The city district had gone quiet. Too quiet.
Voryn crouched behind the shattered remains of what had once been a marketplace, shadows curled around him like serpents, absorbing the faint flickers of torchlight. His mind traced every movement from the previous night, the escape of the Stage 4 scout, Lysera's obsessive pursuit, the faint premonition of something far larger watching them both.
It's never just about the fight, he reminded himself. It's about the players and which pieces I can trust.
Trust. Such a fragile currency. And he had spent too much of it already.
The Ally in Question
Eryndal had been a useful ally once, briefly. Tactical, clever, and capable of anticipating threats. But usefulness could be a curse.
Voryn's shadows flickered across the ground, coiling around the ruined stalls. He watched from above, silent, calculating.
And then he saw it: movement. Not chaotic. Not panicking. Intentional.
Eryndal.
The rogue had approached the district earlier, ostensibly to assist Voryn in tracking the newly escaped Stage 4 threats. But now… his path didn't lead toward danger. His path led to the edge of the district toward a hidden portal shimmering faintly beneath an old cobblestone alley.
Voryn's lips curled.
So predictable…
The Trap Unfolds
He moved silently, shadows sliding beneath his boots. Every step is calculated. Every breath timed.
From the darkness, he observed Eryndal kneeling before the portal, muttering words of power. A faint glow of forbidden runes danced across his hands.
Trading me in for personal gain, Voryn thought coldly. Stage 4 ambition, greed, or fear, does it matter? All are weaknesses I can exploit.
A shadow coiled around Voryn's wrist, sensing his focus. He allowed it to slip forward, just enough to brush against the portal's edge. Tiny sparks erupted, unnoticed by Eryndal.
Voryn smiled faintly.
Let's see how far your ambition gets you without me.
Confrontation
"Eryndal."
The rogue froze. The word wasn't shouted. It was a whisper, carried by shadows directly into his mind.
He turned, startled.
Voryn stepped into view slowly, shadows falling across his figure, obscuring him like a living cloak.
"You followed me?" Eryndal stammered, voice tight. "I thought you'd be hunting the Stage 4"
"You thought wrong," Voryn interrupted calmly. "You were hunting yourself. And what's worse… you've been observed."
Eryndal's eyes darted, panic flickering. His hands moved toward concealed weapons.
Voryn chuckled softly.
"You're still learning," he said. "Ambition without calculation is dangerous. Especially when someone's shadow has already mapped your every move."
Shadows writhed at his feet. The air thickened with quiet menace.
Eryndal swallowed hard. "I can explain!"
"Explain?" Voryn repeated, voice almost amused. "You knew exactly what you were doing. And you didn't bother telling me until it was too late. That's not an explanation, that's gambling with me as the ante."
Psychological Pressure
The rogue paled. His movements became frantic, trying to conjure illusions to hide the portal, trying to misdirect Voryn's shadows.
Voryn's lips quirked.
Children's tricks, he thought. Amateurs.
With a flick of his wrist, shadows lashed forward not to kill, not yet, but to wrap around Eryndal's wrists and ankles, pinning him gently but firmly.
"Look around," Voryn said softly. "Every exit. Every advantage. Every ally you thought you could manipulate… gone. Only one truth remains: the cost of betrayal is very real."
Eryndal's eyes widened. He could feel the subtle draining tug of the Black Oath's shadow energy, a gentle, insistent reminder that Voryn was in command.
"You won't…" Eryndal gasped.
"I won't?" Voryn mused, stepping closer, shadows rising like serpents around him. "I could," he said, voice cold, "but why waste energy on someone who hasn't yet learned the value of currency?"
Let them survive… for now.
Calculation and Cost
Voryn released the slightest pressure on the shadows, enough for Eryndal to breathe freely.
"Learn this lesson well," Voryn said. "Trust is the rarest currency. And you just lost a fortune."
Eryndal trembled. "I understand."
"Do you?" Voryn tilted his head. "Or are you merely pretending because your ego is bruised?"
The rogue swallowed hard, silent.
Voryn let the shadows retract fully, giving Eryndal a narrow path back. A test. A reminder.
The next time you betray me… There will be no mercy.
Voryn turned away, blending into the ruins, leaving Eryndal to question his own survival, morality, and ambition.
Observing the Greater Threat
From the edge of the city, the Stage 4 scout, the creature that had escaped the lesson in patience, watched silently. Eyes glinting, calculating.
Voryn's attention shifted instantly, shadows flicking toward the threat like hunting hounds.
Every movement is observed. Every pattern noted. I know you learned something in the shadows, he thought, voice low. And that's exactly what makes you dangerous.
The city seemed to pulse with tension. Somewhere, far beyond, he felt the stirrings of an entity he could not yet see.
The Black Oath whispered faintly in his veins, reminding him: power demands sacrifice, observation, calculation.
And the next betrayal would come not from greed, not from carelessness, but from someone who had watched, learned, and waited.
Suddenly, a deafening roar shattered the quiet.
The portal that Eryndal had been tampering with flared violently, sending a pulse of energy that made the shadows scream and coil around Voryn defensively.
From the portal, a massive figure stepped forth: a being partially obscured by void-energy, clearly not fully awakened yet moving with a precision that suggested lethal mastery.
Voryn froze. His mind raced, calculating:
Stage 4… or Stage 5?
The creature's voice reverberated through the ruins, deep and mocking:
"So… the shadow boy gathers allies. And betrays them. Interesting. You amuse me, Voryn."
Lysera appeared silently on the rooftop edge, eyes narrowing as she stared at the portal.
"It begins," she whispered, voice edged with obsession.
Voryn's shadows writhed violently around him, Black Oath pulsing, feeding, warning, and whispering simultaneously.
And at that moment, Voryn understood clearly:
The world had just tilted, and the next move would decide not just survival, but the cost of every bond he ever made.