“We’re here,” Alex crouched beside the iron grate embedded in the stone headwall of the city. His dagger hummed with a scarlet energy, the edges glowing with a bright crimson light. As he drew the blade across the iron bars, it slowly turned bright red before leaving faint curls of smoke in the air.

  “You… you can’t be serious,” Tucker said with a faint hint of disgust. He watched as the grate was moved to the side, and his stomach churned from the awful smell in the tunnel. “We’re really going in there?”

  Alex flashed him an unamused glance, his expression half-hidden by the shadows. “Got any better ideas, genius?”

  “Well… I mean…” Tucker tilted his back and forth and forced a weak smile before shrugging his shoulders.

  “Thought so. Now get over here.”

  “Ha…” Tucker gagged as he approached the grated opening. Even through his mask, the stench of sewage hit him hard, thick, and unbearable. “Not what I imagined... but if it works, I’m in.”

  “It’ll work.” Alex tossed his woodland camouflage mesh into the bushes, exposing his standard dark grey cloak. “Now, how well can you detect people in the tunnels?”

  “Honestly, I have no clue. I’ve never tried something like this.” Tucker mirrored Alex’s actions, peeling off his disguise and tossing it in the bush. “But I guess we’ll have to find out.”

  Alex nodded, but before he could say another word, he felt a tingle in his hand. He glanced at it for a second before stepping aside and motioning toward the jagged opening. “You’re leading this one.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah, don’t make me change my mind.”

  Tucker cracked a smile before taking a deep breath in to prepare himself. But soon gagged at the awful smell and coughed. It was disheartening that they couldn’t choose their next mission, but that much was expected since circumstances had changed. They were at war, after all.

  His boots clanged against the cold iron as he slipped through the gap, the putrid air rushing past him like a weight pressing on his chest. As Alex followed behind carrying the iron grate, he quickly secured it in place with a translucent string from his pouch. A subtle knot that would hold—for now.

  “How do we find Owl in all of this?” Tucker whispered, his voice dampened by the tunnel’s oppressive fumes.

  “In situations like these, Owl always leaves a trail for other watchmen to follow. His spirit essence lingers in the air like a thread. If we fuse spirit essence into our eyes, we’ll be able to see it.” Alex followed behind Tucker, his boots barely making a sound on the cobblestone floors. “If the trail ends, then it’s just up to luck on whether we find him.”

  Tucker let out a short, bitter laugh. “Damn, well, my luck’s been pretty rotten lately.”

  Alex smirked with the faintest flicker of amusement. “Yeah, but who knows, maybe it’s due for a change.” The veteran played out the scenarios in his head. They were so close to their objective—yet so far at the same time. With no clue as to what awaited them in the shadows ahead. “From this point on, lethal force is on the table. You make the call.”

  Tucker paused for a moment and glanced over his shoulder before focusing on what was ahead. “Never thought I’d hear you say that.”

  “It was bound to happen eventually, besides wind contractors are usually better at this part than others.” Alex gave him a firm pat on the shoulder. “If things go south I’ll take over, but I trust your judgment.”

  Tucker gave a subtle nod and steadied his breathing. He focused, channeling his spirit essence into his eyes. The tunnel’s darkness retreated, revealing in-depth details such as moss-covered stone walls and subtle cracks in the flooring. He extended his hand, weaving a thin gust of wind through the air that moved ahead of them. It was delicate work—difficult to control—but manageable as it spiraled along the narrow pathway.

  “Let’s go,” Tucker whispered with a firm resolve.

  There were questions that plagued him, that gnawed at his mind, but he couldn't spare a moment to think them through. There was no point in wondering why the Empire wanted to go to war with them, nor was there a reason to. Yet it still bothered him. His eyes gazed into the darkness of the tunnels—the unsettling feeling creeping against his body, along with the rancid smell clinging to his clothes. Everything felt off, but whether Tucker would find the answers he was looking for would only be determined by God, and together, they ventured deeper into the depths where the light failed to reach.

  Meanwhile, in the Abandoned Church

  Darkness clung to the church like a veil, broken only by a thin beam of light seeping through the fractured ceiling. Blaire knelt on one knee, his hands clasped, staring at the dusty floorboards. War loomed on the horizon—his homeland versus the Empire of Avalon. And in his possession, a canister that could change everything: years of dirty deals and critical intelligence on Avalon’s leadership. The kind of information that could sow discord among the most trusted branches of the empire’s military command.

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  Most of his findings had made it back to the Order, but within the past month, word had reached him of a fractured leadership—one where the dukes didn’t all see eye to eye. But despite the gravity of his mission, doubt gnawed at him. Something felt wrong—too wrong.

  His gaze drifted to May and Mark, the siblings sitting on the church pews with conflicted expressions. Their youthful faces couldn’t hide their anxiety. Even though May wore her trademark smirk and her arms stretched lazily across the back of the pew. He could see the worry in her eyes.

  They were family to him, but they weren’t supposed to be here. He had given strict orders—orders they’d ignored.

  “Did the administrators give you any intel?” Blaire asked, eyes narrowing.

  “Nope,” May casually replied, rocking back in her seat. “Just ‘Find Owl. Protect him.’ You know how it is.”

  Blaire clenched his fists. “You shouldn’t be on this mission. This is a cut above the fifth tier. You haven’t even earned your titles yet! Do I mean so little to you that you would ignore my teachings and risk your lives?”

  Hearing this, Mark leaned forward with his hands before him. He was always the more reserved of the two, and as he spoke, his voice quivered. “You. Us. Family…”

  “And that’s what makes it worse.” Blaire exhaled sharply. “You two are all I have left, and now you’re putting yourselves in such a shitty situation for me. I would have never asked for reinforcements if I knew you two were the ones being sent.”

  The siblings exchanged a glance, their mentor’s disheveled appearance revealing the toll this mission had taken on him. His once-tidy hair now hung in strands of brown and grey, his usually bright eyes clouded with frustration and fear.

  May’s smile nearly broke. “Please… don’t be like this. I’m sure Salamander and his rookie are on their way. We’ll be fine once they get here—”

  “A rookie?” Blaire slammed his hand on the pew. “Another rookie? Haven’t I been through enough?”

  May watched as the pew shattered into countless tiny pieces and covered her face from the debris. “Salamander’s good. His rookie’s not bad either.”

  “That’s not the point,” Blaire snapped. “Rookies don’t belong in operations like this. Not without proper experience. The Order has procedures for a reason, and we’re risking everything because someone broke protocol.”

  As he spoke, unease clawed at him—a growing suspicion that something far darker was unfolding.

  “We have Salamander, so everything should go smoothly. Besides, they actually survived something far worse than what we’ve encountered. You’re overreacting.”

  “Don’t you dare say I’m overreacting, May.” Blaire gave May a stern look before shaking his head and proceeding towards the platform. With his hand, he gathered his azure spirit essence and placed it on the podium, marking it with an insignia for their Order. “The first lesson that Salamander teaches those who learn from him is the very same lesson I taught you two, and it’s knowing your limits. I am disappointed that you overstepped them and even though I can’t say much about Salamander’s rookie. I am very much furious at the administration, but odds are they were the only ones available.”

  “I…” May was at a loss for words and broke eye contact with her father.

  He looked over at the siblings and clicked his tongue.

  What a fucking mess.

  Blaire examined the insignia on the podium. It was by no means perfect, but good enough for Salamander to follow. For now, they had to remain hidden until the others found them, but something didn’t feel right. This sense of unease crept through his bones, constantly gnawing in the back of his mind. How was it that a rookie accidentally blew up the teleportation device the moment they were about to leave? The amount of explosives you would need wasn’t a small amount, and he knew after checking that rookie’s energy level that they weren’t strong enough to physically destroy it. It was too much of a coincidence, one he found hard to believe.

  He signaled for the siblings to follow him as he pried open the wooden door leading to the basement. In the darkest depths of the church, through the broken stone pillars and rotting wooden beams was a single room sealed with an iron door. Owl pressed his palm against the cold metal, allowing his spirit essence to flow through the frame.

  A series of clicks echoed through the empty cellar as the iron door slowly creaked open, revealing a small room filled with various tools used by members of their Order. “Mark, grab the canister. We’re leaving.”

  Mark nodded and reached for the metal canister resting on the center of the stone table. It was cylindrical with a matte black finish that seemed to absorb all light. The lid was the exact same, with hatches connecting it to the main body.

  “No—wait, we can’t go.” May grabbed Mark’s wrist to stop him and stared at Blaire, who ignored her pleas.

  “Make sure you grab whatever else you two may need.”

  “Owl, listen to me. We need to wait for Salamander to arrive,” May desperately pleaded, but Blaire shook his head, not willing to acknowledge it.

  “May, enough.” Blaire’s stern voice cut through the air like a sharp blade. He took five daggers from the shelf, each crafted out of black iron, and strapped it to his belt. “It’s been lingering in my mind for a while now, but ever since our teleportation device was destroyed, I’ve felt like something was off. The timing was too convenient, and I lost contact with the other watchmen in the cities further in the Empire.”

  “They probably went back to the headquarters. There was the mass recall sent out to all watchmen.” May dejectedly grabbed a satchel from the shelf and flung it over her shoulders.

  “Not without sending me a message.” Blaire stared at the old wooden desk that was buried in the corner with a single open letter. “We made a pact to notify each other in case one of us ever left our post. Our predecessors upheld this tradition for decades and we did the same. So I don’t believe for a damn second they returned to the Order without sending a message.”

  “You’re the only one that stayed back this long. You didn’t even return when you received the order.”

  “I know, but that’s because I had to see this through to the end. To make matters worse, we lost our rookie as well.”

  “But maybe—”

  Owl covered May’s mouth and pressed his index finger to his lips. He glared at the entrance they came from as a chill ran down his spine. It was faint, but he could hear it. The sound of something dripping down the staircase, through the stone corridor. They focused on the doorway and saw a figure wearing a dark green cloak with a half mask standing before them.

  “Triss? Is that you?” Blaire asked.

  He watched as she nodded her head but soon frowned. The movements were stiff and erratic. Something that seemed beyond unnatural and as he slowly reached for the hilt of his sword. A small object rolled towards their feet. Blaire’s eyes widened as he immediately realized what it was, and in an instant, he pushed May behind him.

  May watched as everything moved slowly from her perspective. The hissing sound from the orb entered her ears and drowned out the desperate shouts from her mentor. Her gaze fell to Mark, who was quickly rushing towards them, and before she knew it. A deafening noise filled the room.