Page 108 of Shadowvein

The officer studies it, then looks at me again. This time, his uncertainty is gone.

“You’ll come with us back to the nearest outpost.”

“Is that really necessary?”

The officer’s demeanor changes immediately. His hand moves to his weapon as he addresses the other patrol members. “Full security protocol.Now.”

Weapons are leveled at us as they spread into an offensive formation. Two crossbows are trained directly on me, another on Ellie, while another draws his sword and points it at Tisera.

They move well. Disciplined. One step to fan. Two to anchor. A formation built for containment, not warning.

Not that it’ll save them.

“Stand still,” the officer commands. “Any movement you make will be considered hostile.”

Time slows around me, stretching into a familiar clarity that always comes before violence. The world narrows, sharpens. My heartbeat steadies as I catalog every detail. The patrol's impeccable formation, the way they’ve positioned themselves to eliminate escape routes, each man positioned to cover another's vulnerable areas. Their weapons don’t waver. Their eyes are hard and focused. They move with the confidence of predators who’ve never become prey.

Professional. Thorough.Doomed.

A cold satisfaction settles in my chest. These men with their crossbows and Authority insignia, so confident in their power stand before me, so utterly blind to what they’re facing. They think they've trapped a rabbit when they've cornered a wolf. The void thrums, eager and hungry.

I smile.

“Itishim!” Realization and fear crystalizes in the lieutenant’s eyes. His pupils contract to pinpoints. “It’s the Shadowvein abomination. We need to?—”

I move.

“Drenith.” I release the word like a pulse.Loosen the body. Split the space.

Darkness doesn’t merely flow out of my body, iteruptsfrom my core like a starved beast finally unleashed. Veins run black beneath the surface of my skin as shadows pour between my fingers. Not summoned, but released. The darkness flows viscous as oil but colder than the void between stars, carrying with it the scent of iron and ozone.

Light doesn’t just dim. It collapses,consumed.

The officer’s voice shatters mid-command, the sound swallowed by the churning dark. Crossbow bolts whistle through the black haze, cutting paths that seal themselves behind the projectiles. The soldiers’ breathing turns ragged, panicked. I taste their fear in the air, sharp and acrid.

They fire at nothing, because I’m already among them.

My blade materializes in my hand, flowing from its scabbard without me ever touching it. Void-born. Bone-hungry. The weight settles into my palm with the familiarity of a lover’s touch. The edge gleams with an inverted light, painful to perceive, impossible to ignore.

The first soldier doesn’t even see me. One moment he stands ready, the next my face is inches from his, close enough to count the beads of sweat on his upper lip, to see my reflection in his widening pupils.

“Kharis.”Unmake the structure.

My blade drives through his chest with a sound like wet canvas tearing. His spine bows backward, bones splintering around the sword’s edge with audible cracks. His mouth gapes in silent agony as his ribcage collapses inward, folding like paper. Hot blood sprays across my face, metallic and sweet. I pull my sword free, and pivot.

The second stares, jaw slack. Recognition dawns in his eyes. Stories made flesh, nightmares given form. His throat works convulsively. I don’t wait for him to find his voice. The blade tears across his chest, parting armor, skin and bone with equal ease. The breastbone splits with a sound like green wood breaking.

“Zareth.”Silence the voice.

The scream building in his throat becomes a wet gurgle. His lungs spasm visibly beneath the gaping wound. Blood floods his mouth, painting his teeth crimson before spilling over his chin in thick rivulets. His hands flutter uselessly at the wound, fingers slipping in his own blood as he crumples. His body hits the ground with a thud, twitching in a spreading pool of black.

The officer fires blindly, the mechanical click of his crossbow echoing in the unnatural silence. I slip through shadow, emerging behind him before he can reload. One hand seizes his jaw, fingers digging into the soft flesh beneath, wrenching his head back until tendons strain. My blade slides beneath his sternum and drives upward, the resistance of flesh giving way to the softer penetration of organs.

“Norav.”Empty the vessel.

His limbs convulse violently against mine. Veins surface beneath his skin, bulging before blooming black, spreading like ink through water. His pulse stutters against my fingers, then halts mid-beat as though time itself has stopped within him. His body doesn’t fall but collapses inward, deflating around the void I’ve carved into his core. The sound, like wet cloth being wrung out, mingles with the copper scent of fresh blood.

The lieutenant fights differently. When darkness claims his vision, he doesn’t flinch or flail. He cuts toward where I was, not where I am, his movements crisp and deliberate. Muscle memory guides him. Experience steadies him. He knows how to fight in the dark.

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