Warlock Ch 425. The Central Vault
Their bodies slipped through the shadows like whispers in the wind—silent, coordinated, surgical. Damian led the charge, his footsteps barely touching the ground as [Spectral Surge] carried him forward. The massive iron gates weren't their entry point—not tonight. No, they had scouted the area earlier. There was a crack in the northern wing, high up, where a crumbled stone beam had dislodged one of the secondary maintenance access points. It wasn't big. It wasn't stable. But it was unguarded.
And more importantly? It led to the upper corridors.
The ones below the vault tower.
Cassius flicked his wrist mid-run. Shadows burst out of the ground in three directions—his summons moving fast, chaotic, loud. Screeching like banshees and clashing against barriers, they scattered into the city like wild spirits. From afar, it looked like they were attacking different senatorial safehouses. A calculated misdirection.
