Zone 3: The Obsidian Depths (Four Hours Later)

  The darkness was heavy. It wasn't just an absence of light; it was a physical weight pressing against the eardrums.

  Squad 4 was fraying.

  The initial adrenaline of the kill had worn off. Now, there was just the grind. The 1.5x gravity was taking its toll on the Mages. Miller was panting heavily, sweat dripping from his nose. Sara had stopped checking her reflection and was now checking her mana potion supply with wide, nervous eyes.

  Even Jace, the Tank, was dragging his feet. His massive plate armor, usually a symbol of strength, was now a prison.

  Only two people weren't tired.

  Caelum, whose Platinum Armor was enchanted with Weight-Relief Runes, walked with forced energy, desperate to find the Zone Boss.

  And Amari.

  The Porter walked with a steady, metronomic rhythm. Step. Breathe. Step. The 400 pounds on his back had settled into a comfortable misery. His Steel Bones were hardening with every impact.

  "Hold," Caelum ordered, raising a hand.

  The squad stopped, grateful for the rest. They were in a wide cavern filled with towering columns of black stone.

  "My map says the Star-Moss grove is through the eastern tunnel," Miller wheezed, checking his glowing compass. "But... the readings are weird. There's a lot of interference."

  "Forget the moss," Caelum snapped. "Where is the Deep-Stalker?"

  "The interference is masking everything," Miller argued weakly. "We should set up camp. Let our mana regenerate."

  "We do not camp!" Caelum yelled, his voice cracking. "We hunt! Do you think the Hero Class sleeps?"

  Amari watched them from the rear. They were sloppy. Loud. They were practically ringing a dinner bell.

  Perfect, Amari thought.

  He checked his mental map—the one Idris had memorized for him. The Star-Moss wasn't East. It was Down. Through a fissure in the floor about fifty meters back.

  Amari needed a distraction.

  Skitter.

  The sound echoed from the darkness above.

  "Contact!" Niko’s voice drifted from the shadows. "Multiple signatures. Roof."

  "Light!" Caelum screamed. "Solar Flare!"

  Caelum raised his staff. A ball of blinding white light exploded upward.

  The ceiling wasn't stone. It was moving.

  Hundreds of Obsidian Bat-Swarms. Leather wings, razor claws, sonic screeches that could shatter glass.

  SCREEEEEEE!

  The swarm dove.

  "Defensive formation!" Jace bellowed, slamming his shield down. "Back to back!"

  Chaos erupted. The squad huddled under Jace’s shield as the bats bombarded them like hail. Ice shards and wind blades flew wildly into the air.

  Amari didn't join the formation.

  He dropped a Smoke Pellet (one of Kian’s toys) at his feet.

  PHOOM.

  Grey smoke billowed out, mixing with the chaos.

  While the squad screamed and fired blindly at the ceiling, Amari stepped backward into the darkness.

  He found the fissure in the wall. It was a jagged crack, barely two feet wide.

  Tight squeeze, Amari thought.

  He didn't drop the pack. He needed the vials inside. He turned sideways, exhaling all the air from his lungs to compress his ribcage, and shoved himself—and the 400-pound load—into the crack.

  The stone scraped loudly against the canvas and his vest, but the sound was drowned out by the battle outside.

  He pushed through the bottleneck.

  He was gone.

  The Grotto

  Amari slid down a steep rock slide, his boots surfing on loose gravel. He dropped fifty feet, landing in a silent, airless grotto.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  The noise of the battle above was just a distant hum.

  He ignited a small chem-light. A soft green glow illuminated the cave.

  There it was.

  Growing on the damp walls was a patch of luminescent blue moss. It pulsed slowly, like a heartbeat. Star-Moss.

  "Elara," Amari whispered.

  He pulled out a glass vial and a scraper. He worked fast, harvesting the moss with surgical precision. He needed enough to stabilize her core for a month.

  He filled three vials. He capped them and slid them into the lead-lined compartment of the pack, nestling them next to the raw beetle meat.

  "Mission accomplished," Amari said. "Now to get back before the Prince notices his mule is miss—"

  Amari stopped.

  The hair on his arms stood up.

  He extinguished the chem-light instantly.

  Darkness rushed back in.

  Amari didn't move. He held his breath. He listened.

  Nothing. No footsteps. No breathing.

  But he wasn't alone.

  Who is it? Amari analyzed. The bats are still attacking upstairs. No monster moves this quietly.

  A voice spoke from the dark. It wasn't threatening. It was curious.

  "You aren't a Porter."

  Amari spun, dropping into a low stance, his hands raised.

  Niko stood ten feet away. His milky eyes were glowing faintly in the dark. He held his jagged dagger loosely at his side.

  "And you aren't a student," Amari replied, his voice low.

  Niko tilted his head. "I watched you. The breathing technique. The way you forced that pack through the gap without snagging. You didn't panic during the swarm. You used it as cover."

  Niko took a step forward.

  "Who taught you the Iron Lung?" Niko asked. "That is a lost art."

  "I taught myself," Amari lied.

  "Liar," Niko said softly. "The Guild says you are a Glitch. A mistake. They sent me to delete you."

  Niko raised the dagger.

  "But I think you are something else."

  Niko vanished.

  He didn't teleport. He moved so fast the eye couldn't track him. [Technique: Shadow Step].

  Amari didn't try to see him. He felt the displacement of air.

  Left.

  Amari ducked.

  SWISH.

  The dagger sliced the air where his neck had been a microsecond before.

  Amari didn't retreat. He stepped in.

  He threw a short, brutal elbow at Niko’s ribs.

  THUD.

  Niko blocked it with his forearm, but the force knocked him back three steps. Niko looked surprised. He shook his arm.

  "Heavy," Niko noted. "No mana reinforcement. Just density."

  "You talk too much," Amari growled.

  Niko grinned. It was a feral, wolfish grin.

  "Show me," Niko whispered.

  He attacked again. This time, it wasn't a test. It was a kill sequence. A flurry of strikes aimed at arteries—femoral, carotid, brachial.

  Amari parried. Block. Dodge. Weave.

  He couldn't use his full strength without blowing his cover, but Niko was forcing him.

  Then, Niko shifted his grip. He reversed the dagger, dropped his center of gravity, and spun low.

  [Technique: Severing Veil]

  It was a hamstring cut meant to cripple. Fast. Invisible in the dark.

  But Amari froze.

  [Memory Trigger]

  The cave dissolved.

  Amari was sitting by a dying campfire. The air smelled of ash and sulfur. The sky was red.

  A man sat across from him. He was older, scarred, with milky white eyes. He was sharpening an obsidian dagger.

  "The Veil isn't about speed, Sovereign," the scarred man said, flipping the knife. "It's about the shadow. You don't cut the leg. You cut the space where the leg wants to go."

  The man smiled. It was the same feral grin.

  "If you ever fight a Shadow Walker, watch the shoulder, not the blade. The shoulder always betrays the turn."

  [Reality]

  Amari didn't look at the blade. He looked at Niko’s shoulder.

  It dipped.

  Amari didn't dodge back. He stomped forward into the line of the cut, driving his steel-toed boot into the space Niko’s blade was about to occupy.

  CLANG.

  Niko’s dagger slammed into the steel toe of Amari’s boot. The vibration rattled Niko’s arm.

  Before Niko could recover, Amari grabbed Niko’s wrist. [Iron Grip].

  He didn't break it. He twisted it, using the exact counter-torque the scarred man by the fire had once taught him.

  "Drop it," Amari commanded.

  Niko gasped, his fingers going numb. The dagger clattered to the stone floor.

  Amari shoved him back.

  Niko stumbled, clutching his wrist. He stared at Amari with wide, terrified eyes.

  "That counter..." Niko whispered. "That is the Shadow-Lock. That is a family secret. My father never taught anyone outside the bloodline."

  Niko looked at the Porter. He didn't see a student anymore. He saw a ghost.

  "Who are you?" Niko demanded, his voice shaking.

  Amari looked at the boy. He realized the tragedy of it. He was fighting his comrade, but his comrade was still a stranger.

  "I'm the guy who just spared your life," Amari said coldly. "Pick up your knife, Niko."

  Niko hesitated. He looked at the dagger, then at Amari. The killing intent evaporated, replaced by confusion and a strange, reluctant respect.

  "The Guild wants you dead," Niko said, rubbing his wrist. "But... you know the Old Ways."

  Niko sheathed the dagger.

  "I don't kill ghosts," Niko muttered. "Not until I figure out why they haunt me."

  BOOM.

  A massive explosion rocked the ceiling above them. Dust rained down.

  Jace’s voice echoed faintly through the stone above, still shouting orders. He still sounded in control.

  "The Prince," Amari cursed, looking up. "He's using the heavy artillery."

  "He is panicking," Niko confirmed. "He is burning mana to clear the bats. He will attract the Zone Boss."

  "Let's go," Amari said, hoisting his pack. "If he dies, I don't get paid."

  Amari started climbing back up the slide.

  Niko watched him go. He touched his wrist where Amari had grabbed him. It still throbbed.

  He knew the counter, Niko thought. He knew it before I even threw the strike.

  The Assassin faded into the shadows, following the Porter. He wasn't hunting anymore. He was observing.