The world returned in pieces.
First came the cold — sharp stone against his cheek, broken edges biting into skin. Then the taste of blood. Metallic. Hot.
Edwin blinked. His vision smeared like oil across water. The sky above twisted, warped by the pulse still throbbing in his palm.
The glyph on his hand glowed faintly now, like a dying coal. But it was still there.
He barely managed to lift his head.
Shadow was already standing.
Her cloak was torn at the shoulder. Dust streaked one side of her jaw. Her eyes — narrowed and sharp — were fixed on him.
There was an uknown glint in her eyes.
"Who are you?" she asked, voice low.
Edwin tried to answer. Failed.
His throat was raw, lungs still recovering from the weight that had crushed them from the inside out.
"You don't know what you've done ," she said, almost to herself. Her fingers hovered near her belt, . "That sigil isn't for you."
She trailed off, eyes narrowing.
Behind them, the clink of armored boots echoed sharply off the walls.
Vos.
He emerged from the smoke, blade sheathed, runes flickering faintly across his armor. His expression was unreadable.
Shadow rose to her feet, placing herself protectively between Elias and the knight.
Vos tilted his head slightly. "You're here for the sigil. That much was expected."
Shadow didn't deny it. "He bears it now."
Vos's eyes flicked to Edwin, then to the mark still burning faintly on his palm. "Poorly."
Shadow's voice was firm now. "I'll take him."
Vos raised a single brow. "You'll try."
"You don't understand what that sigil is—"
"I understand enough," Vos said sharply. "And more importantly, I know who wants it."
Vos's hand moved instantly to the hilt at his side. The air thickened between them.
"I don't want a fight," she said.
Vos replied, "That's good."
Shadow didn't flinch.
Vos's voice remained steady. "I was sent to confirm a breach. A Circle agent operating outside sanctioned limits."
He nodded toward the half-crushed alley, toward the lingering glyph-smoke still curling from the cobblestones.
"Seems I found more than that."
Shadow's jaw tightened. "Then take your confirmation and go back to your House."
"I would have," Vos replied. "But your little experiment touched something odd."
His eyes flicked to Edwin, whose body was still trembling from the aftershock. "And now the Circle's reach is longer than expected."
"I didn't come here to start a war."
Vos gave a faint smile. "Wars rarely announce themselves."
Shadow glanced down at Edwin again. There was no anger in her gaze now — just calculation. *I didn't know what happened but I have to take him to the master.*
A quiet settled over them.
Edwin, barely upright against the wall, croaked out, "You're both… talking like I'm not here…"
Shadow crouched beside him again. "Because right now, you're not in a position to choose anything."
She reached into her cloak again — slower this time, deliberate.
Vos tensed. "Don't."
Shadow met his eyes. "I'm not killing him."
She ignored the barb and pulled out the scroll — old, cracked, the runes along its edge already flickering.
Vos didn't draw his blade, but his stance shifted — a step forward, a fraction lower, a ripple of light along his vambrace.
But he still shook his head. "He's not leaving with you."
Shadow's patience cracked just slightly. "Why do you care?"
Vos's gaze returned to Edwin. There was no softness in it. Just weight.
"Because whatever that sigil is… it didn't reject him."
That landed like a stone dropped in a well.
Edwin blinked. "Wait… what are you saying—"
Vos took a step forward. "It means it accepted you. Half-formed or not. And if the Circle gets you, they finish what it started. That I can't allow."
Shadow rose to her feet again, scroll in hand. "Then you'll have to stop me."
The parchment began to burn.
Vos moved.
Faster than Eswin could track — a blur of steel and light. Shadow spun, one hand dropping to her belt, releasing a cascade of powder that flashed with light as it struck the ground.
The alley exploded in smoke and glyph-light. Blinding.
Edwin coughed, choking. The scroll burned in his lap — runes climbing into the air, wrapping around his body in spiraling threads.
He barely caught her voice in the chaos: "Don't resist it."
A sharp tug — like a hook through his spine.
And then—
Silence.
The world folded.
Space cracked.
And the alley was empty.