The perpetual twilight of Noxhaven cast long, hungry shadows across cobblestone streets slick with grime and forgotten hopes. Here, in the underbelly of a city where darkness was more than just an absence of light, survival was an art form mastered by few.

Orion Vael knew this better than most.

At sixteen, he was a ghost among the city's forgotten—a street orphan whose survival depended on wit, speed, and an uncanny ability to blend into the urban landscape. His lean frame, clothed in layers of patched and weathered fabric, moved with a predatory grace through the narrow alleyways. Piercing gray eyes constantly scanned his surroundings, always alert, always calculating.

Noxhaven was a city of perpetual gloom, where noble houses loomed like dark monuments and the streets whispered with secrets darker than the shadows themselves. The sun never truly penetrated the thick, perpetual fog that shrouded the city, creating a permanent twilight that seemed to feed the city's endless cycle of crime and desperation.

For Orion, each day was a careful dance of survival. Stealing was not just a choice but a necessity. The noble houses controlled everything—food, resources, power—leaving nothing for those without status or connections. He had learned early that compassion was a luxury he could not afford.

"Another day, another hunt," he muttered to himself, adjusting the worn leather satchel slung across his shoulder. Inside were a few meager tools—a set of lockpicks, a small knife, and a piece of chalk used for marking potential targets.

The noble houses were his primary hunting ground. Not for violence, but for survival. A well-placed theft could mean the difference between eating and starving, between living another day or becoming another nameless corpse in Noxhaven's endless gutters.

But beneath his calculated exterior, Orion harbored a deeper longing. He watched the noble carriages, with their polished wood and gleaming brass, and imagined a life beyond these cramped alleys. A life where he wasn't constantly looking over his shoulder, where survival wasn't a moment-to-moment negotiation with fate.

The whispers of the Abyss were never far away in Noxhaven. It was a place of dark legends, a realm that existed just beyond perception—a mysterious dimension that both terrified and fascinated the city's inhabitants. Some said it was a place of ultimate power, others a realm of madness. To Orion, it was just another unknown, another mystery in a world full of them.

As evening approached and the city's darkness grew more intense, Orion began mapping out his next move. A minor noble house on the city's eastern edge had recently received a shipment—rumors spoke of valuable artifacts, perhaps even something worth more than mere coin.

His fingers traced the rough outline of a potential entry point on a small, worn map. This wouldn't just be another routine theft. Something felt different tonight. The air seemed charged, thick with an anticipation that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

Little did Orion know that this night would change everything. The Abyss was watching, and fate was about to unveil a destiny far more complex and dangerous than any street orphan could imagine.

As shadows lengthened and Noxhaven prepared for another night of secrets and survival, Orion Vael stepped forward, unaware that his first step would set in motion a series of events that would reshape not just his life, but the entire fabric of this dark, mysterious world.

The hunt was about to begin.