The night sky over the old industrial zone was a solid block of black, perfectly concealing Rune's form as he approached the warehouse. The smell of old grease, rusted metal, and an indescribable, pungent odor wafted from the dilapidated structure. Faint lights bled from within, just enough to reveal the blurred figures of the sentries: two Awakened, armed with makeshift firearms, lounging lazily against the wall.
Rune melted into the rubble, observing. He was no longer the reckless brute of the past. Hatred had forged him into a patient, calculating predator. He sensed the energy fluctuations from the two guards – one with enhanced physical strength, the other capable of detecting movement.
He decided against a direct assault. What he needed was silence.
Rune's body began to shift. The skin over his knuckles thinned, becoming softer, allowing him to move without a sound. His sharp claws retracted, replaced by long, gaunt fingers. He virtually vanished into the shadows, each step as light as a feather.
Rune approached from behind, using piles of old materials for cover. The guard with the movement detection ability subtly frowned, as if sensing something amiss. He turned his head, but it was already too late.
A slender bone spike, sharp as a blade, suddenly erupted from Rune's knuckle, plunging directly into the guard's nape. No sound, no cry for help. The Awakened crumpled, lifeless. Rune retracted the bone spike, not a drop of blood staining his biological weapon.
The remaining guard, the one with enhanced strength, was still yawning. He had no idea his comrade had just vanished like a ghost. Rune stepped forward, extending his arm. A familiar surge of power surged in his palm.
The guard suddenly felt an unpleasant tingling sensation in his leg, then his entire body began to convulse unnaturally. His tendons twisted, his bones groaned. He opened his mouth to scream, but Rune had used his ability to constrict his windpipe. The man writhed, his body slowly deforming into an amorphous mass of flesh right before Rune's eyes, until nothing but a chaotic mess remained.
Rune didn't flinch. The sensation of absorbed life force returned, further solidifying his power. He entered the warehouse.
Inside, the warehouse was far larger than it appeared from the outside. Dozens of people were busy working, sorting supplies, repairing weapons, and moving large crates. Some Awakened were clearly stronger, with visible energy auras, overseeing the lesser ones. On the far wall of the warehouse, a large, crudely drawn banner displayed a strange symbol: a wide-open eye within a sharp claw – the emblem of the Night Hunters Guild.
Rune retreated deeper into the shadows, his body almost merging with the rusted iron pillars. He needed to find their leader, or at least someone with enough information about Vorn and the link between them. The hunt had only just begun, and his first prey would be the secrets of the Night Hunters Guild.