The second Asher and Seraphine stepped out of the Hollow Fang, all hell broke loose in the city.
Sirens wailed throughout the Low District, their high screams ricocheting off the closely built buildings. Streetlights flickered, an energy surge pulsing through the air.
"They found us," said Seraphine hoarsely.
Asher barely had time to react before a goddamn wave of enforcers filled the streets — people in black armor, their faces hidden behind featureless masks.
The Guild's Executioners.
"Move!" It was Asher who seized Seraphine's wrist and raced down an alley. A second later, the spot where they had been standing detonated in a shower of blue energy.
The Executioners were not fooling around.
Seraphine cursed, flicking her wrist. A pair of enforcers rounded the corner just as flames ignited at her fingertips.
Asher didn't wait. He lifted his hand, dark energy sparking around his fingertips. He snapped his wrist and the nearest enforcer sailed into the air, as their armor caved in on themselves under an invisible pressure.
Seraphine blasted a firebolt into the second enforcer's chest. The collision threw them crashing into a wooden stall, where they left a mound of flaming debris.
Executioners burst from the rooftops. They moved with silence, precision, their arms still humming with arcane energy.
One shot a dark-blue spear of magic straight at Asher's heart.
Seraphine tackled him sideways, the projectile hitting the wall behind them instead.
"We cannot fight them all," she gasped. "We need an escape route."
Asher scanned the street — and its there. A supply tram rumbled down a nearby rail line toward the Upper District, crates stacked high on it.
"That's our ride," he said.
Seraphine didn't hesitate. "On it."
They turned and sprinted, ducking and weaving as bolts of magic flew past them toward the tram.
Asher leapt over a cart, barely avoiding an Executioner's blade. Seraphine leapt onto a rooftop ledge and used the momentum to propel herself forward.
The tram was speeding up. They had seconds to make it.
Asher was the first to jump, grabbing hold of a metal railing. His muscles burned as he pulled himself up — just as Seraphine dropped beside him with a roll.
They had made it—
Not until an Executioner touched down on the tram behind them.
The masked figure was fast. Too fast.
Their twin daggers danced before him as they carved through the air. Asher barely parried the first blow with his forearm, but the second his cloak and came off dangerously close.
Seraphine unleashed a torrent of flames at the enforcer, who sidestepped easily, gliding like a shadow through the fire.
Asher switched tactics. He raised his hand—
And the Executioner paused in his stroke.
A shiver ran through their body as they were caught by an invisible chain. Their daggers poised in the air, caught an inch from Asher's throat.
He clenched his fist. The Executioner's body imploded, bones cracking under the pressure —
But before Asher could complete it, a second enforcer leapt on him from behind.
The force of the impact rolled them both off the tram.
But there was no time to react; Seraphine screamed his name.
The world smudged as Asher crashed down and his body slid across the gravel. His head ached, his vision going black—
Then he sensed the firm prod of a blade at his throat.
Face-to-Face with the Enemy
Asher looked up, out of breath.
An Architect loomed above him.
Not just another enforcer. Not a simple soldier.
This was someone much more dangerous.
The Architect's features were obscured by a silver mask, their robes billowing impossibly, as if caught in an invisible current. Even just their presence made Asher's skin crawl.
"You've interfered for far too long," the Architect said, his voice even. "It's time for the cycle to stop."
They lifted a hand of pure energy, ready to wipe Asher from existence.
A lancing pain shot through Asher's body, but the brunt of it he forced himself to ignore. He dug deep into his magic — deeper than ever before.
Dark energy flared around him, crackling with untapped power.
The Architect's finger descended.
Asher disappeared at the last minute.
The Architect's attack hit air, obliterating the ground where he'd been lying.
Asher popped back up behind them, magic flaring. The shadow bucked and twisted, a lance forming in his hand.
He drove it forward.
The Architect ducked — but not in time. The lance scraped their side, ripping their robe and drawing thin line of black blood.
They swayed, their masked face snapping toward him.
Asher had witnessed a moment he never anticipated.
Surprise.
"You…" the Architect said in a whisper. "You are evolving more rapidly than we anticipated."
Asher didn't allow them to recover. He made a fist and released shockwaves of force outward.
The Architect was propelled backwards, crashing into a mound of debris.
But before Asher could apply the pressure —
The Architect vanished.
It was gone, silence remained in its place.
Asher bobbed, his energy nearly exhausted. He spun as Seraphine barreled toward him, her face alight with concern.
"You idiot," she snapped. "I thought you were dead!"
Asher gave a weak smirk. "Not yet."
She threw her head back and exhaled hard. "That was an Architect, wasn't it?"
Asher nodded. "Yeah. And they didn't think I would fight back."
Seraphine folded her arms. "So what now?"
Asher turned his gaze out toward the city in the distance, his features hardening.
"They made their move," he said. "Now it's our turn."
The war against the Architects had begun in earnest.