THE THRONE THAT HEAVEN FEARED

CHAPTER 5: THE DEADLY SILENCE

The shadows in the Forbidden Archives felt like they were shrinking, pulled toward the void in my chest. The Seven Stars Assassin stood twenty feet away, his black-bladed dagger glinting in the dim light of his lantern. He was a professional—a butcher who specialized in ending bloodlines.

"Cassian..." Luna whispered, her voice a ghost of a sound. "That’s you. That’s your face on that file."

"Stay down, Luna," I hissed. "And don't breathe."

The Assassin’s head snapped toward our alcove. "I hear you, little bird. And I hear the ghost too."

He moved. He didn't run; he blurred. A streak of charcoal gray cutting through the library's gloom.

"Luna, move!" I shoved her to the left just as the black dagger whistled through the air, burying itself inches deep into the oak bookshelf where her head had been.

"You're fast for a janitor," the Assassin sneered, appearing out of the dark as he retrieved his blade with a flick of his wrist. "But I’ve killed Tier 6 masters who were faster. Are you the one? The Thorne rat that survived the fire?"

"I'm just the guy who cleans up the trash," I said, my voice vibrating with the raw lightning I was struggling to contain. "And tonight, the trash is you."

"Arrogant," the Assassin laughed. He didn't wait for a rebuttal. He launched a flurry of strikes, the blade moving like a serpent's tongue.

I didn't have a sword. I didn't have armor. My eyes darted to a cleaning closet left slightly ajar near the mahogany desk. I lunged, sliding across the floor as a black bolt of energy scorched the air above me. My hand gripped a heavy, wooden mop-handle.

Slap!

I swung the wooden pole, catching the Assassin across the temple. It wasn't a killing blow, but the "face-slapping" force of it sent his mask flying and his head snapping back.

"A mop?" The Assassin spat blood, his eyes turning murderous. "You dare strike a Seven Stars operative with a piece of wood?"

"It’s what you’re worth," I retorted.

"Cassian, look out!" Luna screamed.

The Assassin didn't use his blade this time. He threw a punch, his fist wrapped in a swirling vortex of shadow-matter. I didn't dodge. I couldn't. I held the mop-handle with both hands, channeling a sliver of the "Void" I’d stolen from the Pulse Pillar into the wood.

The wood didn't break. It turned a dull, matte black—a color that seemed to drink the light in the room.

The Assassin's shadow-punch hit the pole. Instead of shattering the wood, the shadow-matter was sucked into the grain.

"What? My Shadow Arts!" the Assassin gasped. "Where did they go?"

"I told you," I gritted out, my muscles bulging as the lightning in my veins surged. "I'm the one who cleans up."

I stepped into his guard. Crack! I drove the end of the mop-handle into his solar plexus. The "Void" infused in the wood bypassed his enchanted leather armor like it wasn't there. He wheezed, the air leaving his lungs in a frantic burst.

"You... you're a monster," he wheezed. "The Alliance... they said the Thorne blood was extinguished. They’ll burn this Academy to find you."

"Then they'll have to find you first," I said.

"Luna, get back!" I yelled as the Assassin pulled a crystalline orb from his belt.

"Die with me!" he roared, preparing to crush the orb—a suicide explosive.

I didn't give him the chance. I dropped the mop-handle and moved with a speed that surprised even me. My hand bypassed his frantic guard, my fingers locking around his throat.

Internal Voice: [CONSUMPTION AUTHORIZED. FEEDING...]

"No... wait—" the Assassin’s eyes bulged.

He didn't just lose his breath. He lost his color. The shadow energy he had spent decades refining was ripped out of his pores and into my palms. It was a silent, brutal feast. His skin shriveled, his eyes turning gray as the "Void" within me demanded its due.

I felt his life force flicker. With a sharp, decisive twist, I snapped his neck.

The body went limp. I let it drop. It hit the floor with a dull thud, a hollow husk of the man who had come to hunt me.

I stood there, panting, the black veins on my arms slowly receding. The silence of the library returned, heavy and suffocating.

"You killed him," Luna said, stepping out from the shadows. She looked at the body, then at me, her silver eyes wide with a mix of terror and awe. "You killed a Seven Stars Assassin with a mop and your bare hands."

"He was going to kill us both, Luna," I said, wiping a trail of blood from my lip. "He knew who I was."

"Is it true? Are you a Thorne?"

I looked at her, the daughter of the High Sovereign—the people who had stayed silent while my family was slaughtered. "Does it matter? To the world, I'm just a janitor who’s about to get in a lot of trouble."

"I won't tell," she said quickly, stepping toward me. "I swear it, Cassian. They... they’re looking for you. My father, the Alliance... everyone. You saved my life."

"Go back to your dorm, Luna. Forget this happened. Forget I exist."

I turned to walk away, but a faint, rhythmic ping stopped me in my tracks.

I looked down at the Assassin’s belt. A small, circular jade pendant was glowing with a sickly green light. It was a communication jade—live and active.

I froze. Luna gasped, her hand going to her throat.

A voice, cold and authoritative, crackled from the stone. It didn't sound like a soldier; it sounded like a commander.

"Report, operative," the voice demanded. "The energy signature in the sector just flatlined. Did you find the Thorne boy? Is the line finally ended?"

The jade pulsed in the darkness, waiting for an answer I couldn't give.

"Answer me!" the voice growled, now laced with suspicion. "Report, or we initiate the purge of the Academy's lower levels. Did you kill him?"

I looked at the jade, then at the dead man at my feet, then at Luna. The silence in the library had never felt so deadly.