Elric jolted upright from sleep, drenched in sweat, breath ragged.
But he didn't scream from pain. Nor fear.
He screamed from something deeper—raw, primal.
Like a door slamming open in his soul.
His heart pounded like a war drum. The world around him blurred, pulsed, and then—
Settled.
Silence.
But not emptiness.
They were there.
Six shadows, kneeling in a crescent, their heads bowed, but their presence vibrant—aware.
Elric stumbled out of bed, hand trembling as he summoned his system interface.
The panel opened with a flicker, but something was... different. Brighter. Sharper.
And then—it bloomed.
> Trait Evolution Detected.
Original Trait: [Shadow Coordination – A Grade]
Condition Met: Repeated high-level synchronization with Shadow-Class Constructs.
External Influence: Shadow Blade Variant Integration (Lucien Arkanveil Origin)
—
Trait Mutation in Progress…
Processing Intent…
Bond Identified.
New Trait Formed:
> [Shadow Commander Bond – SS Grade]
Elric's breath caught.
> Trait Description:
You are no longer a controller. You are the dusk to which shadows bow.
Your thoughts do not command—their will obeys your instincts. No delay. No resistance. Pure unity.
At this stage, Shadow Constructs become semi-sentient extensions of you. Your bond cannot be severed.
Your fear becomes theirs. Your wrath, their blade.
Your death… is their apocalypse.
> Trait Abilities Unlocked:
— Command Pulse (Instant Tactical Reposition)
— Eclipsing Echo (Summon all Shadows within your reach to mimic a single attack)
— Silent Oath (Bind loyalty permanently to target shadow units)
Elric stumbled back, pulse quickening.
He didn't need to speak.
One thought—one flicker of instinct—and the six shadows rose. Perfectly in sync with his breath. No spoken word. No visible signal.
He blinked left. Two vanished. He stepped forward. One moved to cover his back. His hand trembled—and three converged, blades raised, watching the door.
Elric didn't cry.
But the pressure building in his chest burst in a whisper:
"…This is what he meant."
---
Lucien stood in the Arkanveil courtyard, eyes turned toward the fading stars.
He felt it.
The bond. The ripple.
The Dusk had awakened.
He didn't smile. Not yet.
Instead, he turned as Elric approached, wearing his uniform with a quiet intensity—no armor, but there was no need. His very posture radiated control.
"Your system changed," Lucien said, not asking.
Elric nodded. "It did."
He extended his hand, and a shadow emerged—not summoned, but flowing from beneath his skin like breath.
"They move with me now. Not after me."
Lucien's red eyes gleamed. "Show me."
---
They sparred in silence.
No words.
Just blade, shadow, thought.
Lucien pushed him. Hard. Every step a trap, every strike a feint. But Elric didn't stumble. He danced through it all. Not alone—never alone.
His shadows flowed like extensions of muscle, reading Lucien's tactics with terrifying clarity. Elric didn't need to direct them anymore.
They knew.
Lucien's sword clashed with three shadows at once, his foot catching a fourth that struck from below. The fifth blurred in behind him—only for Lucien to vanish and reappear beside Elric.
"You're slow," Lucien muttered, blade grazing Elric's shoulder.
"I'm syncing," Elric growled.
He shut his eyes.
And the battlefield changed.
—
Command Pulse—activated.
Lucien's panel blinked a warning. For the first time in their training, he had to dodge.
The six shadows didn't attack separately. They struck as one. Not with randomness. Not with noise. But like the fingers of a single fist.
One motion. One will.
And Elric's eyes opened—not glowing, not flaming.
Just certain.
Lucien deflected the strikes. Barely.
He stepped back, panting. "Good."
Elric dropped to one knee. "I… can feel them. All the time. Like pieces of myself I never knew were missing."
Lucien approached, offering a hand.
"You're not their master," he said. "You're their center."
Elric took the hand.
And stood—as Commander of the Dusk.
---
That night, the Arkanveil estate gathered again. The fires in the great hall burned lower, but not with exhaustion—with clarity.
Lucien raised his glass, looking at Elric across the table.
"Tonight," he said, "our house gains more than strength. It gains silence."
The others looked on, confused, until the six shadows stepped into the hall—uniformed, disciplined, not as tools.
But as soldiers.
Behind them, Elric stood. Not as a servant.
But as something more.
Lucien smiled.
"The battlefield just got darker."
And this time—Elric smiled back.