The silence after returning from the Bronx Library was thick.
Elijah stood in the center of his small apartment, eyes locked on his hand—the back of it, to be exact—where something new now shimmered against his skin.
A mark.
Thin, dark lines etched in a perfect circle, divided into three equal arcs. Each segment pulsed faintly with necrotic energy, like veins of ember beneath obsidian. It hadn't been there before. It appeared the moment he accepted the Archivist's book and awakened the next level of his power.
He raised it to the light. As he did, Karu stepped from the shadows beside the couch, his form as quiet as ever, skeletal fingers curled and resting on the pommel of his blade.
"The Triad," Karu said softly.
Elijah looked over at him. "That's what you called it before. You want to explain now?"
Karu's skull tilted slightly. "We are more than tools. More than summoned ghosts or rotted pawns. There are three of us—bound by fate, awakened by your soul. When the Surge touched the dead, it touched us first."
"You're saying... you three were changed before anyone else?" Elijah asked, surprised.
Karu nodded. "And we waited. Slept, scattered across the veil, until the Ashbound rose again."
"That's me, huh?"
Karu didn't answer.
Elijah looked at the symbol again. The top arc of the circle glowed dimly. It matched the aura Karu gave off.
"So this part's you," Elijah said. "Which means…"
"When I am summoned," Karu replied, "my mark vanishes from your hand. So the living may know who walks beside you—and who does not."
Elijah's mouth quirked into a smirk. "Handy. Tactical. A little ominous. I like it."
Karu said nothing. But there was something about the way his cloak rustled faintly. Amusement, maybe.
Selene walked in from the kitchen, eyes catching the mark immediately.
"Is that new?" she asked, eyes narrowing.
"Apparently, it's a necromancer version of a mood ring."
She crossed her arms. "It glows. That's not normal."
Elijah flexed his hand. "It represents my Triad. Karu's one of them. The other two are still out there."
"And you're just cool with having ancient undead generals bonded to you now?"
He shrugged. "Weirder things have happened."
"Like what?"
He opened his mouth. Paused. Then closed it.
Selene raised an eyebrow. "Thought so."
Karu stepped forward. "If you wish to build what the Archivist spoke of—an undead legion, an empire beneath flesh and bone—you must begin now. The second gate awaits. But the path will not be clean."
"I'm guessing it never is."
Two days later, deep beneath the ruins of an old biotech facility in what used to be Harlem, Elijah and Selene stood before a door made of stone and shadow.
The symbols on it writhed.
"This is it," Elijah said, clutching the book the Archivist gave him. "The Second Gate."
Selene looked around the room. Old lab equipment sat frozen in time—monitors long-dead, cables like tentacles across the walls. The room smelled of copper and rot. Her pistol was drawn, as always.
"You ready for this?" she asked.
Elijah didn't respond right away. He took a breath, held it, then spoke a single word:
"Awaken."
The mark on his hand pulsed—and Karu stepped forward from the gloom. Elijah handed him the book.
"You'll guide us in."
Karu traced a bony finger over the symbols carved into the stone. "The guardian awaits. This gate is bound in rage, and the soul inside has never known peace."
"Sounds friendly."
With a low boom, the gate opened.
Inside was a circular chamber lined with ossified pillars. Bone dust danced in the air like snow. At the center, a chained sarcophagus rested on a raised dais. As they approached, Elijah could feel the pressure in the room shift—heavy. Ancient.
The chains clinked once.
Then twice.
Then exploded.
Bone shards flew outward as something rose from the sarcophagus—seven feet tall, horned, wrapped in ghostly armor that screamed with every move. A great axe was chained to its back. Its eyes burned with a hollow white fire.
"Let me guess," Elijah said. "Not here to talk?"
The creature let out a guttural roar and charged.
Elijah ducked the first swing. Karu moved in with eerie grace, deflecting a follow-up blow. The chamber shook with every strike.
Selene opened fire, her bullets doing little more than drawing its attention.
Elijah called upon the shadows and sent a wave of death magic at the creature. It staggered—but didn't fall. It simply turned and snarled, then slammed its axe into the floor. A shockwave of necrotic energy surged outward.
Selene was thrown against a pillar.
Elijah skidded back, coughing. He wiped blood from his lip. His hand throbbed—and the second segment of the symbol on his skin flared.
He felt a voice inside his mind. A name.
A bond forming.
Elijah stood tall, lifting his hand.
"Awaken."
From the ground beneath the guardian, shadow bloomed—and then she rose.
The second of the Triad.
A lich, her skin porcelain pale, eyes glowing a deep amethyst. Her long, silver-white hair floated behind her as if suspended in water. She wore ornate robes etched with runes, and magic poured from her like a rising tide.
Her name formed in Elijah's mind: Vaelith.
Without needing orders, Vaelith extended her hands—and chains of pure energy lashed out, binding the guardian. She spoke a word in a forgotten language, and spectral fire erupted from her palms.
The guardian screamed.
Elijah didn't hesitate. He surged forward, summoning Karu at his side, and together they struck—steel and shadow, fire and bone.
The guardian collapsed, its body crumbling into ash.
Silence returned to the chamber.
Vaelith turned to Elijah and bowed slightly.
"I have waited long," she said, her voice like music played on broken glass.
"Welcome back," Elijah said, his voice hoarse.
The second segment of his symbol vanished—Vaelith's mark, now active.
Selene approached slowly, bruised but standing. "Okay. That one's scary."
"Not as scary as the third," Vaelith murmured.
Elijah didn't like the way she said it.
That night, back in his apartment, Elijah stood on the balcony overlooking the Lower East Side.
Karu stood to his right. Vaelith to his left.
"I'm starting to realize this isn't just about survival," he said. "It's about structure. Control. I can't have random undead running around. If I want to make something that lasts—something worth fearing and respecting—I need ranks. Chains of command."
Karu inclined his head. "You would lead the army?"
"No," Elijah said, turning to face them both. "I'll command it. But lead? That's bigger. I want this to be something that doesn't fall apart when I'm gone."
Vaelith tilted her head. "Then you must give the Triad authority."
Elijah nodded. "You'll each take a division. I'll start drafting the structure tomorrow. Squads. Regiments. Officers."
Selene stepped onto the balcony behind him. "You're turning this into a kingdom."
"Not yet," Elijah said. "But one day. And it won't just be the dead. There'll be others."
"Like me?" she asked softly.
He looked at her and smiled. "You'll always be first."
She smiled back—but her eyes lingered on the glowing mark on his hand. Two arcs gone. One remained.
Elsewhere in the city, in a candlelit alley, a woman in a red scarf whispered to someone in a hooded cloak.
"They say the necromancer has awakened two of the Triad," she murmured.
The man nodded slowly. "And so it begins. We must find the third before he does."
"And if we don't?"
"Then the world belongs to the dead."