The city outskirts smelled of burned coal, oil, and a faint tang of metal. Rowan stepped carefully over broken cobblestones, his boots crunching against shards of glass and scorched stone. Lynx padded beside him in her fox form, tails flicking like silver knives, senses stretched to every flicker of motion. Cass swaggered a step behind, whistling a tune he had made up moments ago.
"Man," Cass muttered, looking around, "I feel like every city we hit smells worse than the last one."
Lynx shot him a glare that could strip paint. "Try living in it. You'd notice more than just the stink."
Rowan ignored them both, eyes scanning the streets. The city wasn't bustling like Valemire proper yet, but the signs of decay were everywhere: half-collapsed walls, merchant carts overturned, and banners hanging limp, torn in the wind. This district wasn't just abandoned — it had been broken.
"Keep your eyes open," Rowan said quietly. "Something tells me the Phoenix Family doesn't send us a city tour for fun."
Cass leaned against a rusted lamp post. "Well, if they did, they'd still find a way to make it miserable. It's their aesthetic."
The three moved cautiously, sticking to shadows and alleyways, until they reached a courtyard at the heart of the district. A massive iron gate, etched with serpents coiled around a blazing sun, blocked the path forward. Rowan froze.
"That symbol…" he muttered.
Lynx's ears twitched. "Phoenix Family. Definitely not a guild mark."
Cass raised an eyebrow. "So… welcoming committee, huh?"
Before Rowan could answer, the ground trembled beneath their feet. The air grew thick, charged with a familiar hum — the same raw mana he had felt as a child. From the shadows, chains erupted like living serpents, writhing and snapping with lethal precision. Rune markings glowed along each link, the same golden-orange hue that burned on slave soldiers' chests.
"Trap!" Lynx hissed, leaping back.
Rowan's revolver was out in a flash, mana glowing faintly along the barrel. Cass spun his rifle, eyes wide but grin intact. "Guess it's lesson time, rookie!"
The chains lunged, aiming for Rowan with uncanny speed. He fired once, the bullet infused with channelled mana, slicing a link in midair. Sparks flew, scorching the walls. Another shot took down a second chain, but more twisted from hidden alcoves.
Cass ducked behind a pillar, flipping his rifle's barrel. "These things move faster than my ex's temper! Keep shooting, man!"
Rowan dodged a chain snapping at his leg, feeling its heat graze his boot. His pulse raced — divine mana thrummed under his skin, unstable and wild. A chain coiled around the pillar next to him; he guided his mana, feeling it flow through the stone as he fired. The pillar exploded, sending chain fragments flying and creating a temporary gap.
Lynx shifted into her humanoid form, claws flaring with silver-blue fire. She dashed forward, slashing chains as she ran, cutting a path for Rowan to advance.
"You've improved," she called over the chaos, her voice sharp but approving. "Don't stop."
Rowan's hands glowed faintly, channeling divine energy into precise bursts. Each shot fractured another rune-marked chain, the air crackling with static. Sweat dripped from his forehead, and yet he didn't falter.
Cass popped up from cover, firing over the debris. "You're doing it, man! Channel like a pro, not a panicked chicken!"
Rowan smirked through gritted teeth. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, loudmouth."
Finally, the courtyard fell silent. Broken chains lay scattered, smoldering faintly, their runes flickering out. Rowan exhaled sharply, lowering his revolver. Divine mana hissed along his veins, demanding release, but he resisted, forcing it back into control.
Lynx landed gracefully, breathing hard but steady. "Not bad… for a city boy."
Cass leaned on a stone wall, wiping soot from his hands. "Not bad? That was insane! We should put 'Chain-Slayer' on our business cards."
Rowan ignored him, eyes scanning the gate again. The emblem of the Phoenix Family burned into the iron, a silent warning.
"This isn't just a trap," Rowan said. "It's a message. They know we're coming."
Lynx's expression darkened. "And they want to see how far you can go before they break you."
Cass whistled low. "Sounds like a fun welcoming party. I love parties."
Rowan's jaw tightened. "We move carefully from now on. The Capital isn't just a city — it's a cage. And every step inside is their hand on the lock."
The three of them exchanged glances, tension thick but unspoken. Rowan adjusted his revolver. Lynx flexed her claws. Cass checked his ammo, muttering, "Well, guess we're officially invited to dinner with the Phoenix Family."
From the shadows, a figure emerged. A woman, silver hair gleaming under the dim light, scars marking her face like a history written in blood.
"My name is Mira Wraith," she said, voice calm but commanding. "And you… are now on their radar. Permanently."
Rowan's hand tightened on the revolver. "Then it's time they learned exactly what the White Ghost can do."
Outside the iron gate, the city's lights flickered, casting long shadows across the cobblestones. Somewhere deep inside, the heart of the Capital beat like a warning drum. Rowan, Cass, and Lynx stepped forward together, the first sparks of rebellion lighting their path.