Ashfall's bones rattled under a sky of concrete and storm. On the city's cracked screens, Warren Bellows' bloated face still flickered — the rumor of the Black Raven devouring him alive now gospel in every back alley and neon-lit bar.
Inside AshTV, Aria Morgan sat stiff beneath hot studio lights, lips moving smoothly over the day's dirtiest truth: "—while police refuse to comment, sources say the vigilante known as the Black Raven is linked to the Bellows case and possibly more. District Attorney Marcus Yuen has yet to release a statement—"
Behind the cameras, Marcus Fenn hovered by the feed director, eyes jumping from Aria's practiced mask to the scrawled bullet points about Moloch Horn. One monster dead, another loose. Ashfall's veins throbbed with fear — the perfect meal for Umbra's unwashed hands.
Evan Holt, field reporter, paced the side hallway with his battered camera bag, sniffing for blood. He'd overheard Reggie Slate down at the Molted Wing say "When the Raven shows, the city answers." He wanted that answer on tape, wanted to be the first fool to chase her into the dark. Fame. Or a closed casket.
---
The Molted Wing hadn't slept either. Reggie Slate leaned over his sticky bar top, wiping the same glass for the fourth time as Rowan Pierce scribbled shorthand into her battered notebook. She nursed a whiskey older than her regrets, eyes red but sharp.
"You really think she's got an endgame?" Rowan asked, tapping the rim of her glass with a chipped nail. "The Raven, I mean."
Reggie shrugged, wide shoulders rolling under an old flannel. "Birds don't make plans. They pick bones clean."
She smirked, pen scratching. "You sound like you know her."
He didn't flinch. Slate never did. "I know people. And people like her? They don't last long."
---
At the Calders' cracked kitchen table, Iris Calder tied Maya Cadee's laces while the girl hummed some half-made superhero theme. Liam leaned against the counter, scrolling his phone with practiced boredom, ears pricked for every word Nathan spat quietly into his own device — encrypted, coded, dangerous.
"—No, I said we hold the line. Umbra doesn't pay for panic—" Nathan's voice bled through clenched teeth. When he noticed Liam staring, he snapped the phone shut, forced a father's smile that didn't match his eyes.
"Everything good for school, champ?" he asked. His voice made Liam's skin crawl. Too clean. Too careful.
Iris stood, brushing crumbs off her badge holster. "I'll pick them up today," she said. "You'll be here?"
Nathan kissed her temple — muscle memory — then squeezed Maya Cadee's tiny shoulder. "Wouldn't miss it for the world."
As the door shut behind them, Liam whispered into Maya Cadee's ear. "He's lying again."
Maya Cadee just squeezed his hand tighter, eyes big and sad.
---
Detective Navarro slid into Iris's car as she started the engine outside the kids' school. He carried yesterday's coffee in a battered thermos and an unlit cigarette behind his ear — a habit Captain Voss hated but never banned.
Navarro cracked a grin. "So, Captain Voss chewing your ass yet this morning?"
Iris shot him a look. "Voss chews everyone's ass. It's how he says good morning."
They pulled away from the curb, the school shrinking behind them like a half-kept promise. Liam waved once, his eyes saying I see everything. It made Iris's stomach tighten.
"You think the Raven really gutted Bellows?" Navarro asked, flipping through his notes. "Or we got some copycat blowing up myths?"
Iris exhaled through her teeth. "Doesn't matter. Bellows deserved worse. But if she's real, she'll make a mistake. They always do."
Navarro raised an eyebrow. "You say that like you don't want her caught."
Iris didn't answer. Instead, she turned the radio to the news. Aria's voice floated through static: "...sightings of the so-called Bull King have been reported near Dockside warehouses. Citizens are advised to avoid the area—"
Navarro muttered, "First a bird, now a bull. City's a goddamn zoo."
---
Somewhere deep in Dockside, under the crumbling spine of a lab Umbra forgot to bleach clean, Moloch Horn pawed through iron beams with cracked hooves. His bulk split door frames, horns gouging concrete like butter. Lab rats scurried from their broken cages — tiny failures of science left to starve when the project folded.
Moloch's breath steamed in the dark. He smelled prey — the warm copper tang of the city's heartbeat. He rumbled low in his throat and thundered into Ashfall's bones, each step rattling neon signs loose from tired brick.
---
Silas Madox paced the warehouse's rot-soft floor. His shark grin was gone, replaced by the clenched rictus of a cornered animal. The news looped Bellows' corpse, but Silas knew it wasn't over — he felt her eyes in every flickering bulb, every drip of rain through the roof.
He tugged at his cufflinks, adjusting his thousand-dollar armor like it could stop a ghost.
A shape slipped behind him — fluid, lean, face hidden behind a battered mask of black mesh and dull steel. Twin blades gleamed at his hips, bone handles worn smooth.
"You're certain you want this, Madox?" the assassin rasped. His voice slithered, sharp and hollow.
Silas forced steel into his spine. "She comes tonight. End it."
The assassin tilted his head, the gesture inhuman. "She's better than you think."
Silas sneered. "I pay better than she kills."
The masked figure didn't answer — only stroked the blade's spine like a lover. His name was lost to the street; what he loved was the heat of a fresh vein.
---
High above Dockside, Selene crouched on a rusted crane boom, feathers of her cloak fluttering in the storm's edge. Her earpiece crackled Micah's static-laced whisper.
"Warehouse four. Silas is in deep. Six guards, and… something else. Be careful."
She rolled her shoulders, feeling the talon gauntlet bite her palm. "I'm always careful."
"Kain — don't get cocky. This isn't just muscle. Word is he hired a knife-ghost. Faster than you. He drinks the fight."
Selene smirked. "Then I'll cut his throat before he can taste it."
She slipped from the crane's arm, boots silent as the sky swallowed her.
---
Inside the warehouse, the shadows cracked when she landed. Silas spun — eyes wild, silk suit useless.
"Don't," Selene said — voice low, just for him. "I want you alive. For answers."
Silas started to stammer — then froze when the masked assassin stepped from behind stacked crates. Blades hummed from their sheaths. His grin was a ghost under steel.
"Leave him," the assassin rasped, circling her like a wolf. "He's mine. You — you're the feast."
Selene flexed the gauntlet. "You first."
He struck — blur-fast, blades flickering like lightning. Selene blocked high, ducked low, countered with a spin that nearly caught his ribs. He laughed, cut for her throat — she twisted, felt the kiss of steel at her collarbone. Blood warmed her chest.
She feinted left, slashed his side. The mask tilted, amused. Good, it seemed to say. Make me feel it.
Behind them, Silas bolted for a rusted door — but the Bull King's roar thundered from the street. Concrete rattled. A steel girder fell in the dark.
Outside, Iris and Navarro pulled up to flashing blue lights. Captain Voss barked orders through his radio — contain the Bull King, seal the docks, find the Raven. Liam's overheard rumors mixed with Maya Cadee's innocent sketches — all spiraling toward the truth Iris could never touch.
Inside, Selene bled. The assassin laughed. Silas fled into a night that would chew him up all the same.
And Ashfall whispered — Raven's wings, Raven's claws. No one safe. Not tonight.
---
END OF CHAPTER FIFTEEN