The next evening, the Golden Sanctuary felt charged with invisible tension. The air wasn't still anymore—it shimmered with expectation, as though the shadows themselves were pressing against the walls, waiting for a chance to seep in.
Mukul stood in the centre, calm but watchful. The golden threads pulsing faintly at his fingertips hummed like a heartbeat. The team had played their parts well all day, carefully laying the groundwork for their deception. Now the question was simple: would the enemy bite?
It started small. A faint ripple at the edge of Anaya's sensing field—one she deliberately let slip through. She stiffened just enough for it to be noticed, her eyes flicking in the wrong direction. To anyone watching, it looked like she'd missed something.
The shadows took the bait. A thin wisp of darkness curled closer, lingering at the edges like smoke testing a window crack.
Kavya's dagger spun lazily in her hand. She exaggerated her movements, a stylish but wasteful twirl that looked like she was burning energy. The shadows inched closer, mistaking showmanship for weakness.
Meera released an arrow—not at the shadows, but slightly late, the shot trailing a beat slower than her usual precision. The arrow still struck the mark, but the hesitation was obvious.
From above, Liyana crouched, her golden eyes narrowed. She let her bow shift slightly off target, hesitated for half a breath, then corrected. The shadows rippled with what looked like curiosity. They were learning, studying, and memorising every "mistake."
Mukul's threads carried all of this back to him. He smiled faintly. Good. They're swallowing the lies whole.
Hours passed like this—tiny staged flaws, carefully timed mistakes. The shadows didn't fully strike yet, but their probes grew bolder. A flicker in the corner of the room. A sudden drop in temperature. The faintest hiss in the dark, like laughter curling around their ears.
"Stylish patience," Liyana whispered from above. "They think we're unravelling."
"They think they're clever," Kavya muttered with a smirk, her dagger flashing again. "Let them keep thinking it."
But then, something shifted.
A sudden surge of darkness pooled at the far wall, thick and solid this time. Not a probe—an opening. From it, three shadowy figures stepped forward. Tall, faceless, but unmistakably humanoid. Their movements were sharp, deliberate. They believed they knew the team's rhythm.
Meera drew back her bow slowly, deliberately lagging again. The shadows tilted their heads in eerie unison, as if amused.
Saira knelt at Mukul's side, her hands glowing faintly with healing energy. She let the glow dim faster than normal, feigning strain.
Anaya closed her eyes as if pushing her senses to their limit. "Left flank—weak point," she said aloud, though she knew Mukul's web already caught it. It was all for the performance.
The shadows lunged, exactly where they'd been led to believe the cracks were.
Mukul's eyes flashed. The golden threads snapped alive like lightning. What had looked like loose gaps in the team's defences suddenly tightened into a net. Every step the shadows took landed exactly where Mukul wanted them.
The trap had sprung.
The figures froze mid-stride, golden threads wrapping around their limbs like glowing chains. They thrashed violently, the Sanctuary shaking with their fury, but the net only grew tighter.
Kavya laughed, her voice sharp and fierce. "Stylish enough for you?"
Meera loosed an arrow—not late this time, but perfectly timed. It pierced through the centre of one shadow, scattering its form into smoke.
Saira's hands flared, not weak but powerful, surging light into the threads to strengthen them. Anaya expanded her field suddenly, her true range catching every flicker of shadow trying to escape.
From above, Liyana's hesitation vanished. Her arrow sliced clean through another figure, pinning it to the wall in a burst of dissolving smoke.
The last shadow struggled against the golden net, twisting and writhing, but Mukul's voice was steady. "You thought you were studying us. You were only learning the script we wrote for you."
The net constricted, crushing the final shadow into nothing but smoke. Silence filled the Sanctuary once more.
But this time, the silence wasn't heavy with waiting. It was theirs.
Mukul's gaze lingered on the fading smoke. "This was just their opening act. The real puppeteer is still out there."
His team exchanged looks. The trap had worked—but the war had only just begun.