The three of them picked their way through the tangled streets of Old Town, sticking close together. The night air was heavy and cold, laced with faint scraps of conversation drifting from unseen windows and the soft groan of shutters shifting in the breeze. Their shoes struck the uneven stones with a clarity that made every step seem louder than it should have been. The sound bounced against the high stone walls, only making everything feel even more unnerving.

  “Careful, Edgar,” Anders muttered as his companion stumbled once again, this time over what appeared to be a discarded crate partially hidden in the shadows.

  A loud crash shattered the stillness as Edgar tumbled forward, arms flailing wildly in a desperate attempt to regain his balance. “Bloody hell!” he cursed, his voice a mixture of irritation and embarrassment. He clutched at his shin, wincing as he gingerly probed the area where it had struck the hard edge of a cobblestone. “I swear these streets are out to get me! Can’t see a damn thing in this blasted darkness.”

  Anders turned back, his expression caught between sympathy and exasperation. “Edgar, you’d trip over your own shadow if it came to life,” he teased, though there was warmth in his tone. “Here, let me help.”

  Anders took a slow, steady breath and pressed his hands together. Light started to flicker between his fingers—just a hint at first, barely enough to notice. It brightened steadily, warming into a soft gold that spilled over the cobblestones and pushed back the dark. The glow seemed to move on its own, casting shifting shapes along the walls and making the whole alley feel just a little less menacing.

  “Hold still,” Anders murmured as he shaped the glow with practiced ease. The light coalesced into a single, floating orb that pulsed with warmth and steadiness. It hovered just above their heads like a miniature sun, casting long beams that illuminated every crevice and crack in their path.

  “Go on,” Anders whispered to the orb, his voice tinged with quiet authority. At his command, it drifted higher, spreading its light further until the alley was bathed in a warm golden glow.

  Edgar gawked at the display, momentarily forgetting his bruised shin. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he muttered under his breath. “It’s been a long time since you’ve done that my friend?”

  Anders offered a modest shrug but didn’t meet Edgar’s gaze. “It’s nothing special,” he said softly.

  “Nothing special?” Gai chimed in, his eyes wide with awe as he took in the glowing orb. The light reflected in his pupils made him look almost childlike in wonder. “That’s incredible! Anders… you’re a Lumen?”

  The question hung in the air for a moment before Anders finally looked up. His expression was unreadable—somewhere between pride and discomfort.

  “It’s not something I make a habit of broadcasting,” he replied cautiously. Then, with a pointed glance toward Edgar’s still-dumbfounded face: “And I’d appreciate it if neither of you went shouting it from the rooftops.”

  Gai grinned but nodded earnestly. “Of course not.” He paused before adding with genuine admiration, “Still… it’s amazing.”

  “Think nothing of it,” Anders said gruffly, brushing past them to take the lead once more. “Let’s keep moving.”

  They fell in behind Anders, slipping out of the maze-like alleys and onto a wider street. The air felt a little lighter here; the hush was broken by distant laughter from a tavern they couldn’t see, and the clop of hooves as a carriage rolled somewhere out of sight. The cramped houses thinned out, replaced by bigger buildings with shingled roofs and iron balconies—proof they were finally getting closer to the wealthier districts.

  Anders’ orb floated serenely above them like a guardian spirit, its warm glow pushing back against the creeping shadows that seemed to stretch endlessly down every side street and corner.

  It was then that a sharp cry tore through the night like a blade cutting through silk.

  “Guards! Help me!”

  The voice—high-pitched and frantic—sent a jolt through all three. They froze mid-step, their heads swivelling toward its source.

  “What was that?” Gai asked, his voice tight with alarm.

  “I don’t know,” Anders replied quickly. His eyes narrowed as he scanned their surroundings. “But it didn’t sound good.”

  Before they had a chance to react, someone burst from a side alley—a woman, moving fast but looking like she might fall over at any second. Her cloak whipped behind her as she hurried toward them, stumbling a little as she came into the light. Her cowl hid most of her face, but there was no mistaking the fear in her eyes; even from a distance, they could see her breathing hard and shaking.

  “Miss?” Anders stepped forward cautiously but kept his tone gentle so as not to startle her further. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

  The woman shook her head violently, her movements jerky and uncoordinated as though she were barely holding herself together. She staggered toward them and practically collapsed against Edgar’s chest.

  “Whoa there!” Edgar exclaimed as he caught her by the shoulders to steady her. Up close now, he could see how pale she was—her skin almost translucent under Anders’ light—and how her lips trembled as though she were freezing despite the mild night air.

  “Please…” she gasped between ragged breaths. Her voice was low but quivered with desperation. “There is something… someone… following me.” She shuddered violently as though even speaking about it brought fresh waves of fear crashing over her. “It—it drains the warmth from my body… I don’t know what it is… but please… you have to help me!”

  Her words sent a chill down Gai’s spine that no amount of Anders’ light could dispel.

  “What do you mean?” Gai asked hesitantly, stepping closer despite himself. “What did you see?”

  The woman looked up at him then—her wide eyes brimming with tears—and whispered four words that made his blood run cold:

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  “I didn’t see anything…”

  Anders and Edgar traded tense looks, whatever hint of laughter they'd had between them snuffed out in an instant. Any remnants of tipsy warmth vanished, replaced by the sharp focus of men who’d seen trouble before. Their backs straightened, shoulders set. Anders’ hand drifted instinctively toward his sword, while Edgar’s eyes narrowed, scanning the shadows for movement.

  The temperature seemed to drop all at once; cold bit at their skin, harsh and sudden. In the torchlight, their breath came out in thin wisps. But it wasn’t just the chill—there was something else pressing in, heavy and close. Gai shivered, rubbing his arms and trying to ignore the uneasy prickle crawling along his spine.

  “Anders…” Gai’s voice trembled slightly as he pointed a hand toward the roadway ahead. His face was pale beneath the shadows, his habitual bravado faltering under the oppressive atmosphere. “The lights…”

  Anders followed Gai’s gesture, his sharp eyes narrowing as he took in the sight. The torchlights along the road were sputtering, one by one, their steady flames shrinking into weak flickers before extinguishing entirely, leaving stretches of darkness in their wake. “I see it, lad,” he said grimly, his voice low and steady. “Arm yourself.”

  Anders reacted instantly, pulling his sword free in one smooth motion. The blade glinted briefly in the orb’s glow before settling into a ready position. The scrape of steel rang clear and purposeful—a clear warning. Gai lingered a second, then fumbled out his own weapon, awkward but earnest. His knuckles turned white on the hilt as he tried to steady the slight shake in his grip.

  Behind them, the woman let out a choked sob that broke through the tense silence like a splintering branch. Her fear was palpable, radiating off her in waves that only heightened the oppressive atmosphere. Edgar turned swiftly and placed himself between her and whatever threat lurked in the encroaching shadows. His movements were fluid but forceful, a protective barrier forged by years of instinct. “Stay behind me,” he murmured over his shoulder, his tone firm yet oddly gentle.

  Reaching into a small leather pouch secured at his waist, Edgar pulled out a handful of small fluorescent spheres. They glowed faintly in his palm, their eerie light casting strange shadows across his weathered face. The spheres were unassuming at first glance—smooth and round like river stones—but they pulsed faintly with an otherworldly energy.

  “Ready?” Edgar’s voice cut through the tension like a blade, sharp and commanding.

  Gai swallowed hard before muttering under his breath. “I guess…” His words lacked conviction, though he tightened his grip on his sword anyway.

  Anders didn’t bother responding with words; he simply nodded once, curtly, his eyes fixed on the darkness ahead like a hawk staring down its prey.

  The quiet dragged on until it pressed at their ears, each second heavier than the last. Without warning, a deep growl rolled out—so harsh it rattled through the stones under their feet. Gai felt it in his bones first. Then he caught a glimpse of something off: the air ahead flickered and warped, like looking through glass, but twisted and wrong. Out of that shimmer, a claw lashed into view, slicing the air inches from his face. With a startled yelp, Gai jerked back, pulse thudding so hard he thought it might break his ribs.

  “Illuminate!” Anders barked. The orb exploded mid-air into a cascade of brilliant light shards that expanded outward like shards of glass caught in sunlight. The radiance pushed back the shadows and revealed their foe—a creature born from nightmares.

  Gai’s breath hitched as he took in its grotesque form: its blood-red muzzle twisted into a snarl that dripped with malice, its sinewy body shimmering with an oily blackness that seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it. Scythe-like claws extended from elongated arms that moved unnaturally fast, while its glowing yellow eyes locked onto him with an intelligence that was far worse than mindless rage—it was calculating.

  “What is that?” Gai whispered hoarsely, unable to tear his gaze away from the abomination before him.

  “Doesn’t matter,” Anders snapped without looking at him. “Focus! Don’t let it freeze you up!”

  But Gai couldn’t move—not as those piercing eyes bore into him like twin suns of malevolence. The creature crouched low, muscles coiling beneath its slick hide as it prepared to strike again.

  Edgar acted quickly, breaking Gai’s paralysis with a sharp command: “Duck!” He hurled a handful of fluorescent spheres toward the creature with pinpoint accuracy. Some passed harmlessly through its semi-ethereal form—but others struck true, exploding into bursts of glowing liquid that clung to its body like molten amber.

  “Burn!” Anders shouted as he brought pointed his blade toward the hellish creature. At his command, the field of light flared bright igniting the liquid with an almost sentient ferocity, flames licking hungrily up the monster’s shadowy form.

  The creature let out an ear-splitting shriek—a sound so unearthly it seemed to vibrate inside their very skulls—as it thrashed violently against its fiery tormentor. Cobblestones cracked beneath its claws as it writhed in agony.

  “Come get it, beasty!” Edgar taunted, stepping forward with reckless resolve. He slipped past the creature’s wild swipe and hacked down hard, chopping clean through its reaching limb. Sparks spat and flames leapt as the severed piece burned to ash before it could even hit the street.

  Gai finally found himself able to move again, scrambling backward to put more distance between himself and the monstrosity as Anders pressed forward relentlessly.

  “Don’t just stand there Gai!” Anders growled over his shoulder. “Help us!”

  This time, the creature didn’t make a sound. The sudden hush pressed down on them, thick and strange, making Gai’s skin crawl. The monster pulled back, its body rippling and shifting in ways that made it hard to look at directly. Shadowy strands twisted around where its limb had been, flickering in and out of shape. The severed stump twitched, then steadily rebuilt itself—black muscle and sinew knitting together with unsettling efficiency. It was fast—unnaturally so—and the ease of it was somehow even more disturbing, like this was something it’d done a thousand times before.

  “Fuck,” Anders growled under his breath, his voice low but charged with tension. His knuckles whitened against the hilt of his sword. His bravado had cracked, replaced by a simmering panic he couldn’t quite suppress.

  “Anders, call for help,” Edgar snapped, his tone sharper than usual, though it wavered at the edges. A note of fear crept into his voice like a splinter beneath the skin. He glanced at Anders, his eyes wide, reflecting the flickering light of the dying flames around them. “Now.”

  Anders didn’t even get a word out before the thing was on him—no warning, just a blur of movement. It closed the distance in an instant, too fast to track, and hammered its claw straight into his chest. The hit knocked the wind out of him and sent him sprawling onto his back, the impact rattling down the stone street. His sword flew from his hand and spun away, bouncing off the cobbles before vanishing into the darkness.

  The conjured lights Anders had summoned moments before blinked out as if snuffed by an unseen wind. Darkness rushed in like a tide, swallowing what little reassurance they had left.

  “Kid, run!” Anders shouted, his voice raw and desperate as he scrambled to push himself upright. His eyes darted wildly across the pitch-black roadway, searching for his weapon—or perhaps for Gai.

  But Gai stayed rooted to the spot. He couldn’t move—his legs felt locked in place, and his breath stalled somewhere in his chest. Even with the darkness closing in, he could still make out just enough: the scattered firelight dancing over Edgar’s blade and the thing crouched opposite them, smoke curling off its body. Its eyes glared back at him, glowing hot with hate, and its teeth caught the light, razor-sharp and dripping with malice.

  The beast didn’t hesitate. It moved with cruel efficiency, hoisting Anders off the ground as though he weighed nothing more than a rag doll. Its claws dug into his armour with a sickening screech of metal crushing under pressure. Their faces were level now—Anders’ defiance meeting the creature’s unrelenting gaze. Those yellow eyes seemed to pierce through him, promising not just death but annihilation.

  “You think you can stare me down?” Anders spat through gritted teeth, blood trickling from a cut above his brow. He struggled against its grip, muscles straining as he tried to twist free. “You’re going to have to do better than—"

  The creature’s jaws snapped open with a guttural snarl, cutting him off mid-sentence.

  “Oi! Get your claws off him!” Edgar shouted, barrelling forward. He lit his sword with a quick sweep through the burning liquid, the blade catching fire in a flash. The flames spit and crackled up the steel as he swung it, not slowing for an instant.

  But this time, the creature was ready.

  Without even sparing Edgar a glance, it lashed out with its free hand—a blur of shadow and talons that struck with pinpoint accuracy. Its claws tore through Edgar’s armour at the shoulder and elbow like paper, piercing flesh and bone with sickening ease. Blood spattered across the cobblestones in an arc of crimson droplets.

  Edgar froze mid-charge, his momentum halted by sheer agony and the creature’s iron grip pinning him in place. His sword slipped from his trembling fingers, clattering to the ground as he let out a strangled gasp—a sound more animal than human.

  “No—no!” Gai whispered hoarsely, his voice barely audible over the chaos.

  With a flick of its arm, the creature hurled Anders across the roadway like discarded refuse. He struck the wall of a nearby house with a sickening crunch that echoed in Gai’s ears long after Anders’ body crumpled to the ground in a motionless heap.

  Edgar crumbled next, collapsing at the creature’s feet in a boneless sprawl. His flaming sword landed beside him, illuminating his unconscious face in flickering shades of orange and red.

  The beast stood tall amidst its devastation, its yellow eyes now fixed on Gai. Those unholy orbs seemed to pulse with predatory glee as it sank low to all fours—a predator savouring its prey’s terror before striking.

  Gai’s breath hitched in his throat as it began to stalk toward him slowly but deliberately. Its movements were almost feline—silent and calculated—as if relishing every agonizing second of Gai’s paralysis.

  The last remaining embers of light flickered weakly before succumbing to darkness entirely. Shadows poured forth from the creature like living smoke, smothering what little light remained until the entire roadway was plunged into suffocating blackness.

  In that void of sight and sound, Gai heard it: a whisper so soft it felt like it came from inside his own head.

  “Fear,” said a voice—female but dripping with malice, each syllable curling around him like an icy tendril against bare skin. It wasn’t just a word; it was an invocation, a command that made Gai’s knees buckle beneath him as tears stung at his eyes unbidden.

  And still… he couldn’t move.