The interrogation room was cold, windowless, and designed to be psychologically uncomfortable. The captured Cult leader—the one with the silver-filigree bone mask—sat bound to a chair in the center, his mask removed to reveal a surprisingly ordinary face. Middle-aged, clean-shaven, with the kind of features that would blend into any crowd.
Selene stood before him, arms crossed, silver eyes unblinking. "Name."
"You know names don't matter," the cultist replied. His voice was steady, controlled. "I am a vessel for the Shadow Lord's will. My individual identity is irrelevant."
"Then I'll call you Vessel," Selene said without emotion. "Vessel, you coordinated operations across three districts. That level of responsibility means you have information. Ritual schedules, site locations, resource caches. I want all of it."
"I'll tell you nothing."
"Everyone says that." Selene pulled up a chair, sitting to put herself at eye level with the prisoner. "Then they realize that silence accomplishes nothing except prolonging their discomfort."
Kaelen watched from behind the one-way mirror, Lia beside him. This was his first time observing a Shadow Hunter interrogation, and it was... clinical. Selene showed no anger, no frustration. Just patient, methodical questioning.
"She's good at this," Lia murmured.
"Too good," Kaelen replied. "It's unsettling."
"Would you prefer she be bad at it?"
"I'd prefer we didn't need interrogations at all."
Inside the room, Selene continued. "Let me explain your situation, Vessel. The Shadow Hunter network has been dismantling your organization piece by piece. In the past three weeks, we've cleansed seventeen corruption sites, captured forty-three cultists, and developed a technique to permanently seal corrupted locations. Your cause is losing."
"Temporary setbacks," the cultist said. "Lord Marcus has plans you cannot fathom."
"Tell me about those plans."
"No."
Selene stood, moving to a table bearing various implements. Not torture devices—the Shadow Hunters didn't work that way—but truth-compelling artifacts. Rune-inscribed crystals that glowed with soft light.
"These are honesty stones," Selene explained, picking one up. "Dwarven craftsmanship, very rare. When activated in your presence, they make lying... difficult. Not impossible, but deeply uncomfortable. The more you resist the truth, the worse it feels."
She placed the stone on the armrest of the cultist's chair and activated it with a touch. It began to pulse with rhythmic light.
"Let's try again," Selene said. "How many active corruption sites does the Cult maintain in Eredor?"
The cultist's jaw clenched. "I... twenty-three. Twenty-three active sites."
"There," Selene said approvingly. "That wasn't so hard. What are their locations?"
The interrogation continued for two hours. By the end, Selene had extracted a wealth of information: site locations, ritual schedules, supply routes, and—most importantly—hints about Marcus's larger plan.
"He speaks of a 'convergence,'" the cultist said, his resistance finally broken by exhaustion and the relentless pressure of the honesty stone. "A moment when all the preparations align, when the corruption reaches critical mass, when the Forbidden Blades are reunited."
"When?" Selene pressed.
"I don't know the exact timing. Marcus shares information on a need-to-know basis, and my level doesn't need to know that." The cultist's expression was defeated. "But soon. Weeks, not months. He's been gathering resources for three decades, and now all the pieces are moving into final positions."
"What about Hearteater?"
"Marcus believes he's close. There's excitement in the upper echelons, whispers of a major breakthrough in the coastal search." The cultist met Selene's eyes. "You should be afraid. When Marcus claims the second blade, your little victories won't matter anymore."
Selene thanked him with clinical professionalism and left the room. Behind the mirror, she joined Kaelen and Lia.
"Thoughts?" she asked.
"He's genuinely convinced Marcus will win," Lia said. "That kind of certainty is either fanaticism or based on real intelligence."
"Probably both," Selene agreed. "The information about the 'convergence' aligns with our own projections. If Marcus is planning something major, it'll happen when he has multiple advantages aligned—corrupted nodes destabilizing, Hearteater recovered, our forces scattered."
"So we don't let those advantages align," Kaelen said. "We accelerate our site cleansing, we support Tomas in delaying the Hearteater search, we consolidate our forces instead of scattering them."
"Easier said than done," Selene replied. "We're already operating at capacity. To move faster would require taking risks, cutting corners, exposing ourselves to retaliation."
"Then we take those risks," Kaelen said firmly. "Because if the alternative is giving Marcus time to perfect his plans..."
"The risks might be worth it," Selene finished. She was quiet for a moment, calculating. "Alright. New strategy. We hit three sites simultaneously—different teams, coordinated timing. It'll stretch us thin, but it'll triple our impact in a single night."
"When?" Lia asked.
"Three days. That gives us time to plan, rest, and prepare." Selene's silver eyes glinted. "Meanwhile, I'm sending a message to Tomas. If Marcus is close to finding Hearteater, we need eyes on whatever he's doing. Even if we can't stop him, we can at least know when he succeeds."
They spent the rest of the evening planning the tri-site operation. Maps covered every surface, routes carefully calculated, contingencies prepared for every conceivable complication. It was exhausting work, but necessary.
As midnight approached, Selene dismissed them. "Get rest. Clear heads are as important as sharp blades."
Kaelen and Lia walked back to their quarters in the warehouse's upper level. The building was quiet, most of the Shadow Hunters either on patrol or already asleep.
"Weeks, not months," Lia said quietly. "That's not much time."
"No," Kaelen agreed. "But it's what we have."
"Are you scared?"
Kaelen considered lying, then decided against it. "Terrified. Every time I use Soulrender, I'm reminded that I'm twenty-one Scars away from becoming a monster. Every day that passes, Marcus gets closer to his goals. Every victory feels temporary because we know he's planning something bigger."
"But?" Lia prompted.
"But I'm also more prepared than I was when this started. Stronger, smarter, surrounded by people who actually give a damn. That has to count for something."
They reached Lia's door first. She paused, one hand on the handle, looking back at him. "Thank you."
"For what?"
"For being honest. For not pretending you have all the answers." She smiled slightly. "For being scared and fighting anyway. That's actual courage, not the fake kind."
Before Kaelen could respond, she'd slipped into her room, the door closing softly behind her.
He stood there for a moment, processing, then continued to his own quarters. Inside, he stripped off his coat and sat on the bed, Soulrender across his lap.
"You heard the interrogation," he said to the blade. "Weeks until something big. What do you think?"
*We think the cultist was truthful,* Soulrender replied. *Marcus is not a patient man who has suddenly become patient. He has been patient for thirty years, which means he is approaching his endgame. When he moves, it will be decisive.*
"Can we stop him?"
*Honestly? We do not know. You have grown formidable, wielder. But Marcus has resources, knowledge, and time-tested cunning. The outcome is uncertain.*
"That's not comforting."
*Truth rarely is. But consider: uncertainty means possibility. As long as the outcome is not predetermined, you have a chance. That is more than most who face impossible odds can claim.*
Kaelen lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Somewhere in the coastal regions, Tomas was tracking Marcus's search for Hearteater. Somewhere in Eredor, twenty-three corruption sites pulsed with malevolent energy. Somewhere beyond the horizon, the Shadow Lord waited in his prison, patient and hungry.
And here, in a converted warehouse that smelled of old wood and rune-lights, a former knight with a cursed sword tried to figure out how to save a world that had already failed him once.
*Sleep,* Soulrender advised. *Tomorrow brings new battles. You will need your strength.*
For once, Kaelen took the sword's advice without argument.
Tomorrow would bring challenges enough. Tonight, he would rest.
And dream of a future where courage was enough to turn uncertainty into victory.