The bell over the shop door coughed dust when it opened.
No customers came. No one wanted cracked clocks or faded books. That was fine. The front was never meant to feed me. It was a mask, and masks don't need to eat.
The back room waited, shelves empty, a candle stub ready. I sat at the table, the corps' letter pressed flat beside a blank ledger. Compensation Denied. The words stayed red no matter how long I stared.
Umbra needed more than me. A door without walls was just an opening for anyone to walk through.
The Lexicon pulsed faintly. The page was ready.
---
Jonas was easier to find than I expected.
Not in the pit this time. In the lower blocks, hauling sacks of brick dust for coin. His frame moved slow, steady, sweat beading on his arms. He didn't complain, didn't look around, didn't hurry.
"You work after winning fights?" I asked, stepping into the shade.
He glanced at me, calm. "Fights don't feed. Work does."
"Work won't shield you when the wrong people notice your strength."
His brow furrowed slightly. "And who are you?"
"Someone who doesn't waste what he finds," I said.
The Lexicon stirred. His shimmer was the same as before—solid, patient, loyal.
A shield.
---
The second found me.
The bell clanged again, and Mara walked into the shop. Her eyes swept shelves, then landed on me.
"Antiques?" she asked.
"Only the kind no one wants."
"That makes sense," she said dryly.
She studied the rows, then me. "You're recruiting."
I kept my face still. "Am I?"
"You watch too much. You don't buy, don't sell, don't gamble. Then you open this place. Empty shelves, locked back door. You're building something."
The Lexicon hummed, her shimmer sharp but clean.
I leaned back. "And if I am?"
She didn't blink. "Then prove I should care."
---
That night, the three of us sat in the back room.
Jonas silent, arms folded. Mara sharp-eyed, testing. Me with a candle burning between us.
"This city chews people up," I said. "Corps and governments use relics like chains. Gangs swing them like knives. People like us either hide or get crushed."
Jonas stared at the flame. Mara's jaw tightened.
"I can't fight the world head-on. Not yet. But I can build something in the cracks. Something hidden. Something that protects when needed, and strikes when no one expects it."
I let the silence hang.
"Umbra."
The Lexicon pulsed, a page turning. The word settled into the air.
Jonas nodded once. "A shield," he said.
Mara's mouth curved, faint but sharp. "And a blade."
"Exactly," I said.
The candle flame leaned, shadows climbing the walls like they wanted to move.
Umbra had taken its first breath.
---
Author's Note:
Umbra Foundation: First recruitment complete — Jonas (Bastion) and Mara (future blade).
Lexicon Role: Soul Sense confirms loyalty and intent.
Theme: Adrian defines Umbra's purpose — shield and blade for the oppressed, hidden in plain sight.