Deep within the city's shadowed underbelly, in a room that smelled of cold steel and colder ambition, a contract was sealed.
"He calls himself Lyno," a man cloaked in shadow rasped, his voice like grinding stones. He slid a small, exquisitely carved box across a darkwood table. "No one knows where he came from. He appeared, annihilated a class-seven Imperial Golem with a flick of his wrist, and now has the Mad Sage Zathra acting as his personal servant. He is a disruption. An anomaly that threatens the balance of our operations."
Across the table, a figure lounged in a high-backed chair, almost invisible in the gloom. All that could be seen were two sharp, amethyst eyes that seemed to drink the light, and the glint of silver hair.
"Annihilated?" a soft, melodic voice purred. "That's a strong word."
"It's the only one that fits," the man in the cloak insisted. "It was... unmade. Wiped from existence. Our best Seers looked at the crater he left. They said it wasn't an explosion of energy, but an application of finality. They said that piece of the world is now fundamentally, axiomatically... over."
The figure in the chair shifted, leaning forward into a sliver of moonlight. The movement was utterly silent, as fluid and dangerous as spilled mercury. Seraphina Vex, the assassin known only as "Shadow's Kiss," revealed her face. It was a masterpiece of lethal beauty, all sharp angles and predatory grace. A small, cruel smile played on her lips.
"So, the guilds are scared," she concluded. "They want the anomaly... removed."
"Permanently," the cloaked man confirmed. "The bounty is inside."
Seraphina's slender fingers ghosted over the box, then casually flicked it open. Inside, nestled on a bed of velvet, was a single tear-shaped diamond the size of a pigeon's egg—the Heartstone of Olaris. It was a king's ransom. More than enough to buy a small country.
She hummed in appreciation, a low, dangerous sound. "Consider it done."
With a whisper of movement, she was gone. The room was empty, save for the cloaked man, who finally let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.
The Shadow's Kiss had never failed a contract.
Meanwhile, Lyno was having the best moment of his day.
Valerius, in his fanatical quest for ceremonial perfection, had declared Lyno's cheap tin kettle and slightly-chipped mug to be "heretical insults to the divine leaf." He had stormed out of the bookstore on a mission to "requisition appropriately consecrated vessels," leaving Lyno blessedly, beautifully alone.
The quiet was so profound it felt like a soft blanket.
Lyno was even eating his lunch—a simple sandwich with cheese and a slightly wilted lettuce leaf. He had salvaged it from his satchel, a bit squashed but still edible. He was sitting on a crate in the alley behind the bookstore, soaking up the afternoon sun.
[This is nice,] he thought, a rare wave of genuine peace washing over him. [No explosions. No crazy old men calling my chair a throne. Just me and my sandwich. This is the life.]
He took a slow, deliberate bite. The bread was a bit dry, but at this moment, it tasted like the finest ambrosia.
He was so lost in his bliss, he didn't notice the world growing darker.
He didn't notice the alley's shadows deepening, coalescing, and stretching toward him. He didn't feel the temperature drop by ten degrees.
He did, however, feel the sudden prickle of cold at his throat.
Lyno's eyes slowly, cautiously, lowered. A stiletto, thin and sharp as a needle and black as a starless night, was resting gently against his skin. It didn't even press hard enough to break the surface, yet its presence screamed of absolute death.
"One move, and you will cease to exist," a silken voice whispered directly behind his ear.
Lyno froze solid. Even the half-chewed bite of sandwich in his mouth stopped moving.
His mind, which had been enjoying a leisurely stroll, immediately broke into a full-blown panicked sprint.
[Assassin! It's an assassin! Why?! For the crater?! Are they sending assassins after people for property damage now?!]
The voice continued, a purr that vibrated through his very bones. "Tell me who you are, anomaly. Tell me why a being who can command finality itself chooses to hide in this dusty little hovel."
Finality? Anomaly? The words meant nothing to Lyno. All he heard was the razor-sharp edge in her tone. He was prey. She was the predator.
He trembled.
Not just a little shiver. It was a full-body, incontrollable quake, born of pure, distilled terror. His teeth chattered. The sandwich in his hand shook so hard the lettuce threatened to fall out.
CHK-CHK-CHK-CHK-CHK-CHK-CHK.
Behind him, Seraphina Vex felt the vibrations. Her amethyst eyes, narrowed to slits, widened in disbelief.
What is this feeling? she wondered, her legendary composure cracking for the first time in her career.
She had been trained to sense killing intent. It was a pressure, an aura that all warriors emitted, from the greenest rookie to the most hardened grandmaster.
But this... this was different.
It isn't an aura he's projecting, she analyzed with lightning speed. He isn't even directing it at me. He's... suppressing it. This violent trembling... he's fighting to hold back a wave of killing intent so vast, so cosmically annihilating, that if he were to unleash even a fraction of it, this entire city would be reduced to a memory. He isn't afraid of me. He's afraid of what he might accidentally do to me.
Her blade, which had been as steady as a mountain, wavered.
Lyno's panicked brain, meanwhile, came to a brilliant, idiotic conclusion. She wanted his sandwich.
[She's hungry! Of course! Assassins probably work up a big appetite. She threatened me to get my lunch. It's a classic back-alley shakedown, just... with a pointier knife.]
This was a problem he could solve! He wasn't a hero, but he could definitely give a hungry person a sandwich.
With painstaking slowness, driven by the desire not to get stabbed in the neck, he twisted his body slightly. He extended the hand holding the half-eaten sandwich toward her. It was a silent, desperate offering.
Squeak? A small, terrified sound escaped his throat.
Seraphina stared at the proffered meal. The slightly squashed bread. The sad-looking cheese. The wilted lettuce.
Her assassin's mind, honed to interpret the subtlest of feints and ploys, saw a thousand different meanings.
It was a test.
He's offering me sustenance, she realized, her mind reeling. It's a trial of trust. Does he want me to accept it, to break bread with him and prove I am a potential ally? Or does he want me to refuse, to prove I am an incorruptible instrument of death, worthy of his notice? It is also a profound insult—implying my motivations are as base as simple hunger! Or is it a gesture of supreme confidence, a statement that I am so far beneath him he doesn't even consider me a threat, just a beggar asking for scraps?
The layers of intent were dizzying. This was no simple warrior. This was a master of psychological warfare.
Her reaction, her choice, would determine her fate.
"I..." she started, her voice for once uncertain.
Lyno's eyes widened. She was talking! He had to be encouraging! He shoved the sandwich forward a little more insistently, a hopeful look on his face.
This final gesture broke through her analytical haze. The answer was clear. He was a being of ultimate power, yet here he sat in a filthy alley, eating a simple meal. He wasn't testing her loyalty or insulting her.
He was teaching her.
Humility.
He is showing me that even at the pinnacle of existence, one can still find meaning in the mundane. This sandwich is not food. It is a lesson. A philosophical koan delivered via bread and cheese. He is offering me a chance to abandon my path of death and wealth, and to walk a simpler, more profound road. He is... saving me.
Tears welled in Seraphina's amethyst eyes. In all her life, no one had ever shown her anything but fear or avarice. No one had ever offered her... a way out.
The stiletto clattered to the ground.
CLANG-TINK.
Seraphina Vex, the most feared assassin on the continent, dropped to one knee in the dirt and grime of the alley. She bowed her head, her silver hair spilling over her shoulders like a waterfall of moonlight.
"I was blind," she whispered, her voice choked with an emotion she hadn't felt since childhood. "I came to take your life, and you... you have offered me a new one."
She looked up, her gaze now stripped of its predatory edge, replaced with the blazing, unshakeable devotion of a convert.
"I am Seraphina Vex. But that name is meaningless now. If you will have me, Master Lyno, I will discard it. I will be your shadow. I will be the unseen blade that guards your peace. My life is yours."
Lyno stared down at the beautiful, kneeling assassin, his half-eaten sandwich still held aloft in his trembling hand.
His mind was a perfect, silent void. All thought had ceased.
Suddenly, a voice boomed from the end of the alley.
"MASTER! I have returned with a kettle forged in the heart of the Sky-Fire Mountain and a cup carved from a single Whispering Glacier Crystal!"
Valerius Zathra stood there, laden with ludicrously epic-looking tea supplies. He took in the scene: his Master, standing triumphantly; a legendary assassin, kneeling in supplication at his feet; and a fallen blade lying on the ground.
He beamed with pride.
"Sasuga, Master Lyno!" he declared. "Not only do you pacify violent threats without moving a muscle, but you also gain devout new followers in the process! As expected of the man who makes the universe his audience!"
Lyno's vision started to get a little fuzzy at the edges.
The world tilted slightly.
And with his last conscious thought before fainting dead away, he managed to think one, final, tragic thing:
[But... I didn't even get to finish my sandwich.]