The morning sun broke over the city, casting pale light across the streets, but the Hunters' world was anything but bright. The whispers had started hours ago—children of notable Hunter families, gone without trace, vanished like mist in the night.
Inside a sleek, dark chamber perched above the city, the Hunters' council gathered. The room smelled faintly of incense and metal. Walls lined with weapons gleamed, but none of them compared to the weight of the tension in the air.
At the head of the table sat Lucien Kaelstrom, the head of the Hunter Association. His presence was like a blade in the chest—sharp, cold, and undeniable. Gray hair swept back, eyes the color of polished steel, his voice could slice through a room like a knife.
"They've vanished," Kaelstrom said, voice steady but dark with fury. "Every child connected to the Forsaken… gone. No trace. No explanation. And yet I feel him."
One of his lieutenants, a woman with ice-blue eyes named Mirelle, leaned forward. "Kaelen returned from his encounter last night. He says the Forsaken has grown… and that he's not alone. He has recruits, and he wields his strings like a master puppeteer."
Kaelstrom's fingers drummed lightly against the table. "He doesn't just fight. He manipulates. He calculates. And now… he's struck where it hurts the most."
Another Hunter, tall and gaunt, added, "The children? This isn't just a warning. It's an attack on the very future of the Hunters. He's playing a long game. And we've been blind."
The council members exchanged grim looks. Whispers filled the chamber: some angry, some fearful, some calculating. Kaelstrom stood, pacing slowly, his eyes narrowing.
"If this Forsaken believes he can eliminate generations of Hunters, he's mistaken," he said. "He may be clever, but every thread he pulls has consequences. Every shadow he casts can be traced. And I will trace him. I will find him. I will break him."
Mirelle's lips tightened. "And yet… what if he is stronger than any of us? What if Kaelen's warnings are true?"
Kaelstrom's eyes glinted with dark amusement. "Then he's a challenge worthy of attention. And I am not a man to leave a challenge unanswered."
Outside the chamber, the Hunters began preparations quietly. Spies were dispatched, wards laid, and elite operatives placed in the city's streets. Every street, every alley, every corner became a potential battlefield.
Kaelstrom lingered in the shadows of his tower, staring down at the city. "Rayon Veynar," he muttered, a dangerous smile curling his lips. "You've made the first move… and now the game begins."
Every whisper, every move, every thread of the Forsaken's web was now under scrutiny. And yet, for the first time in generations, a hunter felt intrigued rather than merely enraged.