That night, Rayon experimented.
He sat alone, threads weaving through his fingers, replaying the fight. He felt it: altered perception wasn't the ceiling. It could evolve.
If he pulled just right, bent deeper, he could seize all six senses—perfect hypnosis. Touch, sight, hearing, taste, smell, even the sense of self. Total control.
The thought made his pulse quicken. He wasn't just deceiving enemies anymore. He was becoming a god inside their heads.
But power drew predators. And Rayon wasn't the only one string-born.
Kael made his move.
One night, the Forsaken Web returned from a mission to find bodies strung up outside their warehouse. Their own men. Limbs broken, faces unrecognizable, but tied neatly in glowing chains.
Rayon felt his stomach turn—not in fear, but in recognition.
Another string-wielder.
Kael appeared, tall and silent, chains woven into his flesh like tattoos. His voice was calm, sharp, certain.
"You've danced long enough, boy."
Rayon's threads met Kael's chains in a clash that split the night. Sparks flew as invisible weapons carved through walls, pulled at flesh, snapped through stone.
But Kael was stronger. Every time Rayon pulled, Kael dragged back harder.
Still—Rayon never backed down. Even when his body screamed. Even when blood dripped from his nose. Even when Kael slammed him to the ground, chains choking him.
Rayon only smirked, whispering:
"You're strong… but you're not smarter."
And his Web pulled him out in the chaos, retreating before Kael could finish it.