The faint light of dawn struggled through the grime-coated window, casting a dull orange haze over the dust suspended in the stale air of my cramped apartment. Outside, Valenport was waking—merchants' voices rising like a chorus, carts rattling across uneven cobblestones, and horses braying somewhere far down the winding alleys. Yet inside, time felt frozen, the air thick with the weight of silence and anticipation.
I sat motionless on the edge of the threadbare mattress, exhaustion gnawing at every fiber of my body. Sleep was a luxury I no longer possessed—not with the past clawing at my mind like an open wound that refused to heal. Ten years since I fell. Ten years of betrayal, death, and regret. Those memories burned hotter than the weak morning sun slipping through the grime, each one a reminder of what I'd lost—and what I still needed to reclaim.
My fingers raked through my tangled hair, desperate for some small comfort. The ache pressing on my chest was heavier than mere fatigue—it was the weight of survival in a city that wanted me dead. Outside, the shadows moved with sinister purpose. Enemies. The same ones who had ended me once, waiting in the dark to finish the job.
The power stirring within me—the Soul Resonance—was a double-edged sword. It was my salvation and my curse, a beacon that drew every predator's eye. But without it, I was nothing. Just another broken man lost to history.
A sharp knock shattered the silence, slicing through the haze like a blade. Every nerve in me snapped taut, the years of distrust coiling tight in my gut. Slowly, I crept to the door and cracked it open just enough to peer into the dim hallway.
A figure stood shrouded in shadow, their form hidden beneath a heavy cloak, hood pulled low against the morning chill. Their voice came low, careful—an urgent whisper that sent a shiver crawling down my spine.
"Kael Draven."
The sound of my name on their tongue was a warning.
I studied the silhouette, weighing the risk of opening further. "Who's asking?" My voice was calm, but my hand hovered near the hilt of my sword, ready for whatever might come.
The hood slipped back slowly, revealing sharp eyes—hard and wary, yet not cruel. There was something familiar in the gaze, something that stirred a cautious hope.
"Ryn," they said simply. "I know what you've been through. And what's coming next."
Our eyes locked in the gloom. No lies. No games.
"Why find me now?" I asked, suspicion and hope warring inside my chest.
Ryn's eyes darkened, a shadow passing over them. "You're hunted. The Silent Serpents are only the beginning."
My breath hitched. Those assassins—silent, relentless—had been pawns in a larger, deadlier game.
"Who's pulling the strings?" I pressed, voice low.
"Powerful nobles hiding behind silver tongues. Corrupt guilds feeding the Council's greed. Merchants with fortunes too vast to risk. They all see you as a threat. Your survival, your power—they want it snuffed out before it can ignite."
I clenched my fists until my nails bit into my palms. "Me? A Rank F nobody?"
Ryn's expression hardened. "Rank means nothing when you command the Soul Resonance. You represent change. Revolution."
Her words settled over me, colder than the dawn light filtering through the grimy glass. I was more than a forgotten hunter. I was a spark—one they feared could become a wildfire.
I searched her face, seeking a sign, any indication that I could trust this stranger who had slipped into my life like a shadow.
"What do you want from me?" I asked at last.
"A partnership," Ryn replied, her voice steady but urgent. "I have eyes and ears where you don't. I can help you strike back. But you're not alone anymore. You need allies if you want to survive—and win."
Trust felt like a razor's edge, sharp and precarious. But solitude was a slow death.
Before I could answer, faint footsteps—light, quick—ticked across the rooftops outside. The city itself seemed to hold its breath.
Ryn's gaze snapped sharp, alert. "They're closer than you think. We don't have much time."
My heart hammered in my chest. I tightened my grip on the hilt of my sword, the familiar weight grounding me.
"I'm ready," I said, voice steady despite the storm raging inside.
Ryn melted back into shadow as the city outside stirred to life—the market cries growing louder, the distant clang of hammers, the rumble of carts beginning their day.
The past was closing in fast, claws unsheathed.
But this time—I wasn't running.
This time—I was preparing to fight.