The plaza still smelled of ash, though days had passed. The stalls had been rebuilt in crooked lines, patched wood and tarps thrown together like scars. The people moved quieter, glancing over shoulders as if Fang eyes hung in the air itself.
And beneath all that silence, a whisper threaded stubbornly:
"Umbra."
It was soft, dangerous, hopeful. The kind of word that makes tyrants twitch.
Which is why Veyra finally stopped lashing the city at random.
She set a trap.
---
It began with coin. Too much coin.
Stacks of silver and relic shards moved openly through the streets, carried by Fang men with armor gleaming, weapons loose at their sides. Everyone saw it—families, vendors, even Helix agents pretending not to watch.
It was bait, fat and shining, daring Umbra to strike.
From the shop balcony, I watched the parade crawl toward the East Ward. Jonas leaned beside me, arms crossed, steady as ever. Mara crouched on the railing, knife twirling between her fingers.
"They want us to bite," she said.
Jonas rumbled low. "They want heads."
"They'll get broken teeth instead," she muttered.
I narrowed my eyes at the glittering line of guards. The Lexicon thrummed heavy under my ribs, pages restless. Threads shimmered around the march—pride, greed, but also fear strung tight.
"They don't expect us to be smart," I said finally. "They expect us to be angry. And that's how we gut them."
Mara smirked. "Finally, something fun."
---
That night, we gathered in the backroom. Candlelight flickered over the map, shadows bending across the walls.
"Twenty men," I said, tracing their route. "Six at the front, six at the rear, eight around the cart itself. All armed, all loud."
Mara leaned close, eyes glinting. "So we burn the cart, slit their throats, and—"
"No," I cut her off. "That's what they want. They'll have more waiting, hidden. Helix will be watching too, pretending it's just curiosity."
Jonas frowned. "Then we leave it?"
"We don't leave anything," I said. "We change the story. If Fang wants us to look greedy, we'll make them look like fools instead."
Mara tilted her head. "How?"
I pulled a small pouch from under the table. Inside: shards of glass, powdered chalk, a relic I'd borrowed from Jonas' last haul. A simple thing, dull bronze with faint etchings.
"Signal Flares," I said. "Uncommon relic. They burn bright enough to blind, crack loud enough to wake half the sector. Tonight, Fang's own parade will choke on smoke while the city laughs at their blunder."
The Lexicon pulsed warm, approving.
---
The strike came at midnight.
Mara and I moved along the rooftops, shadows stretching long across the East Ward. Jonas anchored the alley where the cart would pass, silent, immovable.
The Fang men marched below, swaggering, shouting loud enough to cover their nerves. The cart creaked heavy with coin and shards.
At the corner, Mara dropped the first flare.
It cracked open like thunder, spilling white smoke and sparks across the street. Fang men shouted, coughing, eyes blinded. The horses screamed, rearing in panic. The cart jolted, wheels snapping against stone.
I hurled the second flare into the rear. Light seared, smoke rolled thick. The guards stumbled, slashing at shadows that weren't there.
Jonas stepped into the chaos, not striking—just standing, blocking the only escape path. Fang eyes widened at the sight of him, fear choking louder than smoke. They swung, but every blow glanced off his arms, every lunge thrown aside.
And then, as sudden as it began, the smoke cleared.
The cart lay on its side, coin scattered into gutters, shards broken under hooves. The guards coughed, stumbled, smeared black with soot. And above them, rooftops whispered with laughter—Mara's voice echoing through alleys, taunting without face.
"Umbra sends thanks for the show!"
By dawn, the market buzzed with stories. How Fang's mighty parade had tripped on its own coin. How Umbra had turned their trap into humiliation.
And Veyra? She was silent that morning. Too silent.
Which made her more dangerous.
---
Back in the shop, the candle burned low, wax puddling steady. Jonas sat, bruises dark along his arms. Mara leaned on the wall, grin wide as she twirled her blade.
"They looked like fools," she said. "Best fun I've had in weeks."
Jonas rumbled, "They'll strike harder."
"They will," I agreed. I set the pouch of broken shards on the table, chalk dust spilling like ash. "But now the city laughs at them. And laughter is harder to silence than whispers."
The Lexicon pulsed deep, pages settling.
We hadn't just cut stones from Veyra's wall. We'd cracked her pride.
And pride breaks louder than bone.
---
Author's Note (Relic):
Signal Flares (Uncommon Tech Relic): Small bronze capsules that burst into blinding light and smoke when triggered. Used for signaling, but in Umbra's hands, perfect for confusion and humiliation.