Chapter 5 — Hired Shadows
The hum of Aetherion's systems filled the underground lab — a soft, rhythmic pulse of machinery, data streams, and glowing holo-screens. Volt leaned against the glass railing above the reactor core, half-distracted by the dancing sparks from his fingertips.
Kai sat slouched on a bench, headphones loose around his neck, eyes half-closed but still alert.
Asher stood before the central display, arms folded, studying the flickering projection of city sectors under Aetherion's surveillance grid.
The air shifted.
Two figures stepped through the reinforced doors without ceremony — their presence dark, deliberate. One trailed faint traces of crimson mist; the other moved like a shadow woven from whispers.
Volt's smirk dropped instantly. Kai's eyes opened, a spark of recognition flickering behind the calm.
"Asher," Volt murmured, straightening, "you're getting guests."
Asher didn't turn. "I know."
The first of the two stepped forward — a man dressed in obsidian leather, eyes a deep red that glowed faintly under the lights. When he spoke, his voice was quiet but carried weight.
"Corvin. Rank 199," he said simply. "Blood domain operative."
The second leaned lazily against the doorway, silver chains draped from his wrist, faint glyphs crawling across his exposed forearm. "Marek," he drawled. "Rank 156. Curse manipulator."
Kai tilted his head. "Assassins. In our house. You two must be desperate — or suicidal."
Corvin's eyes didn't waver. "Neither. We're here on contract."
Asher finally turned to face them, his expression unreadable. "And whose contract?"
Marek's smirk twisted. "Someone with deep pockets and a grudge. The kind that can reach through the Registry's blacklist."
Volt's sparks crackled dangerously. "And what does this mystery client want?"
Corvin's crimson gaze flicked toward the holoscreen, where an image of Noah appeared — grainy, drawn from city surveillance. His voice was calm, detached.
"They hired us to eliminate him."
The room fell into a tense, electric silence.
Kai sat up, eyes sharp. "...Noah?"
Marek nodded. "Goes by Noah Reign. Civilian status. Unregistered. No awakening detected."
He paused, then smiled faintly. "But you already knew that, didn't you?"
Volt's expression darkened. "You're saying someone hired top-200 assassins for a kid with no power?"
Corvin's jaw tightened. "He's not just a kid. Intel marks him as ex-military. Former tactical commander, blacklisted from official records. Code name Reign. A ghost that shouldn't exist."
That made Asher finally move — one slow step forward, gaze sharpening like a blade.
"Ex-military," he echoed. "I see."
Kai frowned. "You're telling me he was a weapon?"
Corvin nodded once. "The strongest unawakened on record. A man built for war but never given the light. Your organization's data shows he survived three separate termination ops — alone."
Marek's grin widened. "We were told he's a traitor. A project gone wrong. Our job? Erase the evidence."
Volt's voice snapped like thunder. "And you came here for help?"
Corvin met his glare with unnerving calm. "Not help. Access. His last known signal pinged near your sector — Aetherion jurisdiction. If you want to stay off our list, you'll hand him over."
For a long, brittle moment, no one moved.
Then Asher smiled — slow, dangerous, the kind that carried more weight than threats ever could.
"You think," he said quietly, "you can walk into my house… threaten my people… and dictate terms?"
Corvin's crimson mist thickened, the scent of iron rising faintly. "We're not looking for a fight, Asher. But we will complete our mission."
Marek's eyes shimmered faintly with black glyphs. "And if you stand in the way, the curse won't be mine alone."
Kai rose, cracking his neck, a lazy grin forming. "Oh, I like these guys. They've got confidence."
Volt's lightning flared in his palms. "Yeah? Let's see how long it lasts."
But Asher lifted a hand — and the air fell dead still. Invisible pressure filled the room, sharp as a blade's edge, freezing everyone in place. The faint hum of the Aetherion core grew louder, almost like a heartbeat.
"Enough," Asher said.
His voice carried no anger, only command.
After a long silence, he turned toward the projection of Noah again. "You said he's the strongest unawakened. And your client wants him dead."
Corvin inclined his head. "Yes."
Asher's eyes glinted, calm and unreadable. "Then perhaps your client should have asked what happens when someone like that… wakes up."
The invisible pressure lifted. Volt and Kai exchanged a glance; both understood the shift immediately.
Asher's tone softened, but his gaze didn't.
"You won't touch him," he said quietly. "Not until I decide what he is."
Marek sneered faintly. "You planning to protect him?"
"No," Asher replied. "I'm planning to awaken him."
The two assassins froze, disbelief flickering across their faces.
Kai smirked, leaning against the wall. "Guess your contract just got a whole lot more complicated."
Asher turned back to the window, the faint hum of invisible force returning to the air around him.
"Corvin. Marek. You can stay in my city, but you'll follow my rules. If you're here to kill him — you'll have to get through me first."
The silence that followed was heavy. The assassins didn't argue.
For the first time, Marek's smirk faded into something like respect.
Corvin's crimson eyes flickered once, then dimmed. "...Understood."
They turned to leave — but just before exiting, Corvin glanced back. "If you awaken him… we'll need to see it. To judge it."
Asher's faint smile returned. "You'll see more than that."
The doors slid shut behind them, sealing the room in low hums and faint static.
Kai exhaled. "So we're making h
im one of us now?"
Asher's gaze stayed on the fading image of Noah. "No. We're showing him what he already is."
Rain slicked the streets in thin silver sheets, turning the neon reflections into a restless blur.
Noah walked alone, collar pulled high, the chill crawling through his jacket. The world had gone quiet since his last training with Kai — no messages, no updates from Aetherion, nothing.
Maybe that was for the best.
He needed space.
He needed time.
But even as he told himself that, a weight in his chest refused to settle. Every shadow felt too still. Every flicker in a puddle looked like eyes watching.
He was halfway across the empty avenue when a voice drifted from the alley ahead — smooth, low, and unmistakably familiar.
"Skipping class already?"
Noah froze.
She stepped out from the shadows like a wraith — hood up, coat swaying in the rain, her eyes glinting cold under the city light.
"Raven."
Her expression was unreadable. "You've been hard to track down. Asher's been patient. Kai's been annoyed. Volt's been… Volt."
Noah exhaled slowly, adjusting his bag strap. "I needed time."
"Time to hide?"
"Time to think."
Raven tilted her head slightly. "And what did thinking teach you?"
"That I'm tired of people knowing more about me than I do," he said flatly.
Her gaze lingered on him for a long moment — calm, assessing. Then she stepped closer, boots splashing through the shallow puddle between them.
"You really don't remember, do you?" she asked softly.
"Remember what?"
"The part where you're not just another lost civilian."
He frowned. "If this is another one of Asher's mind games—"
"It isn't," she interrupted. "This one's mine."
Before Noah could respond, Raven's shadow rippled.
The air around her bent — not like Volt's crackle of lightning or Asher's crushing pressure, but something quieter.
Darker.
A whisper through the dark.
Her hand moved — barely a flick — and the asphalt under Noah's feet erupted into inky tendrils. He leapt back instinctively, rolling across the wet concrete, heart pounding.
"What the hell, Raven!?"
"This isn't a fight," she said calmly. "It's a test. Asher said you're still asleep. I'm here to find out if that's true."
Noah straightened, every nerve screaming to move, to defend, to strike.
He had no power — no lightning, no cursed runes, no aura.
Just instinct.
And a lifetime of training.
She blurred forward.
Noah sidestepped the first strike, her shadow slicing through the air where he'd been a heartbeat earlier. He caught her wrist, tried to use her momentum against her — but she twisted, vanished, and reappeared behind him.
The world seemed to slow. He ducked, kicked out, swept her legs — she caught herself midair with a ripple of darkness and landed light as mist.
Raven's voice was low, almost amused.
"Unawakened, huh? Doesn't feel like it."
Noah's breath came sharp and even. "You've got a strange way of saying hello."
"I told you," she said, stepping closer. "It's a test."
The next attack came faster — shadow blades splitting from her silhouette, slicing through the rain. Noah dodged the first two, blocked the third with a loose metal bar he ripped from a signpost, and charged.
He swung low — Raven met him with her forearm, their impact cracking through the alley. The force made her stumble back, eyes flickering wide for just a second.
Noah didn't give her time to recover. He moved with the kind of precision that belonged on a battlefield, not in a street fight — every strike measured, every step efficient.
Raven's voice was steady, but quieter now. "So the reports were true. Ex-military. Weapon-class."
He didn't answer — just pressed forward.
Then her shadow moved on its own.
It lunged, wrapping around his leg, pulling him off balance.
In that moment — something shifted.
The rain slowed.
The air thickened.
And Noah's reflection in the puddle… blinked back.
Raven froze. Her instincts screamed danger.
The darkness behind Noah rippled, rising — a faint, spectral form coalescing from the puddles and shadows around him. Red eyes glowed faintly within its shape.
Not human. Not animal. Something between.
Noah didn't notice it yet — but Raven did.
Her voice was soft. "You're… manifesting."
"What?"
"The shadows around you. They're responding to you."
The phantom shape growled — low, distorted — before fading back into the wet concrete.
Noah's fists tightened. "I didn't do anything."
"That's the point," she murmured. "You didn't try. The power's moving on instinct."
Raven straightened, her tone shifting — less challenge, more warning. "You're changing, Noah. You're close to waking up… and when you do, the world will feel it."
The rain hissed louder between them. Noah glanced down, still breathing hard. "Then tell Asher to stop sending tests."
Raven's lips curved faintly. "He didn't send me."
Noah looked up sharply. "Then who did?"
Before she could answer, her comm crackled faintly — Volt's voice breaking through.
"Raven. Pull back. You've got company inbound — two high-rank signatures closing fast. Corvin and Marek."
Her eyes widened, and the rain suddenly felt colder.
She looked at Noah. "Run."
Noah blinked. "What?"
"Now!"
But it was already too late.
A c
rimson mist rolled down the street ahead — and behind it, the air warped with black glyphs.
Corvin and Marek had found their mark.