The three figures stood at the edge of the hall like they owned it.
The silver-eyed man smiled faintly.
The armored one's breath rasped through his helmet.
The one in silk whispered words I couldn't hear — and the air warped around her mouth.
I had nothing. No weapon, no training, no plan. Just lungs that wouldn't stop burning and a head full of panic.
But then my foot pressed against something. A torch, fallen from one of the pillars, its flame still guttering weakly.
The man in silver eyes stepped forward, speaking like a teacher to a student,
"Do you know what separates prey from predator? Acceptance. Prey runs. Predator… adapts."
The armored one raised his hand. Blades unfolded from his wrist with a hiss.
I grabbed the torch. It wasn't much. But it was fire — and every instinct screamed that fire was older than them, older than immortality. Fire was the one thing that had always scared monsters.
When the first claw came down, I swung. Sparks showered the air, and for the first time, I heard something impossible — a hiss of pain.
The creature pulled back, armor scorched, smoke rising from the seams.
The silk-draped figure tilted her head, intrigued. The man in silver eyes even chuckled,
"Interesting! You bite too."
The second strike came faster. I ducked under it, rolling across the cold stone. My arms felt like lead, but adrenaline burned harder than fear. I jabbed the torch again, shoving the flame into the armored one's faceplate.
He staggered back with a roar.
The silk-draped immortal whispered again, and the torch flame shivered — almost died. I clenched my fist around it, refusing to let it go out.
The silver-eyed man clapped once, slow and deliberate.
"Enough. He understands now."
The others froze. The armored one straightened, smoke rising from his helm. The silk-draped one faded back into the shadows.
The man stepped close enough that I could see my reflection in those mirror-bright eyes.
"You've been Blacklisted, mortal. You'll be hunted until your last breath." His smile sharpened. "But perhaps… you might amuse me before then. Survive long enough, and you may even earn the right to stand among us."
He turned, his coat trailing across the stone, and the others followed.
And then I was alone. Torch dying in my hand, lungs heaving.
I'd fought back. Barely. But I'd drawn blood.
And if they bled, then maybe — just maybe — they could be beaten.
I knew that it wasn't over, They would come back to hunt my existence down. But I, Kian Vale am not someone who would be eager to die so easily.