Jalen crouched on the rooftop across from the bar, cold night air brushing against his face. The streets of Londonium glimmered below, bustling with revelers celebrating the city's grand opening. Fireworks erupted in bursts of light, drones zipped by broadcasting advertisements, and glowing banners draped the streets. Crowds spilled out of bars and restaurants, intoxicated on a heady mix of liquor and the promise of a bright future. But Jalen wasn't here to celebrate. He was on the hunt.
Inside that unremarkable bar, Husesj, a powerful sorcerer from Leng, lurked like a coiled serpent, ready to strike. His spear, a weapon infused with the dark power of the Old Ones, had the potential to unleash something far worse than death. Jalen could already sense it—the cursed energy emanating from the building, vibrating in the marrow of his bones.
The Inquisitors were already breathing down his neck. They hadn't wanted TTOS in Londonium at all, especially not tonight with the world's eyes on the new city. They saw TTOS as intruders meddling in their affairs. But Jalen didn't care—he had his orders. If Husesj succeeded in using the cursed spear, it wouldn't just be Londonium that suffered; Eden itself would be next. The magical wards woven into Eden kept it safe, but Londonium lacked those protections. It was fresh, vulnerable, and if Husesj sacrificed enough souls tonight, it would become the sorcerer's altar.
Jalen pressed a finger to his earpiece. "Kasha, you in position?"
"On your signal," came her whisper over the comms. "Let's make it quick before the Inquisitors decide to crash the party."
"Copy that." Jalen pulled his hood over his head and leapt from the rooftop, landing silently in the alleyway beside the bar. His team followed—shadows in black tactical gear, their armor laced with occult sigils that flickered faintly under the neon lights.
"Remember," Jalen whispered as they reached the back door, "we hit fast, subdue him, and get out. No time for theatrics."
The door swung open, and they moved in like a pack of wolves.
---
Inside, the bar was dimly lit, the air heavy with smoke and the hum of casual conversation. The patrons—a mix of locals and tourists—paid no mind to the cloaked figures slipping through the entrance. Husesj sat at the far end of the room, hunched over a drink. He looked gaunt and sickly, his skin stretched tight over sharp bones, but Jalen knew better than to underestimate him. The sorcerer's hands rested loosely on the spear, which lay across his lap, but the air around him buzzed with restrained power.
Jalen's eyes flicked to Kasha. She gave a subtle nod.
They struck without warning.
Kasha vaulted over the bar in a flash, her warded baton swinging toward Husesj's head. The sorcerer's hand shot up, catching the blow mid-air as a wave of dark energy exploded outward. Tables splintered, glasses shattered, and patrons were thrown against the walls by the force of the blast. Screams filled the air, and the room erupted into chaos.
Jalen charged forward, warded gloves glowing as he reached for the spear. Husesj snarled, twisting the weapon out of his grasp with inhuman speed. The sorcerer's eyes blazed with black fire as he jabbed the spear toward Jalen's chest.
"Down!" Kasha shouted.
Jalen ducked just in time. The spear missed him by inches, slamming into the bar behind him. The wood rotted and crumbled instantly, as if centuries had passed in a single moment.
Husesj spun the spear, sending out arcs of cursed energy that crackled like lightning. One of Jalen's men—Garth—was hit square in the chest, his body freezing mid-stride. For a moment, Garth's expression twisted into pure terror, and then his body crumbled into dust, his soul ripped from his flesh.
"Stay on him!" Jalen barked, dodging another swing of the spear.
Kasha lunged again, landing a solid blow to Husesj's ribs. The sorcerer staggered, gasping, but recovered with terrifying speed. With a flick of his wrist, he sent a wave of shadowy tendrils surging toward the team, snaking around their limbs and dragging them toward him.
Jalen gritted his teeth, struggling against the dark magic. His gloves burned with protective runes, searing the tendrils as they wrapped tighter. He could feel the pressure in his mind—the whispers of the Old Ones seeping through the sorcerer's magic, tempting him with promises of power.
But he pushed the voices aside, focusing on the mission. "Now, Kasha!"
Kasha pulled a glyph-covered knife from her belt and slashed through the tendrils, freeing herself and the others. She rushed forward, driving the blade into Husesj's thigh. The sorcerer howled in rage, staggering back as dark blood spilled from the wound.
Jalen seized the moment. He slammed his baton into the sorcerer's chest, the warded symbols glowing as they discharged a burst of energy. Husesj convulsed, his body locking up as the magic took hold, and the spear fell from his grasp with a clatter.
"Got him!" Kasha shouted, grabbing the spear and wrapping it in a warded cloth to neutralize its power.
But the fight wasn't over. Even incapacitated, Husesj's presence filled the air with a suffocating sense of dread. The sorcerer's lips moved silently, chanting in a language older than time, and the lights in the bar flickered as the shadows deepened.
"Put him down, now!" Jalen barked, pulling out a tranquilizer gun. He aimed at Husesj's neck and fired. The dart struck true, and within moments, the sorcerer's chanting slowed, his eyelids drooping as the sedative took effect.
The bar fell eerily silent, save for the crackle of flames from the wreckage. Around them, bodies lay strewn across the floor—patrons caught in the crossfire, their souls drained by the cursed energy.
Kasha crouched beside one of the bodies, her expression grim. "Twenty-five dead... Maybe more."
Jalen clenched his fists. There had been no way to avoid the casualties, but the weight of their loss pressed down on him like a stone. "The Inquisitors will cover it up."
"And the forums will spin their conspiracy theories." Kasha's voice was flat, resigned.
Jalen exhaled slowly, pulling Husesj's limp body over his shoulder. "Let's get out of here before the Inquisitors show up."
They slipped out the back door just as the distant wail of sirens filled the air. Inquisitors would arrive within minutes, ready to erase all traces of the incident.
As their black van sped through the streets of Londonium, the neon lights blurring past the windows, Jalen stared down at the unconscious sorcerer. They had stopped Husesj today. But he knew that this was only the beginning.
"We got lucky," Kasha murmured from the driver's seat.
"Yeah," Jalen muttered, his gaze distant. "But luck runs out."
And as Londonium's celebrations continued into the night, no one outside TTOS and the Inquisitors would ever know how close the city had come to disaster. Perfection was an illusion, but in Eden's shadow, even illusions had teeth.