Niamh had drilled a single truth into Jade since the day they'd stepped into the city: be invisible, be small, let storms pass overhead. But storms that thickened and spread like oil weren't ones you simply endured. They were storms you either steered—or drowned in.
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By nightfall, Nexus was a canvas of light and shadow. Grav-cars threaded between towers, neon reflected in puddles of recycled rain, and drones hovered silently, each a tiny pulse of observation.
Jade left the shop—not openly, not without precaution, but in a way that the city would notice, if it could perceive the threads he wove. He moved along the alleyways, using shadows and reflections, allowing his presence to be felt but not pinpointed. Wherever he passed, subtle shifts occurred: a crate shifted slightly as if pushed by unseen hands, a pool of vapor shimmered and twisted with frost that vanished before touch, and holo-sensors blinked, recording anomalies they could not explain.
At the market district, low-tier mercs argued over recent raids, unaware that the boy they whispered about was already three streets over, analyzing patrol routes, noting vantage points, calculating timing. He left no traps—at least, none visible—but the knowledge of his observation spread in subtle ways. A merchant glanced upward, saw a shadow that shouldn't have moved, and shivered. A pair of Ash Rats reconsidered a shortcut and doubled back, their paranoia escalating.
This was Jade's first deliberate strike—not with blade or frost, but with perception and presence.
Every movement taught him more. Each action rippled through Nexus, forcing reactions, pulling attention into a web he controlled from the shadows. The Silent Ravens would notice, of course. They always did. But they would not understand why—not yet.
He stopped at a vantage point overlooking the docks, where grav-ships rested in silent, dark rows. Cargo crates formed mazes, and small patrols threaded between them. Jade's dual pupils swept over the scene, dissecting every thread of movement.
[DING]
[System Update]
Observation Completed: Multiple threat vectors identified.
Silent Ravens Active: 12 known human agents, 5 drone probes, 3 unidentified energy anomalies.
Recommended Action: Initiate controlled disruption.
Jade smiled faintly beneath his blindfold. Controlled disruption. That would be his move tonight.
He reached into his coat and retrieved a vial, a catalyst. A few drops on the nearest puddle, and a quiet frost spread, invisible except to those sensitive enough to feel a chill creeping up their spine. One guard glanced down, saw the reflection bend unnaturally, and swore silently. The ripple spread—small, but enough to draw attention, to make them question what was real.
And as they turned, the shadows he had left moved. Instruments of observation, micro-illusions he could create from leftover mana, projecting presence where it was not. The Silent Ravens' network was now fragmented, sensing multiple movements where there was only one boy.
Niamh and Gorvoth watched from a safe rooftop. Niamh's hands were pressed over her mouth, heart hammering. "He's… controlling them without touching them," she whispered. "The city doesn't even know he's there."
Gorvoth nodded slowly. "And that's exactly the kind of advantage that gets noticed in the wrong circles… or the right ones."
Across the city, whispers escalated. Mercs recalculated risk. Gangs hesitated before moving. Even the Spire's operatives received coded messages: anomalous activity detected. Level unknown. Proceed with caution.
Jade did not linger. He had shown the first piece of initiative—forcing the game into his hands—but he knew escalation was inevitable. The Ravens would strike again, and not all probes would be mechanical. Some would carry poison, others fire, some… more exotic arts from the interstellar fringe.
Returning to the shop, he found Niamh and Gorvoth waiting. The street below was quiet again, though a subtle tension lingered, like a held breath.
Jade did not speak immediately. He let the frost curl gently along his palms, showing nothing, feeling everything. Niamh reached for his shoulder instinctively.
"Did it… work?" she asked softly.
He finally looked at her, eyes glinting faintly beneath the blindfold. "Yes. They reacted. And now they know I'm not waiting for them anymore."
Gorvoth exhaled through his nose, pipe forgotten. " Smart. And dangerous. The city won't forget that."
"Nor will the Ravens," Jade said. His tone was quiet, measured, but it carried intent. "But that is fine. Let them come. Let them see the board. I am ready to move, and I will not be trapped in their shadows again."
...
The city outside seemed to lean closer, listening. Nexus had never been more alive, nor more dangerous. And somewhere in the shadowed halls of power, an unseen figure smiled faintly, reading the ripples of influence Jade had begun to send.
One day, perhaps, that figure would offer a promise. A challenge. A tournament. A path that would carry the boy beyond Nexus… beyond Nexarion… beyond even what the city had imagined possible.
For now, though, the game was set. And Jade had claimed the first move.
The silence that followed Jade's words was not empty. It was weighted, dense, a silence that seemed to sink into the beams of the weapons shop itself.
Outside, neon light flickered against the grime-streaked windowpanes, throwing long shadows that trembled across Gorvoth's wall of blades. The old smith leaned back on his stool, pipe unlit, eyes narrowed as though trying to measure the boy anew. Niamh's knuckles were white against the counter, her fingers trembling as though she wasn't sure whether to scold Jade or shield him.
Jade himself stood still, frost retreating slowly from his hands until nothing remained but skin that seemed too delicate for the weight of his words.
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Across Nexus, in a high-rise drowned in holographic screens and encrypted whispers, the Silent Ravens convened. Their meeting was not loud; their voices rarely rose above murmurs. But every syllable was sharp as glass.
"He misdirected three probes simultaneously." The first Raven, a woman with eyes inked solid black from her Shadow Veil [B] Talent, tapped the holo-map with one clawed fingertip. "And he's not trained. His aura is… unfocused. Raw. It shouldn't be possible."
"Not unfocused," corrected another, younger man whose veins glowed faintly green from Toxin Breath [C]. "Calculated. He led us. He wanted us to react. He's drawing patterns."
A third leaned back, silver hair tied in a severe knot. His voice was smooth, detached. "Then he understands the board. That makes him more dangerous than the gangs we break for sport. A child who knows the game is worse than an adult who stumbles blindly."
The room quieted. On the table, the feeds replayed: shadows splitting where they shouldn't, patrol routes breaking cohesion, frost glimmering on camera one frame and vanishing the next. It was artistry, and none of them liked it.
"Orders?" asked the toxin-blooded man.
The leader of this cell—the silver-haired Raven—smiled faintly. "We don't hunt him yet. Not directly. Pressure must come from all sides. We'll let the Ash Rats bite first. And when they fail, we'll swoop."
He flicked a hand, and the feeds collapsed.
"Double the probes. And make sure word spreads. Fear is a sharper blade than poison."
.....
Meanwhile, deep in the slums where neon did not reach, the Ash Rats snarled and fumed. Their leader, a gaunt man whose skin shimmered faintly with Ash Meld [C] Talent, slammed his fist into a crate, scattering sparks that hissed out before touching the damp ground.
"He humiliated us twice!" His voice cracked with rage. "A brat, a blindfolded brat, and the whole city whispers his name while forgetting ours!"
Around him, the Rats muttered, shifting uneasily. The Rats thrived on fear, but fear of Jade was beginning to eclipse fear of them.
"We'll take him tonight," one growled, his throat tattoo pulsing faintly with the glow of his Fire Spit [D] Talent. "Drag him into the gutters, let the city see his body bleed blue."
The leader sneered. "Not yet. The Ravens are watching, and they'll use us as fodder if we rush in. No—we'll bait him. Smoke him out. A child will always run when the nest burns."
He leaned forward, eyes alight with cruel certainty. "Find out what he cares about. The woman. The smith. Anything. We'll make the boy move where we want him."
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Back in the weapons shop, Gorvoth placed his hammer gently on the table and fixed Jade with a look that carried the weight of sixty years of scars.
"You understand what you've done?" he asked quietly. "You've made yourself bait. You're a scent on the wind now, and every predator in Nexus is sniffing."
Jade tilted his head, silvery-blue hair catching the lamplight. "Bait draws predators into traps. And I already set mine."
Niamh rested her head on the counter. Her voice cracked. "You should be playing, laughing, not… this."
"This isn't life, Jade. This is—this is survival, and survival like this eats you alive!"
Jade's expression softened. He reached across the counter, resting his small, cool hand on hers. "I know, Niamh. But survival has always been my life. You gave me a chance to live it. Now I have to make sure no one takes that away."
Her throat tightened.
Gorvoth exhaled smoke though his pipe wasn't lit. "Let him, Niamh. You can't keep the river from flowing. Best you can do is make sure it doesn't flood."
...
That night, the Ash Rats made their move. Fires licked at the edge of the outer market, not accidental blazes but calculated arsons. Stalls went up in smoke, holographic signs flickering, merchants screaming as flames swallowed goods they couldn't afford to lose.
Jade felt it first, his Void Sense humming like a string plucked by unseen hands. Fear. Anger. Chaos blooming like a cancer through the streets. He slipped from the shop before Niamh could catch his sleeve.
The scene was bedlam—fire painting the slums orange, shadows twisting with desperate figures. But Jade did not panic. He moved like ice through cold water, calm, deliberate. His blindfold hid the glow of his dual irises, but inside, both pupils burned, recording everything.
The Rats wanted him to rush. To break cover. To reveal attachments.
Instead, Jade raised one hand. Frost spiraled outward, unseen at first beneath the smoke. Then, suddenly, flames guttered, steam erupting as ice devoured fire. Screams turned to silence.
And then, three figures detached from the smoke, eyes gleaming. Ash Rats.
One spat fire, a torrent of liquid flame. Another's skin hardened like stone—Stonehide [E] Talent. The third melted into the ground, body shifting into smoke—Ash Meld [C] himself.
They converged.
Jade didn't move.
Frost bloomed beneath their feet, locking ankles in ice. The fire-spitter howled, flames rebounding and scorching his own arms. The stone-skinned brute roared and shattered the frost, charging forward—only to slam into an illusion Jade had left, hitting air so hard he stumbled.
From below, the leader rose from the ash, dagger in hand, aiming for Jade's heart.
And Jade smiled.
The blade plunged—into a body of ice. The real Jade stepped from the shadows behind him, frost curling from his palms. With a flick, the leader froze mid-motion, ice spreading across his chest, locking his lungs, his throat, his scream.
The others froze in horror, and in that heartbeat, Jade's system pulsed.
[DING]
+600 EXP
Jade's voice was soft as snow. "Checkmate."
The other Rats broke. Fear scattered them faster than frost could chase, leaving only their frozen leader behind, eyes wide in disbelief.
From the rooftops, unseen Ravens watched, silent and sharp-eyed.
"Not bait," murmured one. "Hunter."