from beside him.
"Here you go, honey," she said. "Make sure not to lose it that easily again."
Draven stared for half a second longer.
Then he reached out and took the dagger.
The moment his fingers closed around the hilt, it felt *right*. Familiar. Grounding. Like something clicking back into place.
The shadow withdrew without a sound, dissolving back into the darkness as if it had never existed.
Elliana straightened fully now.
Despite the sweat, despite the strain still clinging to her, she stood steady—composed, focused.
"Now," she said, "let's get going. We don't have much time."
Draven blinked. "What?"
"We only have a few minutes at most," she continued, already shifting her stance as if positioning herself. "After that, this place collapses."
Draven stared at her.
At the darkness.
At the impossible calm in her posture.
Then she glanced at him sideways.
"You said earlier," Elliana said casually, "that if that bastard wasn't so fast, you could've killed him."
Draven frowned. "It's not bragging," he said. "It's just the truth."
She smiled faintly—sharp, knowing.
"Yeah," Elliana replied. "I never doubted you."
She lifted a hand, shadows curling lazily around her fingers.
"But now," she added, "that won't be a problem."
Draven's brow creased.
"…How?"
"Try using the movement technique I taught you," she said.
Draven blinked again.
"Huh? Movement technique?" He paused. "Which one?"
"Shadow move?"
Elliana made a small, dismissive motion with her fingers.
"That isn't really the name," she said. "But yes."
Her eyes gleamed faintly in the darkness.
"That one."
Draven's grip tightened on the dagger.
"…Shadow Walk?"
Elliana clicked her tongue softly—half amusement, half correction.
"Shadow Step," she said.
The darkness around them seemed to lean in.
Waiting.
"Now," Elliana finished calmly, "show me you remember how to use it."
*Shadow Step…* Draven thought.
That was a movement technique his mom had taught him during training. He'd used it all the time. It wasn't complicated—just a way to move quietly, without sound, to let your presence slip instead of push.
Nothing special.
At least, that's what he'd always thought.
So why now?
"Why now?" Draven asked aloud.
Elliana stared at him blankly.
"You're asking a lot of questions," she said evenly. "How about you just do it—and see why."
Draven frowned.
*Ain't I supposed to ask questions when you suddenly tell me to do something like this?* he thought irritably.
But he sighed anyway.
"Alright," he muttered.
He turned away from her.
His steps softened instinctively, weight distributing just as she'd drilled into him—light, fluid, like leaves touching water instead of ground.
He took one step.
Then another—
And the world folded.
There was no sensation of speed.
No rush of air.
No pull.
No movement at all.
His body thinned, stretched, and became *shadow*—not metaphorically, but literally—as darkness swallowed his outline.
Then—
He was somewhere else.
Draven blinked.
He stood several dozen paces ahead, the darkness around him unchanged, silent and absolute.
He hadn't run.
He hadn't jumped.
He hadn't even *felt* himself move.
"What the hell just happened…?" he muttered.
Slowly, he turned around.
Elliana stood far behind him now, her silhouette faint in the dark—much farther away than two steps had any right to carry him.
Draven stared.
"I didn't even move," he said under his breath. "Just two steps…"
His heart began to pound.
"And I appeared all the way over here."
Elliana watched him quietly.
There was no surprise on her face.
Only confirmation.
"Now," she said calmly, her voice carrying easily through the darkness, "do you understand why speed was never the problem?"
The shadows stirred.
And for the first time—
Draven began to realize that *Shadow Step* had never been about running fast at all.