2025-09-19 20:21:44The dagger cut through the air with a whisper, gleaming under the blue flames. Gasps tore from the Council as death flew toward Ethan’s chest. But Ethan did not flinch.
His hand shot out like lightning, fingers snapping shut around the blade just inches from his heart. The sound of metal grinding against flesh echoed through the silent hall. The Council froze.
Ethan’s palm bled, crimson dripping down his wrist, but his grip did not loosen. He raised the dagger slowly, his dark eyes locking onto the hooded figure in the corner. “You’ll have to try harder,” Ethan said coldly.
The room erupted. “What, impossible!” one cousin cried.
“He caught it? With his bare hand?” another whispered in horror.
“Did you see his speed?” Aunt Sylvia’s eyes widened, fury mingling with disbelief.
The hooded assassin tilted his head, his voice low and amused. “So the rumors were true. You’ve been trained.”
Ethan’s jaw tightened. No one was supposed to know. Richard sneered, though his eyes betrayed unease. “Trained? What nonsense is this?”
The Patriarch’s cane struck the floor. Crack. “Enough.” His voice rolled like thunder. His sharp gaze fixed on Ethan. “So… you did not waste your years among the commoners after all.”
Ethan’s silence was answer enough. The assassin chuckled. “Interesting. Very interesting. But strength alone will not save you.”
He stepped forward, shadows clinging to his frame like smoke. “The world outside this estate does not play by rules, boy. If you inherit, every hand will be raised against you. Every ally will turn snake. Every lover will be a blade to your throat.”
Vanessa’s face flashed in Ethan’s mind. The laughter. The humiliation. The sting of betrayal. His hand tightened on the dagger. “And what are you?” Ethan demanded.
The hooded man bowed mockingly. “A messenger. A test. But if you want answers…” His voice lowered to a hiss. “…come find me.”
And then, before the guards could move, he vanished. One moment there, the next, only smoke curling in the cold air. The Council erupted in chaos.
“This is outrageous!” Richard barked.
“He breached the estate!” a cousin shouted.
“Who sent him?” Sylvia demanded, her eyes darting nervously.
The Patriarch raised his hand, silencing them all. His gaze never left Ethan, who still stood bleeding, dagger in hand, breathing hard but steady.
“You caught it,” the old man murmured. “Just like your father once did.”
Ethan’s head snapped up. “My father?”
The Patriarch leaned heavily on his cane, his eyes unreadable. “Enough for tonight. The trial is done. The heir has proven himself.”
The Council erupted in protests, but the Patriarch’s voice cut them down. “Tomorrow, the world will know Ethan Cole. Pray you are wise enough to stand with him instead of against him.”
The torches dimmed, casting the hall in deep shadows. The Council retreated, muttering, eyes filled with calculation and fear.
Ethan remained where he was, his wounded hand throbbing, the dagger still clenched tight. His mind burned with questions, about the assassin, about his father, about the storm that was clearly coming.
As the hall emptied, the Patriarch stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Remember this night, Ethan. You think Vanessa’s betrayal was the wound that shaped you? No. This” he gestured to the bloody dagger “is only the first cut.”
Ethan’s eyes hardened, the weight of the seal heavy in his pocket. He was no longer the humiliated boy on his knees. He was something far more dangerous
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Chapter 17 – Fallout of the Broken Rule
The silence after the emissary vanished was deafening. No hum of air conditioning. No city traffic bleeding through the glass. Just the shallow, ragged breaths of Ethan and the man sprawled on the carpet.The survivor’s eyes rolled wildly in their sockets, darting from the door to the shattered curtains to Ethan himself.He was pale, sweat pouring down his forehead, blood soaking the sleeve where the dagger’s phantom cut had opened flesh. Ethan crouched beside him, the coins burning still in his grip.“Hey,” Ethan said, forcing his voice low, steady. “You’re alive. You’re safe.”The man recoiled as if struck, scrambling backward on his elbows until his shoulders slammed into the wall. “Safe? SAFE?!” He jabbed a trembling finger at Ethan. “That thing dragged me into this room, out of nothing! You called it!”“I didn’t call it,” Ethan said sharply. “It came for me. You were part of its game.”“Game?” the man spat, hysteria bubbling under his words. “You think that was a game?!”Ethan’s
Chapter 16 – The Emissary’s Test
The knock had stopped. Ethan’s fingers tightened around the coins in his pocket as the door eased open on its own, swinging wider without a sound. A figure stepped across the threshold.At first glance it looked like a man, tall and thin, dressed in a suit so black it seemed woven from shadow. But its face, no, not a face at all.Smooth, featureless skin stretched where eyes, mouth, and nose should have been, as though someone had erased them. Only the faintest suggestion of cheekbones shifted when it turned its head toward him.The air grew heavy. Every shadow in the suite stretched toward the figure, bending unnaturally, dragging across the floor like oil.Ethan forced himself to stand his ground. “Who are you?”The figure’s head tilted, the blank surface glistening faintly. When it spoke, its voice didn’t come from any mouth but from the walls themselves, vibrating in the bones of the room.“A herald. A witness. An emissary of the Ledger.”The coins in Ethan’s palm burned hot. His
Chapter 15 – The Weight of Two Coins
Ethan hadn’t realized he’d fallen asleep until he jolted awake, the bedside lamp still burning and both coins lying side by side on the nightstand.They pulsed faintly in the dim light, not together, not apart, but in a maddening rhythm, ba-dup, ba-dup, ba-dup, out of sync like two dueling heartbeats.His temples throbbed in time with them. He sat up, dragging a hand through his hair, eyes fixed on the dark metal discs. “Crown or dagger,” he muttered, remembering the woman’s words.As if in answer, the dagger side of the second coin glimmered faintly, a ripple of cold spreading across the air. The suite felt suffocating, though nothing had changed.The curtains still hung heavy against the city lights, the air conditioning still hummed, the carpets still smelled faintly of new fabric. Yet now every detail seemed staged, brittle, unreal.He pushed to his feet, pacing, his gaze darting back to the coins as if they might move on their own. This is ridiculous, he told himself. They were j
Chapter 14– Into the Black Ledger
The suite was too quiet. Ethan sat at the edge of his bed, staring at the black coin where it lay on the nightstand.Even when untouched, it seemed to hum faintly, like the low vibration of a distant engine or the pulse of some subterranean current.He rubbed his palms over his face, dragging away the fatigue, then leaned closer. “What are you?” he whispered, as though speaking too loudly might wake something best left asleep.The shadows in the corners didn’t answer. But the coin glimmered, catching the first light of dawn. He didn’t leave the suite for hours.Room service trays collected dust by the door. His laptop sat open across the desk, tabs upon tabs of searches sprawled across the screen: obscure folklore forums, digitized occult manuscripts, archived conspiracy blogs that hadn’t been updated in a decade.He should have felt foolish. He didn’t. Because the deeper he went, the more he recognized patterns he’d already begun to sense.Stories about a Game hidden beneath the skin
Chapter Thirteen – Cracks in the Glass
The city hadn’t slept, but Vanessa hadn’t either. She stood before the wall of windows in Damian’s penthouse, the night stretching endless beyond the glass.The skyline glittered with wealth, with order, with control, everything she had always believed was hers to command.Yet tonight the lights looked mocking, every reflection distorted, every shadow on the streets below whispering things she couldn’t hear but somehow understood.Behind her, Damian sat at his desk, his tie still undone from the night before, his hair disheveled, his face pale. He hadn’t touched his drink in hours.His phone sat silent, dark, as though the device itself feared to be turned on. “You haven’t said a word in two hours,” Vanessa snapped, voice sharp enough to cut glass.Damian didn’t look up. “Words are dangerous now.”“Don’t start that again.” Vanessa spun, her robe swirling around her legs. “You’re letting fear choke you. That… that thing last night? It was theater. A warning, maybe. But that doesn’t mea
Chapter 12 – Whispers of the Ledger
The night had grown thick with celebration. Music spilled from the penthouse lounge of the Langley Hotel, where Vanessa reclined against velvet cushions, her crystal glass of champagne catching the glow of the chandeliers. Damian lounged beside her, tie loose, jacket discarded, his grin sharp as a wolf’s.Screens lined one wall, each displaying feeds from social media. Ethan’s humiliation replayed endlessly, him on his knees, the rejection, the laughter, the way Vanessa had turned her back on him without a second thought. The headlines were vicious.Vanessa twirled her glass. “Look at him. Hours ago, the world saw him for what he is, small, pathetic, beneath us.”Damian laughed. “And tomorrow, no one will remember his name.”Vanessa leaned closer, her perfume heavy with roses and venom. “That’s what I like about you, Damian. You understand that power isn’t about money or legacy. It’s about perception. Strip a man of dignity in front of the world, and he’ll never recover.”Damian raise
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