The moon hung low over the sprawling city of Ashhaven, its pale glow casting jagged shadows against towering skyscrapers and narrow alleys. Victor moved silently, a wraith in the dark, navigating the labyrinthine streets with practiced ease. Every step was calculated, every breath controlled. His target tonight was the Darrow Estate, home to one of the wealthiest merchants in the Inner District.
If anyone caught him here, the consequences would be dire. But if an experienced Evolver was on guard duty, it would be over in seconds.
Victor crouched beneath the estate's high wall, security personal stood lazily in front of the gate. They clearly weren't payed highly. He studied the gaps in their patrols, counting under his breath.
"Three...two...one." He darted forward, his lean frame slipping through the gap in the defenses. A swift, practiced motion carried him to a side window. The lock was simple—a relic by modern standards. In seconds, it clicked open, and Victor slid inside.
The room reeked of wealth. The polished wood floors gleamed under the soft light of antique lamps. Display cases lined the walls, filled with rare artifacts—some from Earth, others from the Forsaken World. One caught his eye: a dagger with a blackened blade, rumored to have been dropped after the killing of an Abyss Warden. Its price tag alone could keep the orphanage running for a year.
But Victor wasn't here for the exotic trinkets. He moved toward the study, where a small safe was hidden behind an elaborate painting of a portal. A smile tugged at his lips. "Irony."
Victor approached the safe with the confidence of someone who had done his homework. A week of watching the mansion and one well-placed bribe to the groundskeeper had been enough to secure the code. Not every fight had to be won with strength—sometimes, money was just as powerful.
With nimble fingers, he worked the safe's combination. The safe's lock sprang open with a soft click, and its treasures were revealed, their brilliance now shining for all to witness. Inside the safe were bundles of cash and an ancient looking ledger.
Victor pocketed the cash and paused. The ledger might contain valuable information—trade routes, names, and numbers. He didn't have much time as he heard the faint hum of a distant guard. He closed the safe and retraced his steps nervously.
The clinking of keys was Victor's last warning. The guard was just around the corner. Victor ducked low, sliding behind a tapestry hanging loosely on the wall. His heart pounded as the guard's shadow loomed, boots stopping mere inches from the edge of the fabric.
"Thought I heard something..."
Victor clenched his jaw, praying the pounding of his chest wasn't loud enough to give him away.
The sound of the guard's footsteps grew distant, and the pressure in Victor's chest finally loosened. He took a deep breath, trying to steady his pulse. Too close. His fingers still gripped the edge of the table, knuckles white. He had barely managed to slip out of sight in time. With a final glance at the empty corridor, he pushed himself upright and moved quickly. No time to waste.
The mansion was filled with valuable items, but right now, survival was more important. Victor wasn't leaving empty-handed, but he needed a clean escape before anyone else came searching. The guard's voice echoed further down the hall, still unaware of his near miss.
Victor quietly walked around the room to find any valuable. The most attractive to him were of course the jewellery and artifacts. The rooms walls were covered with weapons and armors from the ancient times and a few from the Forsaken World.
Victor's eyes lingered on the intricately carved sword in the corner of the room. He could feel the pull, the temptation to take it. But no. It was from the Forsaken world. No one could keep these artifacts. The owner could always track them, and it was only a matter of time before the blade would find its way back into its rightful hands. Better to leave it alone. Better to stick to the things he could actually sell without consequence.
Victor's fingers brushed against a delicate necklace, its gleaming surface subtly pulsating with an unseen power, but he paid it little mind. His gaze was drawn to the item beside it—a ring. Rings were almost always the most coveted artifacts, capable of storing their wearer's essence and amplifying their soul power. This one, he knew, was invaluable—its worth alone could surpass the entirety of the wealth he had just found in the safe, worth more than ten times its weight in gold.
He could hear the guard's footsteps approaching again, their rhythmic echo sending a wave of panic through him. In a hurry, reluctant to touch the ring, he snatched the necklace and shoved it into his pocket. The rings immense value and traceability made it too risky. Besides, with his current status, possessing such a powerful artifact would only bring him more trouble than good.
He cast a final, fleeting glance at the room, his eyes lingering on the gleaming ring before turning toward the door. Without a second thought, he darted toward the window he had slipped through earlier, his hands shaking as he yanked it open. The cool night air rushed in, a sharp contrast to the stifling tension inside.
He didn't bother closing the window behind him—there was no time. With one last glance at the room, he pulled himself through the opening, his body slipping into the shadows outside. His feet hit the ground with a soft thud, and he pressed his back to the wall, holding his breath. The guard's footsteps passed by, oblivious to his presence. Victor wasted no time, moving swiftly through the darkened alley, leaving the mansion behind and the open window as his only trace.
Back on the street, the adrenaline slowly ebbed as he melted into the shadows. Victor headed for the Lower Markets, where the city's underbelly thrived. Here, merchants bought stolen goods without asking questions.
At a dingy stall run by an older man named Garrik, Victor handed over a small statue and the necklace he'd swiped during the heist.
Here's a refined version of the dialogue, tightening the language, smoothing out the flow, and adding a bit more clarity to the characters' personalities:
"Nice piece," Garrik muttered, squinting at the small statue. "I'll give you two hundred."
Victor scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Try five hundred. This is Obsidian Carved. Look at the craftsmanship."
They haggled for a moment before settling on three-fifty for the statue.
"As for the necklace," Garrik said, eyeing it closely, "looks like fake pearls. I'll give you fifty for it."
"No way," Victor shot back, his voice rising with frustration. "With your eye for treasure, you should know those pearls are real. The necklace is worth at least five grand."
Garrik raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "Alright, kid. It's real, but five grand's pushing it. For this kind of necklace, I'd be lucky to get two grand. Since I've got to make a living, I'll give you one and a half grand."
Victor hesitated, his instincts telling him the price was lower than what it should be, but he wasn't about to haggle further. "Deal." It wasn't like he came from the upper circles, so he wasn't in the best position to argue.
"Why is this kid so sharp, I will barely make a few times the profit off of this necklace? I guess I am getting old." Garrik muttered under his breath, scratching his head as he counted the cash.
Victor didn't acknowledge it, pulling the money into his pocket. "See you next time, Dave."
He kept his voice neutral and his face hidden beneath the mask, never revealing his true identity in a place like this. A lesson learned from years of playing it safe
As Garrik handed over the cash, Victor's attention was drawn to a pair of men nearby, speaking in hushed, urgent tones. They stood near the back of the room, far from the bustling dealers and common folk. Their expensive suits, trimmed with intricate designs, and the way they carried themselves—confident yet cautious—marked them as individuals with access to information few others had.
"You're saying the whole shelter was wiped out? Everyone? That's impossible."
"I'm telling you what I heard. They said it wasn't a Sacred Rank creature. It was...beyond that."
Victor frowned. Beyond Sacred Rank? He wasn't an expert, but he knew enough to recognize how absurd that sounded. Even the strongest Evolvers barely handled Sacred creatures.
The voices faded as he slipped away, but the words stuck in his mind.
Minutes later, Victor found himself at the city's portal station. The massive gateway loomed like a wound in the fabric of reality, glowing with unearthly energy. Crowds gathered to watch as a team of Evolvers—each radiating power—stepped forward. Their weapons gleamed, their armor bearing the marks of countless battles, a testament to their strength and experience.
Victor watched them disappear into the portal, his fists clenched at his sides, the fire of ambition burning in his chest.
One day, he thought, a fierce determination in his eyes. One day, I'll be strong enough to step through, too. I'll have the strength to face whatever the Unbounded World throws at me—and I'll have the power to take what I want.
His mind drifted to the ring he had left behind, to the precious artifacts he could barely dream of acquiring. Items like that ring, he thought, the ones that amplify power, that can make someone unstoppable. And more... much more. I'll get my hands on treasures like those, things that could change everything. Not just for me—but for everyone who thought I was weak.
He thought of the Evolvers again. They're not like us. They're multiple times stronger than normal humans, able to face horrors that would kill someone like me in seconds. But I won't stay weak forever. I'll keep climbing, until I'm just as strong—or stronger—than them.
Victor watched them disappear into the portal, his fists clenched at his sides.
One day, he thought. One day, I'll be strong enough to step through, too.
But tonight, he was just a shadow, biding his time.
As Victor quickly moved through the darkened alleys, a fire burned in his chest. This necklace was just a taste, he thought, his mind already on the future. The ring... that could've changed everything, but I would have been a fool to take it. It's too risky. I'll find my own way.
No more scraping by. I'll find a way to get my own artifacts after all I'll be soon allowed to enter the portal as I'll be 17 in a few months.
Victor slipped into the shadows of a narrow street, the weight of the cash in his pocket reminded him of the small victories—of the life he had been scraping by to survive. But deep down, he knew this was nothing. This wasn't the life he wanted.
No more running from the scraps, he thought. I'll make my own path. I'll take what's mine.
He glanced back toward the distant glow of the city's portal station, where more Evolvers continued to disappear into the unknown. The thought of them, so strong, so untouchable, only fueled his desire.
One day, he promised himself, his grip tightening on the ledger that he had kept. One day, I'll be standing where they stand. And no one will be able to stop me.
With a final look toward the looming horizon, Victor vanished into the city's labyrinth, his heart burning with the promise of a future that was only just beginning. The world was vast, full of dangers and untold treasures. And he was ready to take it all.