The coordinates led them deep into a forgotten industrial district of Lust Ring an area so quiet and untouched that even graffiti had faded away. No demons loitered. No gangs patrolled. No traces of recent life.
Just stillness.
The type that didn't feel abandoned
but prepared.
Malerion walked ahead, Verosika beside him though she pretended she was "just curious." Behind them moved the inner circle: Dreg, Quill, Rafe, Liz, and the twins silent and alert.
Around them 30 people from the inner circle of soldiers
Nothing moved.
No watchers.
No traps.
No obvious threat.
Which only made it worse.
"This feels wrong," Skit muttered.
"Feels staged," Bit corrected.
"Feels like a performance," Rafe added.
Verosika snorted quietly.
"Great. So we came to watch a show?" She paused. "Or be one."
Liz looked at her a rare flicker of agreement.
"They wanted us here. Nothing about this is accidental."
Malerion didn't slow.
He walked straight to the center of the coordinates:
an old plaza with a rusting fountain and a shattered statue of some long forgotten demon.
There, carved into cracked stone, was the crescent symbol.
Fresh.
Clean.
Precise.
Dreg crouched beside it, inspecting.
"No trap glyphs. No explosive wards."
"Because they want us relaxed," Rafe murmured.
"Or confident," Doona added quietly.
Quill ran a small scanner across the marking. The device flickered, then glitched.
Static.
Then the symbol on the ground began to glow softly, faintly, almost playful.
A voice emerged.
Not spoken aloud or telepathy.
Something in between like memory wearing someone else's tone.
> "You're early."
Every member of the circle froze.
Verosika stiffened beside Malerion, tail curling defensively.
Dreg rose, hands flexing into fists.
Skit whispered, "No force signature. None."
Bit answered, "No source either."
Malerion stayed perfectly still.
"…Who are you?"
Silence at first.
Then laughter faint, amused, echoing as if from everywhere and nowhere.
> "Does the serpent ask every shadow for a name?"
Verosika hissed under her breath.
"Oh I already hate him."
Quill tapped his ear, then shook his head.
"No audio origin. Projection point. It's bouncing between environmental resonance."
Rafe smiled thinly.
"Meaning: he's talking without being present."
"Or he's here," Liz murmured, eyes narrowing, "and we can't see him."
The voice continued smooth, calm, not mocking, but intrigued:
> "You hid well. Most power leaves footprints, but yours… tries to erase itself."
Malerion answered evenly:
"You're testing me."
> "Of course. Power without observation is wasted."
Verosika stepped forward, chin raised.
"And what do you want? Territory? Tribute? Fear?"
A soft hum thoughtful.
> "No. Those belong to lesser predators."
Dreg growled.
"And you think you're above us?"
> "No."
A pause.
> "I think you're interesting."
The air shifted just slightly as if someone walked past them despite nothing being there.
Skit grabbed Bit's sleeve.
Bit whispered, "Left no right no what the hell"
Even Malerion felt it.
Not power.
Attention.
A mind tracing every move they made.
Rafe spoke quietly to Malerion without looking at him:
"He's profiling us."
"Already did," Liz corrected softly. "This is confirmation."
The voice returned:
> "Ouroboros is growing faster than expected. Clean structure. Tight loyalty. Unusual discipline for Lust Ring infrastructure."
Dreg spat.
"You've been watching us."
> "Everything worth studying gets watched."
Malerion finally spoke again calmly, deliberately:
"You sent me a message. I came. Now answer something."
A pause not shocked, not offended.
Curious.
> "…Ask."
"Why me?"
A faint laugh.
> "Because Hell hasn't seen something like you in a very, very long time."
The voice lowered almost reverent.
> "Power made… not inherited. Stolen. Granted. Created."
Verosika's gaze flicked to Malerion.
The Watcher wasn't warning them.
He was dissecting them.
> "Your rise disrupted the natural hierarchy. The old powers are still pretending not to notice. But they will."
Silence.
Then:
> "So I want to see whether the serpent will become a god"
The symbol flared emerald.
> "or another corpse under someone else's boot."
Sound cut off.
Glow died.
And the plaza fell silent as if nothing had ever spoken.
Quill's scanner finally stabilized.
No trace.
Signature.
Nothing.
Verosika exhaled slowly.
"…Okay. New rule." She pointed at Malerion. "Next time someone leaves a creepy message, we throw it away and pretend we never saw it."
Rafe chuckled.
"Denial isn't a strategy."
"It's survival," she snapped.
Dreg cracked his knuckles, frustrated.
"So what now? Hunt him?"
Malerion stared at the symbol.
Not angry ,afraid but Resolved.
"No."
Everyone looked at him.
"We don't hunt him."
He turned away from the mark cloak shifting in the still air.
"He wants to watch."
His eyes hardened.
"Then we make sure what he sees is something worth fearing."
No one argued.
Because every person there felt it:
That was not a warning, threat.
Not even a challenge.
It was the beginning of someone else's interest.
A dangerous one.
Patient one.
Hunter who didn't strike first
only waited.
Somewhere far away in Envy Ring, unseen eyes smiled.
And whispered:
> "Good. Move."