Soren stood in shock as the dogs feasted, the wet sound of jaws on flesh making his stomach lurch. The smell hit him next, the smell of death. Nothing about the last few days made sense anymore. His instincts screamed at him to run, and his body started to move on its own—until the man spoke.
"Run, and that trash blacksmith family back in the Lower are next. Ellric, was it? That great-aunt really did talk."
Soren froze.
Fear and pain rippled through him, crashing together and stirring something deeper than either. Rage. Cold, sharp, and focused. He forced himself to think, to take in the alley and what stood within it.
Two monsters, low and pacing, their red eyes flicking toward him. One hooded man, relaxed, watching. Stone walls on both sides. No crowd. No escape.
There were only two choices.
Run or stand and fight.
Running wasn't an option. He couldn't risk Master Ellric's family. He wouldn't let them be dragged into this. If there were answers to be had, they were here. And if this ended with blood, it wouldn't be Ellric's.
The hooded figure reached up and lowered his hood. Black hair fell loose around his face, messy and unbothered, like he'd just rolled out of bed. He smiled as he spoke, his tone cocky, almost amused.
"Now we're talking, you little shit. I almost lost myself there for a moment. These Echo fragments can be a pain to handle."
He tilted his head, studying Soren.
"You might've gotten along with that girl if I hadn't gotten to her first."
Something in Soren's chest tightened, sharp enough to steal a breath. He let it pass without letting it show. He needed this man talking.
"What do you want with me?"
The man chuckled.
"Not much, really. At first, we thought you might still have the Echo crystal. Turns out our intel was wrong."
He shrugged.
"We've been looking for you, you know. Hard to track someone who doesn't even know what he is."
Soren said nothing.
"Lucky for us," the man continued, "when you got snatched by that little princess trying to play hero, it cracked whatever seal they slapped on you."
His smile widened.
"Made you visible. Made you easy to find."
Soren's jaw tightened.
"And now that we know you don't actually understand where an Echo crystal is?"
The man spread his hands.
"We don't need you."
One of the dogs growled low, shifting its weight.
"But before you try to run," he added casually, "I like to have a little fun with my prey."
His eyes flicked briefly to the dark spiral hidden beneath Soren's shirt.
"I'm curious what a partially awakened Crest wielder can do."
"So here's the deal, I'll let my two dogs get a go at you first, let's see what you can do. When they're done, I'll step in… but you should know, I never take it easy"
As if those monsters, or whatever they were, could understand speech, they dashed toward Soren.
He had no weapon. His first instinct was the guard's sword lying just beyond them.
His back flared, not with pain but with energy, a sudden surge that flooded his limbs. He felt it then, power rushing from the Crest across his back and spilling into his muscles. He launched himself forward, the ground cracking beneath his feet, stone collapsing into a shallow crater where he'd stood.
He had always been fast, but this was different.
The dogs reacted instantly, as if drawing on the same force, moving to cut him off. One lunged low, jaws snapping open to reveal rows of blood-slicked teeth. The other sprang up the wall, claws scraping stone before it kicked off, twisting midair and slashing down toward him.
Soren's body moved before thought caught up.
He slid just wide of the first dog's bite, then planted a hand on the dog as it passed and shoved himself sideways as the second came down. He almost cleared it.
Claws tore through his shirt and raked across his back, hot and deep.
Pain burst through him, dragging a grunt from his throat. His shirt soaked through, fabric clinging wetly to his skin, but he didn't slow.
His hand closed around the fallen sword as he skidded to a stop. The leather-wrapped hilt was soaked with blood, the weight feeling awkward in his hand. He forced himself upright, pain flaring again as blood ran down his back. Too deep to ignore. Not deep enough to stop him.
He turned just in time to see the first dog scrambling upright where it had hit the wall. The stone behind it was shattered, caved inward like something had exploded there.
No time to think about that.
The dog launched itself at him again.
Soren didn't think.
He swung clumsily.
The blade cut through the air where instinct told him the creature would be. It connected with a sickening resistance, then none at all. The dog split apart mid-leap, its body coming undone as black ichor rained down, soaking his white shirt dark.
The second beast was already moving.
It slammed into him before he could reset, claws carving into his side. Soren twisted at the last instant, the blow tearing flesh instead of opening him up completely. Pain flared once again.
He used the momentum to spin, driving a hard kick into the creature's ribs. The dog slammed into the wall with a heavy crack and dropped, stunned for just a breath.
Soren didn't waste it.
He stepped in and drove the crude blade down through its skull.
The man spoke again as he took a step forward.
"Well, fuck. That was pretty impressive. You're fast, but I reckon you don't actually know how to swing a sword."
Soren's breaths came heavy, ragged, exhaustion and pain weighing him down.
"Really? Your two dead beasts say otherwise."
The man huffed a short laugh.
"Fair point. But those two were some of the weaker Umbrals. We mostly use them for tracking. Decent bite, though—matches their bark."
He pulled back his long coat, revealing a row of daggers pressed flat against his waist.
"They did exactly what they were meant to. Followed you for a few days. And the only reason you can even see them now is that shiny new Crest on your back."
His hand moved faster than Soren could track.
A dagger tore through the air.
He was fast.
Soren moved too late. The blade punched into his left shoulder, and pain exploded through him, freezing his body at its breaking point. Before he could even gasp, a boot slammed into his chest. He felt ribs crack as the force hurled him backward, his body skidding down the alley stones. He fought to keep hold of the sword, but the blood-slick grip slipped free and clattered behind him.
The man advanced at an easy pace.
"You see, you're outmatched. I could've killed you whenever I wanted."
He shrugged.
"But I like to have a little fun with my food."
His gaze flicked down at Soren.
"I think I'm done playing. Got another job to get to."
As he took another step forward, Soren understood it then.
He was never going to win this.
He was weak. He had spent his entire life running. This was what happened when you let yourself stay that way.
Now he was going to die.
"I refuse," Soren choked out through the pain. "I refuse to be weak anymore."
"I refuse to run."
Something ignited in his chest as he pushed himself back, an energy born of desperation, fear, and resolve.
As Soren dragged the blade back toward himself, his back flared. The Crest burned. Power surged outward, tearing the fabric over it to shreds. When he swung, the blade bloomed purple, the air around it warping and distorting as if it no longer fully existed.
He slashed at his would-be killer.
He missed.
The assassin leapt back instinctively.
"Shit—that was close—"
The arc of violet energy followed the swing a heartbeat later. It tore through him.
There was no blood. The slash didn't cut so much as erase, disintegrating the space it passed through. The man's body split cleanly in two, both halves collapsing onto the stone.
For a moment, Soren felt relief.
Then the pain hit.
His body burned from the inside out, his limbs suddenly impossibly heavy. He collapsed forward, face-first onto the stones, the blade clattering from numb fingers. He tried to move. Nothing answered.
He'd lost too much blood, and whatever he'd just done had drained him beyond anything he understood.
As darkness crept in at the edges of his vision, he forced his head up one last time.
A man stepped out from the end of the alley, letting out a low whistle.
"Impressive. Didn't think you had it in you."
The last thing Soren saw before the black took him completely was the long burn mark rising from beneath the man's collar, climbing up his neck.