The sun never touched the training grounds of Shadow Reign. Buried deep beneath the earth, accessible only through a maze of underground passageways known to a chosen few, this was where whispers became warriors — and fear was taught to kneel.
Cid Nightfall stood silently on a platform above a vast chamber lit by eerie violet torches. Below, dozens of new recruits lined up in formation. They had no names yet — only numbers. No rank. No pride. Just trembling legs and false bravado.
He surveyed them with cold, unreadable eyes.
> "Some of you were spies. Some of you were thieves. One of you was a noble's bastard."
His voice echoed across the chamber like frost sliding over steel.
"None of that matters now. You belong to me."
The recruits stood stiff, unsure if they were expected to salute or speak.
> "Shadow Reign does not train heroes. We forge ghosts — beings who can kill an emperor in plain sight and vanish before his blood hits the floor."
A girl from the back raised her head slightly. Tall, fierce-eyed, bruised but defiant. Her number: 27.
> "What if we don't want to be ghosts?" she called.
Cid's gaze didn't flicker.
> "Then you'll die as shadows never meant to rise."
At that moment, a loud mechanical hiss echoed as a portion of the wall slid open. A cloaked figure emerged — tall, gaunt, with a metal jaw and glowing blue lenses for eyes.
> "This," Cid said, "is Instructor Vorn. He trained my generation. He'll now train you."
Vorn stepped forward, his voice like sharpened gravel.
> "Three trials. Survive two, and you pass. Fail all three, and you are erased."
The torches dimmed. The air grew colder.
Trial One: The Pit of Echoes.
The floor beneath the recruits began to shift, metal plates sliding and rearranging. A circular arena rose, jagged and bloodstained. The rules were simple: fight or fall.
Recruits vs Recruits.
Number 27 was thrown into the ring first — facing Number 8, a massive boy with a cruel grin. The fight was brutal. 8 was all brute force. 27 was quick, smart, and desperate. She ducked, rolled, used a loose boot-strap as a garrote.
Cid watched, arms folded.
8 fell, choking. 27 didn't smile. Just wiped blood from her jaw and stood straighter.
> "Interesting," Cid murmured. "That one remembers what pain is for."
From the shadows, another figure appeared — shorter, cloaked in blue. She wore a silver mask, and her presence made even Vorn step back.
> "Master Cid," she said softly. "The Council has noticed your methods."
> "Let them notice," Cid replied, never looking away from the ring.
"The world will remember me only in the silence before death."
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