Max trailed them from the rooftops quietly from the shadows.
The city below was quiet, but not lifeless—the usual patrols crisscrossed the streets, guards barked orders at stragglers, and the faint hum of rune-lamps whispered in the air. Yet the three masked men he followed moved through it all like shadows carved out of stone.
Minutes stretched into what felt like hours. Max expected at least a word, a nod, even the faintest exchange of gestures—but there was nothing. They didn't speak, didn't tilt their heads, didn't even spare glances toward each other.
The silence between them wasn't natural. It was eerie.
Max narrowed his eyes. 'Not even assassins move like this. No subtle hand signals, no coded taps, no glances. Nothing. Just… walking.'
He adjusted his position, leaping silently across to the next roof. Still, he found nothing—no break in their formation, no sign of individual thought.
A chill scraped down his spine.
