The morning after the raid felt… different.The city was awake, sure—merchants setting up stalls, someone laughing too loudly down a side street, carts rattling over the stones.
But underneath it, there was this… weight.
Like everyone was pretending things were fine when they weren't. People glanced over their shoulders more than usual. They spoke softer, like the wrong words might invite trouble.
Liora and I stuck close. Didn't talk much. No need.
Her just being there was enough to keep my thoughts from going too far into the dark.
Still, I couldn't stop seeing her—the little girl from last night.
The way her hands trembled when I lifted the rubble.
The way she ran without looking back.
It got to me more than the fight itself.
We walked through streets I knew well, but they didn't feel the same. My scythe hung heavy at my side, pulsing faintly, like it was reminding me it was there. Reminding me it was part of me now… whether I wanted it or not.
The power inside me is getting stronger. I can feel it.
But the more it grows, the more it wants. Control. Answers. Something.
And every time that hunger stirs, I get this cold pit in my stomach wondering… am I still me?
Or am I becoming something else entirely?
Liora's voice pulled me back. Soft, steady — the kind of voice that grounds you.
"We can't keep running. We need to fight smarter. Find where it hurts the Tower… and hit it hard."I nodded. She was right. She's almost always right.
The problem? We didn't even know where to start.
We headed to the Guild. Not for a mission—just for information. Anything.
The people there looked exhausted. Not just physically… tired in the soul.
Word was already spreading—about new kinds of monsters. Ones that could adapt and change mid-fight, learning from every move we made. The Tower wasn't just sending things to kill us anymore. It was… testing us. Studying us.
That thought stuck in my head all day.
When night came, I found myself by the window, staring out at the lights of the city.
Normally, it's a good view—comforting, even. Not tonight. My eyes kept going to the Tower.
It didn't just stand there.
It loomed.
And for a moment… I swear I saw it pulse.
Like a slow, deep heartbeat.
My fingers brushed the scythe's handle. The metal was cold, but the beat under my hand was faint and steady.
Alive.
I want to be strong. Strong enough to protect Liora. Strong enough to protect everyone who's counting on us.
But every time I use this power, I feel like I'm stepping closer to a line I don't even understand. And one day… I might not step back.
Still… I can't let go.
Hope's all I've got in the dark.
And right now, I'm holding onto it with both hands.Because the Tower's not done yet.
And neither am I.
To be continued...