Rain whispered against the rooftops that night, soft and unrelenting. The eastern winds carried the faint scent of ash — the kind born from mana fires.
A lone figure crossed the narrow bridge toward the quiet district, his cloak soaked through and heavy with soot. Each step he took left a faint trail of black water on the cobblestones.
By the time he reached the inn, the city was still eerily silent. The citizens had returned to their mechanical rhythm, unaware that beneath their feet, an entire secret had just been burned to dust.
Shadow pushed open the door. The faint creak of wood was the only sound. Inside, warm light flickered across the walls, and four familiar faces turned toward him.
Rena stood near the window, her crimson hair dim under the lamplight. Lena, Ryn, and Sera sat around the table — the smell of untouched food lingering in the air. All eyes fixed on him the moment he stepped in.
He closed the door behind him. Droplets slid off his cloak as he removed it, revealing the faint burn marks across his sleeves and the scarred gauntlet on his arm.
"You're back," Rena said quietly. Her tone held no surprise — only concern.
Shadow nodded once, his expression unreadable. He sat across from them, resting his arms on the table. For a moment, none of them spoke. The sound of the rain filled the silence.
Then Lena broke it. "You look like you've been through hell."
He gave a faint exhale — something between a sigh and a humorless laugh. "You're not far off."
Sera leaned forward, her brows furrowed. "So? What did you find?"
He didn't answer immediately. His gaze lingered on the faint steam rising from the teacup before him. Then, slowly, he began to speak.
"There's a refinement chamber beneath the eastern garrison," he said. "They've been using it to manufacture something called Azure Veil — a mana compound that suppresses emotion and free will."
Ryn's eyes widened. "That's what's been keeping the citizens in line, isn't it?"
He nodded. "The residue was everywhere. I followed it underground."
His voice grew quieter. "They were using people — children — as catalysts."
The room fell utterly still. Even the rain outside seemed to stop for a heartbeat.
Rena's hand tightened around the edge of the table. "Children?"
He met her gaze, and for the first time that night, there was a flicker of something raw in his eyes — not anger, but grief. "Pods. Dozens of them. Their mana was being refined into the Veil. The ones who survived were turned into test subjects."
Lena covered her mouth, her voice barely a whisper. "Monsters…"
"No," Shadow said softly. "Humans."
The silence stretched. The light from the lamp trembled slightly, casting their shadows across the floor — long, distorted shapes that swayed with the fire.
Finally, Rena spoke again. "Who's behind it?"
"I don't know," Shadow admitted. "But the symbol on the chamber — I've seen it before. The same one carved into the walls of the southern ruins."
"The Directorate," Ryn murmured. "It must be them."
Sera frowned. "Then this city isn't just under military control. It's a lab."
Shadow leaned back, eyes half-lidded in thought. "And the citizens are the test subjects."
Rena crossed her arms, expression cold. "If what you're saying is true, then this isn't just corruption — it's a network. One that runs deep enough to involve the Holy Land."
That name made him glance up. "You think they're connected?"
Her eyes hardened. "I don't think. I know."
The trio turned to her, startled. Rena hesitated, then sighed, brushing a hand through her hair. "Back when I was stationed near the northern frontier, I saw shipments sealed with the same crest — the serpent entwined in a cross. They were labeled as purification reagents, but the mana signature was… wrong. Now I understand why."
Lena swallowed hard. "So the Holy Land and the Directorate are working together."
Rena nodded. "At least part of them are. Which means this isn't the only place doing this."
The room fell quiet again. Only the rain spoke.
Shadow closed his eyes, the memory of the glass pods still seared into his mind — the faces, the faint whispers, the tag marked "Elen."
Finally, he spoke. "Then we expose it."
Ryn frowned. "Expose? To who? Everyone here's under control."
"Not here," he said. "Somewhere else. Somewhere the Directorate's influence hasn't reached yet."
Rena leaned forward slightly. "You're suggesting we leave the eastern city."
He met her eyes. "You have a better idea?"
She didn't answer. Instead, after a moment of silence, she gave a slow nod. "You're right. But before that… you need rest. You can barely stand."
He smirked faintly. "Since when do assassins rest?"
"Since one of them almost bled to death," she replied flatly.
The trio chuckled weakly — a sound too thin to be true laughter, but enough to break the tension for a moment.
Rena pushed a fresh cup of tea toward him. "Drink. Then sleep. We'll plan at dawn."
He stared at the cup for a long while before finally nodding and taking it. The warmth seeped through his fingers, grounding him, though it couldn't chase away the cold that still clung to his heart.
As the rain continued its quiet rhythm outside, Shadow sat in silence, the ghostly image of that underground chamber flickering behind his eyes. He didn't say it aloud, but one thought lingered, heavy and unspoken.
If humans could turn children into tools for control… what did that make him — the one who forged weapons with souls?
The storm outside deepened, echoing the weight of that question as the night drew on.