The streets of Riverend were quieter than they should have been. The usual chatter of merchants and the clamor of blacksmiths working their forges still filled the air, but beneath it, something was wrong. The tension hung in the air, woven into the movements of the people—watchful glances, hushed conversations, a nervousness that clung to the city like mist before a storm.
Alex felt it the moment they rode through the gates.
He didn't speak. He didn't have to. He just absorbed everything.
Mira was waiting for them at the mercenary hall. The moment they stepped inside, the air shifted. She sat at her usual table, a glass of wine in front of her, fingers drumming lightly against the wood. A small movement, but telling.
She wasn't as calm as she looked.
Roderic approached first, tossing the sealed scroll onto the table. Mira picked it up, breaking the wax seal with a practiced hand. The rest of the Iron Fangs gathered around, waiting as she read.
Alex remained silent.
He wasn't sure when it had started, but he had grown more comfortable in these moments—watching, listening, piecing together the truth in the spaces between words. It was different from before, back when he had to fight tooth and nail just to survive. Back then, he was a prisoner of fate, reacting to the world around him.
Now… he was something else.
A player. A piece on the board.
And he didn't know if that thrilled him or terrified him.
Mira's fingers tightened around the parchment as she reached the last line. Her usual controlled expression faltered—just for a second. Her grip pressed into the paper, leaving a faint crease.
That was the first crack in her mask.
When she finally spoke, her voice was measured, but the weight behind it was undeniable.
"House Aldric isn't just stockpiling weapons."
Roderic's expression darkened. "Go on."
Mira placed the scroll down. "They're experimenting."
The room went still.
"Experimenting how?" Felix leaned forward slightly, his usual smirk absent.
Mira exhaled through her nose. "Essence infusion."
A sharp intake of breath from Gareth. A muttered curse from Rivka.
"I've been hearing whispers," Mira admitted, voice lower now. "Rumors moving through the underground channels, but nothing solid. I didn't want to believe it. Not until now." She tapped a finger against the scroll. "This confirms it. They're taking people—mercenaries, prisoners, even civilians—and forcing Essence into them. Whether their bodies can handle it or not."
Dain let out a breath. "That's…" He trailed off, shaking his head.
Alex remained still, but something inside him stirred at her words. A faint pull—something whispering at the edges of his mind. His fingers twitched.
Roderic's face was unreadable, but his stance had shifted slightly. Tense.
Felix exhaled sharply. "So what are we looking at? A bunch of super-powered soldiers?"
Mira's gaze flickered toward him. "If they survived the process, then yes."
Felix frowned. "And if they didn't?"
Her silence was answer enough.
Another piece of the puzzle slid into place. The hidden army. The stolen weapons. And now… Essence-infused warriors.
This wasn't just a power grab.
This was something bigger.
Before anyone could speak again, the door creaked open.
A messenger entered.
Not just any scout. One of Mira's personal informants. The moment he stepped in, Mira straightened slightly.
"Report," she commanded.
The scout glanced at the others before speaking, voice hushed. "Riverend is in danger."
Silence.
Mira's gaze sharpened. "Explain."
The scout swallowed. "We've been tracking unusual movement—small groups of men slipping into the city, never leaving. They're not merchants, not travelers. They're fighters. Too well-equipped for bandits, but too secretive for soldiers. And they all share one thing."
He pulled something from his coat and placed it on the table.
A small iron insignia.
Alex felt something cold coil inside him.
House Aldric's mark.
Mira's fingers drummed against the table once, twice. "How many?"
"Dozens, at least. But that's not the worst part." The scout hesitated. "They're not here to attack."
A quiet pause. "Then what?" Gareth asked.
The scout licked his lips. "They're here to take people."
The words settled like lead.
Felix ran a hand through his hair, muttering under his breath. "They're actually starting the experiments here?"
Mira let out a slow, measured breath. "It looks that way." Her usual composure remained, but there was a sharp edge to her voice—one that hadn't been there before.
Silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken thoughts. Then—
The scout hesitated before adding, "There was another disappearance last night. In the Western district."
Gareth's jaw clenched. "That's where most of the travelers stay." His tone was grim. "If they're targeting people there, they're picking victims that won't be noticed if they disappeared."
Mira didn't hesitate. "Then we check it out. Now."
She turned sharply, already moving, and the Iron Fangs followed.
The Iron Fangs made their way through the streets, moving against the crowd surging toward the sound of the bell. As they reached the western district, they saw the source of the alarm.
A group of guards stood at the entrance of a rundown tavern, barring entry. The gathered crowd murmured, tension thick in the air.
Mira pushed forward, her voice cutting through the noise. "What's going on here?"
One of the guards turned. He was sweating, his grip tight on the hilt of his sword. "Another disappearance."
The murmurs grew louder.
Mira's gaze darkened. "Who?"
The guard hesitated. "One of the blacksmiths. Walked in here last night. Never came back out."
Roderic's fingers curled into a fist.
Another victim.
Another piece added to the growing nightmare.
Mira stepped closer. "Let us inside."
The guard hesitated, but eventually nodded. "Do what you need to. But if you find anything... tell us first."
The Iron Fangs spread out, scanning the room with hardened eyes. The overturned chairs and scattered belongings painted a picture of sudden violence, but there were no bodies, no blood—nothing to indicate what had happened after the initial struggle.
Felix crouched near the bar, his fingers tracing scratches along the wooden surface. "This wasn't a simple brawl," he muttered. "Look at these marks. Something dragged someone out of here."
Roderic exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "If they were taken, they didn't fight for long. No bodies, no blood trail. They were overpowered fast."
Gareth, checking near the fireplace, kicked at a loose floorboard. "Nothing valuable left behind. If this was a robbery, it was sloppy as hell." He glanced at Mira. "This doesn't fit, does it?"
"No," Mira murmured, her expression unreadable. "Robberies leave chaos. This feels… deliberate."
Rivka checked behind the bar, her sharp eyes scanning the shelves. "There's nothing here." She slammed a bottle down in frustration. "Who disappears this cleanly? It's like they were ghosts."
Dain let out a grunt, motioning toward the doorway. "If they were dragged out, there should be footprints in the dirt outside."
The group exited the tavern, stepping into the dimly lit alleyway behind it. Gareth kneeled, running a hand across the packed earth. "Damn it," he muttered. "It's been wiped."
Felix narrowed his eyes. "Wiped?"
Gareth nodded grimly. "Someone covered their tracks. Could've been done with water, sand… or Essence."
The group fell into silence.
Mira exhaled sharply, frustration evident in the tightness of her jaw. "They were taken, and whoever did it knew exactly how to make sure no one found a trace. This wasn't some random kidnapping. This was planned."
Roderic's hands tightened into fists. "Which means they'll strike again."
The weight of the situation settled over them.
They had nothing to go on.
No bodies. No trails. No answers.
Mira turned to the group. "We're wasting time standing here. If they wiped their tracks, it means they knew someone would come looking. Which means—"
"We need to move," Roderic finished for her.
Mira nodded. "We start digging. We don't stop until we find out where these people are being taken."
Felix huffed. "And if they don't want to be found?"
Mira's eyes darkened.
"Then we make them regret it."
With that, the Iron Fangs turned and left the alleyway, frustration simmering beneath the surface.
As they made their way back, the group split—Mira and her scouts disappearing into the streets while the Iron Fangs returned to their base. The tension that had followed them through the night hadn't faded. If anything, it had only settled deeper into their bones.
Inside the dimly lit hall, Roderic stood before his team, his usual smirk absent. Instead, his expression was firm, his voice steady as he spoke.
"For now, the Iron Fangs won't be taking on any other missions." He let the words settle before continuing. "I can't rest until we figure this out. I know there's no coin in this, and that's why I won't force any of you to join me. But for me—this is personal. I can't walk away."
A beat of silence followed. Then—
Dain stepped forward first, arms crossed, his voice unwavering. "Boss, if you're going through with this, then I'm with you."
Felix leaned back against a crate, grinning. "What, and let you have all the fun without me? Not a chance."
Rivka shrugged, adjusting her crossbow. "I'd rather take my chances with whatever's coming than waste my time running caravan jobs."
Gareth, ever the pragmatist, exhaled through his nose. "We've been fighting for other people's causes for years. At least this time, we know why we're fighting."
Roderic looked around the room, scanning their faces—his people. They weren't hesitating. Not one of them.
He exhaled, shaking his head, though the corner of his lips twitched upward. "I appreciate it. But understand this—this will get dangerous. I can't promise we'll all survive."
Felix snorted. "The moment we became mercenaries, we knew we could die at any time." He smirked. "At least this time, it'll be for something that matters."
The others chuckled, the tension breaking just slightly.
Roderic let out a breath, nodding. "Alright. I won't fight you on this. Get some rest. In a few days, we regroup and figure out our next move."
He turned toward the door before pausing. "Dismissed."
As the others dispersed, Alex lingered behind before slipping back into his quarters.
Later that night, Alex lay on the thin mattress in his rented room, staring at the ceiling. His thoughts refused to settle. The discovery of House Aldric's experiments, the messenger's warning, the Forbidden Codex burned into his mind… It was all too much.
He sat up with a sigh, rubbing his temples. The candle on his bedside table flickered slightly, casting long shadows against the walls.
Then he saw it.
A symbol, carved into the wooden floorboards near his bed.
A spiral of chains.
The breath left his lungs.
The moment his eyes locked onto it, the world shifted.
A sudden pull, like hands grasping his mind and dragging him down.
His vision blurred—darkness swallowed the walls of his room, the floor dissolving beneath him. The light vanished, and the candle's flame was the last thing to go.
Then—nothing.
He was somewhere else.
A vast, endless abyss stretched before him. Shadows moved like living things, curling at the edges of his sight. The chains, black as night, descended into the void, disappearing into nothingness.
And then—he saw it.
A figure.
In the void.
It was the void.
It turned toward him.
For the first time, Alex felt true fear.
And the whisper returned.
"Do you finally see?"
The abyss roared to life.