Elias's pulse quickened as his eyes caught movement at the edge of the courtyard. Emerging from the shadows of a narrow street, a group of figures in black robes made their way toward the warehouse.
They moved in near-perfect unison, their hoods drawn low over their faces, masking their identities. The sight of them sent a chill down Elias's spine.
This wasn't the disciplined march of soldiers nor the rough swagger of mercenaries. No, this was something entirely different—something more unsettling.
"Who in the world are they?" Elias thought, ducking lower on the window ledge to avoid being seen. His fingers gripped the weathered wood tightly as he tried to make sense of what he was witnessing.
The robed figures were silent as they approached the warehouse, their footsteps barely audible against the cobblestones. Even from his perch, Elias could see how carefully they moved, like predators closing in on prey.
