With his legend growing, Rayon tested his reach. He sent the Forsaken Web on their first large-scale mission: a robbery not for gold, but for information.
While nobles feasted in their marble halls, Rayon's people slipped through shadows, guided by strings tugging locks and bending guards' senses.
They struck a records hall in the noble district, stealing names, debts, alliances—secrets worth more than coin.
When Rayon spread those secrets through the city, blackmailing some and breaking others, nobles panicked.
For the first time in decades, slum rats pulled strings on kings.
But while the Web grew fat on secrets, Rayon felt it—eyes watching him. Not Coil. Not nobles. Something else.
The "something else" came in steel.
A noble house, humiliated by Rayon's blackmail, sent their knight-commander to kill him personally. Not an assassin—an armored monster of a man, body covered in scars, aura like a storm.
He found Rayon in the streets, in front of his people, and challenged him.
"Rat. You think shadows make you strong? I'll show you what real power feels like."
The fight was brutal. No illusions, no traps. Rayon ducked heavy swings, strings sparking against steel. Every blow felt like thunder, and for the first time, Rayon's body strained. His ribs cracked, his fists bled, but he never backed down.
When the knight pinned him, sword raised to kill, Rayon smirked through blood.
And the knight's eyes glazed over. His senses—sight, sound, pain—shifted under Rayon's perfect hypnosis. He saw himself swinging down, but his blade turned on his own gut.
The crowd gasped as the knight collapsed in a pool of his own blood.
Rayon stood over him, chest heaving, but victorious.