The city slept in fragments. Some sectors kept curfews, others let the streets rot. Sector Six fell somewhere in between—lights dimmed, guards patrol half-drunk, and the gangs prowled louder than the rats.
Umbra needed a first strike.
Jonas sat across from me at the table, the candlelight turning his face into a stone carving. Mara leaned against the wall, arms folded, her stare daring me to waste her time.
I unrolled a sheet of paper on the table. A rough map of the lower blocks sprawled across it, inked in uneven lines. Circles marked alleys, stalls, and a warehouse stamped with the Fang's symbol.
"Collectors," I said. "Every third night, they sweep the blocks. They take coin from vendors, from healers, from anyone too weak to stop them. Last week they doubled their cut. Tonight, they'll bleed instead."
Jonas nodded once, slow. "A shield can take their blows."
Mara smirked. "And a blade can slip in the dark."
I pointed to the warehouse. "They store the take here. Too guarded for us now. But the collectors are softer. We hit them, take their coin, and return it to the ones they stole from. Quiet. No one sees our faces. They'll know Umbra exists, but they won't know who we are."
The Lexicon pulsed warm in my chest, as if marking the page.
---
We found the collectors near midnight.
Three men, red jackets, swagger thick with drink. They pushed through the market alleys, sack heavy with stolen coin. Vendors watched with lowered eyes, too used to swallowing shame.
Jonas stepped into their path. He didn't speak, just stood broad and steady, a wall of flesh and bone.
One laughed. "Move, wall."
They swung first. Jonas absorbed the blows, his body unmoving, fists curling like iron. He stepped once, drove his fist forward. A crack echoed. One man dropped.
The second lunged. Jonas twisted his wrist—snap. The man howled, crumpling.
The third froze, sweat beading at his temple. Mara moved from the shadows, blade flashing at his throat. Her smile was sharp. "Run."
He dropped the sack and bolted.
Jonas lifted the sack and handed it to me. Heavy with stolen coin.
---
We didn't keep it.
At the hospital ward, Mara slipped through the shadows, placing the sack in the nurse's hands. "From nowhere," she whispered. "Don't ask."
The woman trembled, tears bright in tired eyes. She didn't ask. Children in the ward would eat tomorrow. Wounds would close.
Red Fang would wake to missing coin and pride.
Umbra would wake stronger.
---
Back in the shop, the candle burned low.
Jonas sat silent, calm. Mara sharpened her blade. I wrote the first entry into the ledger.
"Umbra struck tonight," I said quietly. "And no one saw the hand."
The Lexicon hummed deep, a page turning without sound.
The mask was settling. The shadow had teeth now.
And the city had its first taste of Umbra.
---
Author's Note:
Umbra's First Mission: Striking Red Fang collectors, redistributing their stolen coin to the hospital ward.
Scripture Skills Shown: Jonas' Iron Body resilience (Iron Guard) and Mara's stealth precision.