2025-12-10 22:46:14Frank pressed his back to the steel wall, chest rising and falling like he’d sprinted a mile. The shaft was darker than night, lit only by a flickering emergency strip that cast a dull red glow.
The speaker crackled again. “Don’t be afraid.”
Frank swallowed hard. “Who are you?”
A low chuckle answered. “Someone who knows what you are. Someone who’s been waiting a very… very long time.”
Frank wiped rainwater from his face. “That doesn’t help.”
“It wasn’t meant to.”
Frank’s pulse spiked. “If you’re with Darrius, I’m not listening.”
“I’m not with Darrius,” the voice said smoothly. “I’m older than Darrius. Older than this war.”
Frank stepped forward slowly, keeping one hand on the wall for balance. “Then what do you want from me?”
“You, Frank Tarrow,” the voice whispered. “Only you.”
Frank’s stomach twisted. “Morgan warned me about people like you. Manipulators. Shadow prophets. Whatever you are.”
“Morgan taught you well,” the voice murmured. “But he didn’t tell you everything.”
Frank clenched his jaw. “He told me enough.”
“No,” the voice said softly, “he didn’t.”
Frank froze. Because the way the voice said it, it wasn’t taunting. It sounded like sorrow. Frank took a shaky breath. “Where are you?”
A small maintenance light flickered on further down the shaft. A square outline of a door shimmered at the far end, metal and old wiring framing it like a forgotten portal. The voice said, “Come to the door.”
“No.”
“Frank”
“No,” Frank snapped. “I don’t follow strangers into dark tunnels.”
“You stepped into a dark tunnel by choice.”
“That was different!”
“How?”
“Because Morgan was with me!”
Silence hummed through the old speakers. Then the voice said, quietly: “Oh, Frank… Morgan didn’t follow you down here.”
Frank’s throat tightened. “You’re lying.”
“Am I?”
Frank shook his head violently. “He said he’d be right behind me. He, he told me to run. He told me he’d hold them off. He”
“he made a choice,” the voice finished. “One he’s made before.”
Frank stepped back. “No. No, Morgan wouldn’t abandon me.”
“He didn’t abandon you. He protected you. At any cost.”
Frank closed his eyes, repeating Morgan’s last words: I’ll hold them off. Find the next hatch. Don’t stop. He whispered, “He’s not coming down here… is he?”
“No,” the voice said gently. “He isn’t.”
Frank’s knees weakened. “He said he would be behind me.”
“Adults lie to protect children.”
“I’m not a child!”
“You are fourteen.”
Frank slammed his fist against the wall. Sparks flickered from the contact, Shadowfire reacting to his emotions. The voice hummed. “Even untrained, your power flares beautifully.”
Frank backed away. “Stop analyzing me.”
“I can’t. Your presence is… remarkable.”
“Shut up.”
“I’ve waited fourteen years to speak to you. You can give me a moment of honesty.”
Frank glared upward. “I don’t owe you anything.”
“Oh, but you do. You owe me your life.”
Frank’s heart dropped. “…What?”
“That tunnel you stand in? I built it.”
Frank blinked hard. “What are you talking about?”
“It was constructed during the Shadowfall Riots. The very night you were born.”
Frank’s voice trembled. “So what? You built a tunnel.”
“I built a tunnel,” the voice repeated, “beneath the exact building where you were hidden as a newborn. A tunnel designed for only one purpose.”
Frank couldn’t breathe. “Which was…?”
“To smuggle you out. To save you from Darrius.”
Frank staggered back. “No. No, that’s impossible.”
“Is it?”
“If this tunnel exists because of me,” Frank whispered, “then who are you?”
The speaker crackled, not with static, but with something like a long, heavy sigh. “Before I answer that, Frank… go to the door.”
Frank hesitated. “Give me a reason.”
“To survive.”
Frank stared at the far door. The red light above it pulsed like a heartbeat. He didn’t trust the voice. He barely trusted himself.
But staying here meant waiting for soldiers or Shadowbreeds, to find him. Frank clenched his fists. “Fine. I’ll go.”
“That’s my boy,” the voice whispered. Frank froze. “Don’t call me that.”
Another pause. Then, softly: “…It wasn’t meant to hurt.”
Frank gritted his teeth and moved toward the door, each step echoing along the metal floor. The air grew colder, heavier, humming with a strange energy.
When he reached the door, he noticed something he hadn’t seen from afar: A symbol carved into the surface.
A swirling flame made of two colors, blue and black. Frank whispered, “Shadowfire…”
“Yes,” the voice said. “Your birthright.”
Frank touched the symbol. The door slid open with a hiss of air. Inside was a chamber lit with faint blue runes, casting eerie shadows across the walls.
Old machinery hummed quietly, as if waking from a long sleep. A terminal flickered to life in the corner. Frank stepped inside cautiously. “What is this place?”
“A safe room,” the voice said. “Built for you. Prepared for you. Hidden from Darrius for fourteen years.”
Frank’s hand trembled. “Why would someone build a room for me before I was even born?”
The voice didn’t answer immediately. When it did, the truth came softly, like something fragile: “Because I knew you were coming.”
Frank froze. “Knew… how?”
“Because, Frank…”
The voice softened. “…I am the one who wrote the prophecy.”
Frank’s eyes widened. “That’s impossible.”
“Nothing about your existence is impossible.”
Frank leaned against the metal wall, breath shaking. “If you wrote the prophecy… then who are you really?”
The lights in the chamber pulsed. And the voice whispered: “I am the only Shadowborn older than you. The only one Darrius feared before he feared you. And the only one who survived his purge.”
Frank’s blood ran cold. The speaker hissed with one final line: “I am your father.”
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CHAPTER 9 — “WHISPERS IN THE DARKROOT”
Frank didn’t sleep. Not even when the forest finally quieted, not even when Morgan ordered a short rest.His body was exhausted, but the inside of his mind felt crowded, like someone else was pacing inside his skull.By dawn, his nerves were frayed raw. Morgan kicked dirt over their small fire. “Pack up. We’re moving.”Frank rubbed his eyes. “Already?”“Darrius won’t wait.”Frank laced his boots slowly. “Morgan… what if I’m the danger now? Not the solution.”Morgan paused. “What did you hear this time?”Frank looked away. “Not words. Just… breathing. Like something asleep is waking up. Inside me.”Morgan slung his pack over his shoulder. “Then we keep moving. The Darkroot is ahead.”Frank froze mid-step. “The what?”“The forest we avoided yesterday,” Morgan said. “We go through it now.”Frank blinked. “You want to take me into a forest literally called the Darkroot?”Morgan didn’t answer directly. “It’s the only place Darrius’s scouts fear entering.”“That doesn’t comfort me!”“It sho
CHAPTER 8 — “THE SPEAR OF ASHENFIRE”
The armored warrior crashed into the clearing like a meteor, scorching a black crater beneath its boots. Heat washed over Frank, forcing him backward until his spine hit a tree.Morgan didn’t move. He stood like a wall between Frank and the monster. The warrior’s helm tilted. “You cannot protect the boy.”Morgan raised his sword. “Try me.”Frank whispered, “Morgan… that thing is huge.”“Size isn’t everything,” Morgan murmured.“His spear is on fire.”“I noticed.”The warrior slammed its spear into the ground, sending a blast of flames across the clearing. Morgan shoved Frank behind a fallen log. “Stay down!”Frank ducked as flames roared over his head, searing bark and earth. The heat made his lungs burn. “Morgan!” Frank shouted, “You can’t fight fire with a sword!”“Watch me,” Morgan said, and charged.The warrior swung its spear. Morgan dodged under it, sparks flying as the spear sliced through trees like paper. Morgan countered with a slash at the creature’s leg, but his blade boun
CHAPTER 7 — “THE MARK OF THE SILENCED”
Frank was already awake when Morgan shook his shoulder. Dawn hadn’t even cracked yet, the forest still looked bruised with lingering night.Fog coiled low, sliding between the trees like something with intention. “Up,” Morgan whispered. “Quietly.”Frank pushed himself upright. “Another patrol?”“Worse,” Morgan murmured. “Listen.”Frank held his breath. At first he heard nothing. Then, not footsteps, but absence. The forest wasn’t silent. It was being silenced.Frank shivered. “That’s… not normal.”“No,” Morgan said. “And it means Darrius sent a Silencer.”Frank’s stomach dropped. “A what?”Morgan shouldered his pack. “Move. I’ll explain once we’re not in its hunting zone.”They started down a narrow deer trail, branches drooping overhead like warning hands. Frank caught up to Morgan, whispering frantically: “What’s a Silencer?”“Assassins made from people who died screaming,” Morgan said. “Darrius binds their last breath inside them. They hunt sound. They erase whatever they catch.”F
CHAPTER 6 — THE GIRL ON THE ROOFTOP
Frank shoved the rusted hatch upward, blinking against the sudden blast of cold night air. The city stretched out before him, a maze of high-rises, neon billboards, and streets glowing with the blue pulse of barrier lights.He climbed out onto the rooftop of an abandoned building. Wind whipped at his hair. Sirens wailed somewhere far below. But what froze Frank wasn’t the noise, It was the figure already waiting for him. A girl.Maybe sixteen. Maybe seventeen. Hard to tell. She crouched on the edge of the rooftop like a shadow given shape, dark jacket fluttering in the wind, hair braided tight along one side.She didn’t turn around when Frank climbed out. Frank whispered, “Um… hi?”No answer. He stepped closer carefully. “Are you Mirra?”The girl didn’t move. Frank frowned. “The, uh… voice in the speakers? My maybe-father? He said”She cut him off with a single word: “Don’t.”Frank blinked. “Don’t what?”“Don’t come any closer.”Her voice was steady, cold, almost eerily calm. Frank fr
CHAPTER 5 — THE HUNT IN THE TUNNELS
Frank hit the platform hard, palms scraping the metal as the Shadowfire ripples ebbed around him. His chest tightened with a sharp, unfamiliar pressure, not pain, not quite, more like a second heartbeat awakening beneath the first.“Get up,” the voice urged through the speaker. “They’re closing in.”Frank tried to push himself upright, but his muscles spasmed. “Hold on, I’m still”“No time.”The voice sharpened. “Frank, stand. Now.”Frank forced himself up, gasping, sweat sliding down his neck. “Why didn’t you tell me it would feel like that?” he demanded.“Because you wouldn’t have stepped onto the platform.”Frank groaned. “Honesty would’ve been nice.”“You’ll appreciate it later.”Frank clenched his jaw. “I’ll complain later.”He staggered toward the chamber door, the one he’d entered through, but the voice snapped: “Not that way.”Frank froze. “Why not?”“It’s already too late. They’re there.”As if on cue, a long, guttural snarl echoed from the tunnel. Frank stiffened. “How many?
CHAPTER 4 — THE FATHER IN THE STATIC
Frank staggered back from the speaker, heart pounding so loudly he could hear the blood in his ears. “No,” he whispered. “You’re lying.”The voice didn’t hesitate. “I wish I were.”Frank shook his head violently. “My father died before I was born.”“That is the story Morgan chose to give you.”“It’s the truth!”“No,” the voice murmured. “It’s the safest version of the truth.”Frank slammed his fist against the console. “Stop talking in riddles!”Static crackled through the speakers like heavy breathing.Then: “Frank… Darrius hunted your bloodline long before you were born. Telling the world your father died was the only way to keep you hidden.”“That doesn’t mean you are him,” Frank shot back.“I know. So let me prove it.”Frank paused, tension coiling in him like a drawn bow. “…And how are you going to do that?”“Say your full name.”Frank’s throat tightened. “You already know my name.”“Say it anyway.”Frank swallowed. “Frank Tarrow.”“Your real name, Frank.”Frank’s fingertips went
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