The chamber was tense, filled with the weight of history and the echoes of unspoken truths. Lucian adjusted the grip on his father's sword, its steel cool but steady in his hand. Draven stood beside him, eyes scanning every shadow, every corner where Caelum Vireth might strike first.
Suddenly, the heavy doors swung open with a crash.
A figure stepped in. Familiar. Silent. Deadly.
"Melken?" Draven's voice caught in disbelief.
Melken's smirk was faint, unreadable. "You thought you could face the minister without me?"
Lucian's chest tightened. For a split second, he saw the boy he had trained with, bled with, and mourned. But Melken had changed—years in the shadows had sharpened him, made him something more than human.
Merlik's voice cut through the tension. "He's been alive. Watching. Waiting for the moment to strike back."
The minister, seated calmly, finally spoke:
"So… the prodigal sons return. And the shadows bring their friends?"
Lucian stepped forward, blade raised. "We are not your shadows, Caelum. We are your reckoning."
Melken moved like smoke, circling the room silently, eyes calculating every guard. Draven felt the old bond resurface—three brothers, three blades, ready to carve through the web of lies.
Caelum's lips curled into a dangerous smile.
"You think this is simple? Steel alone cannot undo the webs I have spun."
"Steel and shadows," Lucian said quietly. "That's our advantage."
A flash of movement. Melken was beside Caelum in a heartbeat, forcing him to roll away. Sparks flew as the minister drew a concealed dagger—a hidden line of defense he had perfected over decades.
Draven lunged from the side, striking with precision. Caelum parried, the force of the blow shaking the hall. Lucian's strikes followed, each swing a message: you cannot control us anymore.
The minister was clever. Every strike seemed predicted. He had raised them to be tools, and now he tested their limits. But he hadn't accounted for their unity.
Melken's eyes met Lucian's. No words were needed. They moved as one—a dance of blades, forcing Caelum onto the defensive for the first time in decades.
The minister stumbled. A tiny crack in his composed mask. Melken exploited it immediately, forcing him back against the wall.
Lucian's voice rang out, cold and commanding:
"This ends now, Caelum. The crowns, the lies, the blood—it all ends."
Outside, the storm raged. Inside, three brothers, reunited and sharpened by fate, prepared to reclaim the shadows that had been stolen from them.