The drainage tunnel reeked of mildew and stagnant water, and the flashlight's beam barely cut through the thick darkness. Lin Che walked behind Li Wei, his boots splashing in shallow puddles, while Su Qing and Xiao Ya followed close behind—Xiao Ya's small hand clamped tightly around Su Qing's wrist.
"The guards are ahead," Xiao Ya whispered, her voice trembling. "The plants in the walls say they're leaning against the grate. Talking. Drinking something."
Li Wei slowed, dimming the flashlight to a faint glow. "Stay against the wall," he murmured. "I'll go first. If I can take them by surprise—"
Lin Che shook his head, placing a hand on Li Wei's shoulder. "We go together. Two guards—four of us. We can take them quietly."
Li Wei nodded, adjusting his grip on the crowbar. They inched forward, the sound of the guards' laughter growing louder. The tunnel widened slightly, and ahead, Lin Che saw it: a metal grate, blocking the path, with two men leaning against it—Syndicate enforcers, their black robes unbuttoned at the collar, a bottle of cheap liquor passing between them.
"…and Old Man Zhao says the ritual'll be done by midnight," one enforcer slurred. "Once the darkness wakes, we'll be kings. No more taking orders from the city council—"
His voice cut off as Li Wei lunged forward, swinging the crowbar at his head. The enforcer grunted, collapsing to the ground. The second enforcer jumped, reaching for the radio at his waist, but Su Qing tackled him, slamming his head against the tunnel wall. He went limp.
"Quick—tie them up," Lin Che said, pulling rope from his pocket. They bound the enforcers' hands and feet, gagging them with pieces of their own robes, then dragged them into a small side alcove, out of sight.
Li Wei turned back to the grate, examining the lock. "Rusted, but not too bad," he said, pulling out his lockpick set. He knelt down, his fingers moving quickly, and after a minute, there was a soft click.
He pulled the grate open, and a wave of cold air rushed in—carrying the faint hum of Arcane energy. "The core chamber's just through here," he whispered.
They stepped through the grate, into a narrow stone corridor. The walls were lined with old pipes, and the air felt charged—like static before a storm. The flashlight's beam caught something on the floor: faint red glow, seeping through cracks in the stone.
"Shadow Shard energy," Su Qing said, her voice tight. "They're already preparing the ritual."
Xiao Ya's hands glowed green, and she pressed them to the wall. "The plants in the chamber say there are lots of people—dozens of enforcers. And Old Man Zhao. He's standing by a big stone altar. The Shards are on it—so many of them. Their darkness is… hungry."
Lin Che's jaw tightened. Dozens of enforcers. He glanced at the pouch with the light shard and Shadow Shard at his belt—its silver glow now bright enough to cast light on the corridor. "We need to get to the altar," he said. "The light shard is the only thing that can stop the ritual. But we can't fight all of them—we need a distraction."
Li Wei nodded, pointing to a valve on the wall. "These pipes carry old machine oil—still flammable, if I'm right. If I open the valve and light it… the fire will draw the enforcers away. You three can slip into the chamber and get to the altar."
Su Qing's eyes widened. "But the fire—what if it gets out of control? The whole factory could burn down."
Li Wei shrugged. "Better the factory than the whole city. And it's abandoned anyway—no one lives here. It's our best shot."
Lin Che hesitated, then nodded. "Do it. But be careful. Once the fire starts, meet us at the back exit—we'll need to get out fast after we stop the ritual."
Li Wei grinned, pulling a matchbox from his pocket. "You got it. Go—wait for my signal."
Lin Che, Su Qing, and Xiao Ya crept forward, the corridor leading them to a set of metal double doors. Through the cracks, Lin Che could see light—faint red and orange, from the Shadow Shards and the ritual torches. He could hear the low murmur of chants, in the same guttural language he'd heard at the forest ritual.
A minute later, there was a loud hiss from behind them—the sound of oil rushing through the pipes—followed by a whoosh of flame. Shouts echoed through the corridor: "Fire! The tunnel's on fire!"
Lin Che pushed the double doors open, and they slipped inside.
The core chamber was vast, its ceiling lost in darkness. In the center, a stone altar stood, covered in Shadow Shards—dozens of them, pulsing with sickly red light. Old Man Zhao stood at the altar, his hands raised, chanting. Around him, Syndicate enforcers knelt, their heads bowed—except for a handful who were now rushing toward the corridor, drawn by the fire.
"The light shard," Su Qing whispered. "You need to get close enough to touch the altar. The light will neutralize the Shards' energy."
Lin Che nodded, gripping the light shard tightly. He slipped through the gaps between the kneeling enforcers, his heart pounding. No one noticed him—they were too focused on the ritual, on the hum of Arcane energy filling the chamber.
He was ten feet from the altar when Old Man Zhao's eyes snapped open.
"You!" he snarled, pointing at Lin Che. "The Star Marrow bearer! I should have killed you when I had the chance!"
The enforcers looked up, their eyes narrowing. Lin Che ran, the light shard glowing brighter, and jumped onto the altar. He held the light shard over the Shadow Shards—and the moment it touched them, everything changed.
The light shard burst into silver flame, and the Shadow Shards' red glow dimmed. The hum of Arcane energy turned to a high-pitched whine, and the altar shook. Old Man Zhao screamed, falling to his knees, as the Shadow Shards began to crack—small at first, then spreading, until they shattered into dust.
The enforcers panicked, scrambling to their feet. Some ran for the exits, others drew their weapons—but it was too late. The ritual was broken. The darkness wasn't coming.
Lin Che jumped off the altar, grabbing Su Qing and Xiao Ya's hands. "Let's go!" he shouted.
They ran toward the back exit, Li Wei meeting them halfway—his clothes smudged with ash, but unharmed. "The fire's spreading!" he yelled. "We need to get out now!"
They burst through the exit, into the cool night air, and ran—away from the factory, away from the Syndicate, away from the fire that now lit up the sky.
Behind them, the old factory's walls creaked and groaned, then collapsed—burying the remains of the Shadow Shards under tons of brick and metal.
They didn't stop running until they reached the edge of the slums, collapsing onto a patch of grass, their chests heaving. The night sky was clear, and the stars shone brightly—no sign of the darkness that had threatened to consume them.
"We did it," Su Qing said, her voice breathless, tears streaming down her face.
Lin Che nodded, looking at the light shard in his hand—it now glowed softly, its silver light warm. Xiao Ya hugged him, laughing through her tears, and Li Wei clapped him on the back.
But as Lin Che looked at the burning factory in the distance, a thought lingered: Old Man Zhao. He hadn't seen him escape. Had he been trapped in the collapse? Or had he gotten away?
And what about the other Shadow Shards? Jax had said the Syndicate was gathering them—but had they found all of them?
He pushed the thoughts aside, for now. They'd stopped the ritual. They'd saved the city.
For now, that was enough.
He closed his hand around the light shard, feeling its warmth. The journey wasn't over—not yet. But for the first time in a long time, Lin Che felt hope.
The darkness was still out there. But so were they.
And they would keep fighting.