Morning light seeped through the grime-coated window, pale and reluctant, tracing thin bars across the cramped apartment. Anthony stirred on his narrow bed, teeth clenching as pain flared beneath the rough bandages wrapped around his arm and shoulder. Scratches from the ruins throbbed in slow pulses—reminders that the night before had been far too real.
He sat up carefully.
Across the room, Orion lay sprawled on his mattress, one arm dangling toward the floor, breathing deep and loud in the careless way of someone untouched by nightmares.
Anthony's thoughts, unfortunately, were not so merciful.
The wraith's freezing grip.
The desperate escape.
And then—*her*.
The veiled woman. Midnight blue wings. A voice that slipped straight into his mind, warm and intimate, lips brushing his ear like a secret meant only for him.
*Midnight… mystery lady. Divine stalker or plot device?*
Either way, she'd patched him up without asking permission.
Anthony rubbed his temple absently, right where the memory of her breath still lingered. A faint warmth answered his touch.
The crystal in his pocket pulsed.
He drew it out slowly, letting the lantern's dim glow catch its facets. The shard hummed in response, resonating with the light like it was alive. Not loud. Not aggressive. Just… aware.
*Loot with attitude. Figures.*
Testing it felt inevitable.
Anthony focused, guiding a thread of intent into the crystal. A soft shimmer wrapped around his hand, almost gentle—and the world shifted. The thin illusion coating the room peeled away, subtle and precise.
Beneath a loose floorboard, something glinted.
A copper coin. Old. Hidden. Definitely not there yesterday.
Anthony exhaled slowly.
"Illusion breaker," he murmured. "Or minor reveal enchantment."
Entry-level artifact. Utility focused. Not killing gods anytime soon—but perfect for traps, secrets, and lies.
He slipped the crystal away just as Orion groaned awake.
"Anthony… you up already?" Orion squinted, then winced. "Damn. You look like death's understudy. What happened to your arm—did a bookshelf mug you?"
Anthony smirked faintly. "Something like that. Library ambush. Ancient tomes don't like being dog-eared."
Orion snorted and sat up. "Figures. Still—you were gone all night. Again. If you're chasing ghosts, at least bring back something we can sell."
The banter helped. It anchored him. Reminded him this world still existed outside prophecies and whispering goddesses.
"No ghosts," Anthony said. "Just insomnia." He paused, then added, "Hey. About that guild idea—let's do it today."
Orion blinked. "You're serious? Last week you said guilds were for idiots with death wishes."
*Canon Anthony thought that.*
*Zhang Lu does not.*
"Changed my mind," Anthony replied calmly. "Low-risk only. Retrievals. Investigations. No dragon slaying."
They ate a simple breakfast—stale bread improved slightly by jam Orion had "liberated" from a neighbor. While they ate, Anthony sketched a rough plan: Adventurer's Guild, mid-districts, beginner postings only.
Orion eyed the paper, interest growing. "Fine. But if we die, I'm haunting you first."
"Deal."
The city was awake by the time they reached the Warrens. Vendors shouted over one another, children darted between carts, and Ivory Guard patrols watched everything with cold suspicion. The smell of fresh bread mixed with forge smoke—life grinding forward, indifferent to mysteries.
The mid-districts rose cleaner and straighter. Rune-lamps hummed softly. The Adventurer's Guild stood solid and proud, banners snapping in the breeze.
Inside was chaos.
Mercenaries argued, clerks stamped contracts, bards filled the air with half-finished songs. One wall was dominated by bounty boards, parchment glowing under sorting runes: **E to S**.
Anthony scanned them carefully, Zhang Lu's analytical instincts surfacing.
*Avoid "shadow." Avoid "disappearance." Anything lantern-related is off-limits.*
Orion pointed excitedly. "Rogue golem in the mines. Gold payout."
"Hard pass."
Anthony tapped an **E-rank** notice. "Lost relic. Abandoned warehouse. Warrens. Fifty silvers."
"Boring," Orion muttered.
"Safe," Anthony corrected.
The merchant, Harlan, looked relieved and nervous in equal measure. He downplayed the relic as a "family heirloom," but Anthony caught the lie instantly.
"Sixty silvers," Anthony said calmly. "You listed it as arcane."
Harlan sighed. "Fine."
As they signed, whispers drifted through the hall.
"Another disappearance…"
"Glowing words on walls…"
"Lantern bearer bounty from the Dark Castle…"
Anthony's pulse quickened.
*Word's spreading. Stay small. Stay alive.*
A familiar insignia caught his eye—Varkis' mark. The thug's presence was a threat, but Anthony deflected it smoothly, buying time with confidence and logic.
Outside, Orion let out a breath. "Nice bluff."
"Brains over brawn," Anthony replied.
The warehouse waited by the river, fog thick and sour. Inside, dust and silence ruled. The journal confirmed his fears—cult involvement, glowing words, vanished clerk.
*Cult of the Forgotten God.*
*Tied to Varkis.*
So much for easy money.
The trapdoor puzzle fell quickly under Zhang Lu's reasoning. Lantern before shadow. Revelation before divinity.
Below, the cult waited.
The fight was ugly.
Anthony was slow. Injured. Weak.
A shadow tendril clipped him—and the world dimmed.
Then stars bloomed.
Midnight descended like a fallen constellation.
"Struggling already, light-bearer?" she whispered.
"Bad timing," Anthony rasped.
Her lips brushed his ear. "The crystal hungers. Feed it."
Understanding flooded him.
Anthony woke mid-fall.
He thrust the crystal forward. Shadow collapsed inward, devoured. Light erupted outward, hurling the cultists away.
Silence followed.
Orion stared. "What… was that?"
"Academy trick," Anthony said evenly.
They ran.
Back at the guild, the money bought time. At the tavern, warmth returned—food, laughter, survival.
But that night, the amulet awakened.
A message echoed from the past.
**"The Dark Castle holds the next piece."**
Words burned into the wall.
**THE CASTLE CALLS.**
Anthony stared into the dark, unease coiling tight.
And somewhere close—*too close*—a whisper followed him into waking silence.
"I'm watching, light-bearer."
The mysteries were no longer waiting.
They were moving.