The orphanage slept in uneasy silence. Children huddled together in their beds, clutching thin blankets as if they could shield themselves from the chill in the air. But it wasn’t the cold that disturbed their sleep. It was something heavier, something unseen. The atmosphere had shifted. Whispers passed from bunk to bunk, though none dared speak too loudly.They had all felt it. The night Brann disappeared. The strange way Lira walked now, no longer with her head bowed but with her chin raised and her eyes glowing faintly in the dark. The way Kael moved through the halls, his presence heavier than any adult’s.Fear had taken root in the orphanage. Fear—and curiosity.Kael sat on the edge of his bed, the Devil’s Dagger resting across his knees. The blade pulsed softly, feeding on his ambition. Beside him, Lira sharpened her focus by balancing the dagger’s twin—her training blade—on her fingertips. She hadn’t faltered once.The boy, the silent witness, knelt in the corner, eyes darting

Night had fallen again, cloaking the city in silence. The streets were narrow veins of darkness, lamps flickering weakly as though even the fire feared to burn too brightly.Inside the orphanage’s abandoned hall, Kael stood at the center. His presence filled the space like a storm, silent but suffocating. Before him knelt his three subordinates—Lira, the Blade; the thief, his Shadow; and the boy, his Witness. Each bent their heads low, waiting.The Devil’s Dagger pulsed faintly at Kael’s hip, red light spilling across the cracked floorboards. The System stirred, its voice coiling around Kael’s mind.[Stage Two Initiated.][Directive: Test loyalty. Assign first mission.][Failure Penalty: Subordinate death.][Reward: +50 Court Influence, +15 Stat Growth for Subordinates.]Kael’s lips curved into a faint smile. The time for words had passed. Now came proof.“You three have sworn yourselves to me,” Kael said, his voice low but carrying the weight of command. “But oaths mean nothing witho

The city had not recovered from Garrick’s death.Only days ago, his bloated corpse was dragged through the streets, leaving behind whispers that refused to die. The guards tried to smother the rumors with steel and patrols, but fear had already seeped into the people’s bones.Kael knew whispers alone were fragile. They rose and faded like smoke. If he wanted fear to last, if he wanted his court’s shadow to linger over the city forever, it needed form. A face. A mark.Tonight, that mark would be born.The orphanage’s ruined hall was silent except for the steady pulse of the Devil’s Dagger. The blade rested in Kael’s grip, glowing faintly crimson, its hum vibrating through the cracked floorboards. The three kneeling before him watched with heads bowed.Lira, the Blade, burned with eagerness. Her crimson eyes glowed faintly in the torchlight, lips curled into the faintest smile as if she could already taste the fear to come.The thief; his Shadow sat stiffly, sweat gathering at his brow.

The city had changed overnight.The barracks massacre spread like wildfire through every alley, every tavern, every market stall. Soldiers had been slain where they were strongest. Their own walls bore the Devil’s Mark, glowing faintly even after the guards tried to scrub it clean.“No one is safe,” people whispered.“They walked into the barracks and left alive.”“Even the guards tremble now.”Mothers refused to send children into the streets. Merchants sold only in hushed voices, always with one eye on the shadows. Drunks muttered prayers before passing through alleys, clutching talismans like lifelines.Fear was no longer smoke. Fear had teeth.And Kael knew it was time to take more than blood. It was time to take loyalty.---In the orphanage hall, the Devil’s court gathered once more. The Devil’s Dagger pulsed faintly on the table before Kael, casting crimson light across their faces.Lira, crimson-eyed and blood-hungry, leaned forward eagerly. “The guards are broken. They stumbl

The city whispered of rebellion.Kael’s followers, nine now bound by blood, spread into the streets like shadows. They whispered in taverns. They whispered in markets. They whispered in alleys where guards rarely went. The Devil’s Mark was no longer just fear. It was a promise.And promises had weight.But while the people whispered of Kael, others whispered of something else. Something older. Something that moved in the silence above even the Devil’s name.The Watchers had stirred.---That night, the moon hung pale and thin, a silver blade in the sky.Kael stood on the rooftop of the warehouse, cloak heavy, crimson eyes sweeping the city. The glow of torches lit the barracks in the distance. Patrols had doubled since the massacre, soldiers pacing like caged beasts. And yet, despite their numbers, Kael could see the fear in the way they walked.Behind him, Lira climbed onto the roof, crimson eyes gleaming. “The nine have begun their work. They paint your mark on walls, they whisper y