Deeper within the black market, the lamplight wavered.

  The air felt tight—compressed, heavy with unspoken intent. Sounds dulled, as if the space itself were holding its breath.

  Lucas adjusted the energy detector in his hand. Inside the glass sphere, the glow pulsed erratically—contracting, then swelling again, like a heart struggling to find a rhythm.

  “That’s not right,” he muttered. “The energy’s unstable. It’s close to collapse.”

  At the same time, Erika’s jade pendant trembled violently. A sharp sting shot across her palm, forcing her to pull her hand back. She clenched her fingers, steadying her breath.

  She didn’t need instruments to know.

  This was the trail they’d been following.

  The vendor smiled.

  It was a thin, unpleasant expression. He ran his fingers slowly across the stone slab, his eyes moving between the three of them with the lazy patience of a snake deciding where to strike.

  “If you want it,” he rasped, “you pay the price.”

  The words hadn’t fully settled when the air snapped tight.

  Erika felt it in her chest—a sudden, unnatural chill.

  The shadows behind the stall convulsed.

  They tore open like wounds in the dark, and figures surged out—several of them—wrapped head to toe in black robes. Their hoods hung low, faces swallowed by darkness.

  But the symbols on their chests were unmistakable.

  A black crescent moon, curved as if devouring the light around it.

  “The Nightfall Society,” Amina hissed, her hand snapping to the pouch at her waist.

  Chaos exploded.

  Vendors scattered instantly, overturning stalls in their panic. Pottery shattered. Metal rang against stone. Screams cut through the air as torches were knocked loose, fire leaping wildly and throwing monstrous shadows across the walls.

  Jabari moved first.

  He roared, blue flame surging along his blade as he cleaved toward the nearest attacker. The fire burst through the air, illuminating a pale, emotionless face beneath a hood. The man raised a curved sword—but the moment the blue flame touched him, he screamed, flesh scorching black.

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  Lucas shielded his pack with one arm and hurled the metal disc to the ground with the other.

  “Lock array—activate!”

  Runic light erupted outward, forming a golden barrier around the three of them. Two attackers slammed into it and were thrown back violently.

  But the glow faltered almost immediately—dimmed, tugged at by something unseen.

  Lucas’s stomach dropped.

  “Shadow field interference,” he realized. “They’re weakening it.”

  Erika was forced back toward the center of the barrier. The jade pendant burned hot against her chest.

  Without thinking, she pulled a yellow talisman from her pouch. The inked symbols flared as she bit down and shouted:

  “Bind!”

  The talisman ignited.

  A streak of blue-green light shot forward, striking the nearest robed figure. He froze mid-swing, body locking as if seized by invisible chains. His eyes widened, pupils shrinking in terror.

  “Suppressing charm,” Erika whispered, her hands shaking as she felt her qi surge through the paper, crushing the man’s hostile energy.

  Jabari didn’t hesitate.

  He charged, blue flame roaring, and struck the immobilized attacker full force. The body flew backward into the stone wall with a bone-cracking impact. Rubble rained down, swallowing the scream that followed.

  But there were more.

  Far more.

  Black-robed figures poured out of the crowd—fast, coordinated, deadly calm. These weren’t fanatics.

  They were trained.

  And they weren’t aiming for the three of them.

  “They’re after the stone!” Lucas shouted.

  He reached out, golden runic light spilling from his lenses, forming a thread that lashed toward the slab.

  The vendor laughed.

  “Too late.”

  He tore back his sleeve.

  Black sigils crawled across his arm, igniting with a dull crimson glow. The stone slab shuddered—then into the air, flying straight into the grasp of a waiting figure.

  “Stop them!” Erika cried.

  The jade pendant flared.

  A wave of emerald qi blasted outward, knocking several attackers off their feet. But the one holding the stone reacted instantly—his form blurred, dissolving into shadowy mist that slipped through the chaos and vanished into the crowd.

  “Damn it!” Jabari roared, swinging his blade in a wide arc. Blue fire scorched the ground—but found nothing to strike.

  The fight collapsed as quickly as it had begun.

  The Nightfall operatives withdrew in perfect order, melting away into the alleys like a retreating tide. No pursuit. No lingering.

  Only destruction.

  Burning stalls. Broken relics. The wounded groaning among the debris.

  Lucas rushed forward, his detector screaming uselessly.

  “They’ve taken it,” he said flatly, staring into the dark. “Signal’s gone.”

  Erika’s breath came in ragged gasps. The talisman in her hand had crumbled to ash. Her limbs trembled, blood and qi surging chaotically as she nearly dropped to one knee.

  This wasn’t just an encounter.

  This was their first true confrontation with the Nightfall Society.

  And they had lost.

  Amina’s face was grim, darker than the desert night.

  “They won’t stop,” she said. “Once they claim one piece, they hunt the rest. You’re marked now.”

  Wind swept through the ruined market, stirring smoke and ash.

  In the flickering firelight, the three of them exchanged looks—heavy, wordless.

  Erika tightened her grip on the jade pendant.

  “Divided, we fall,” she murmured.

  Then she lifted her head, eyes hard with resolve.

  Failure or not, there was no turning back.

  Far away, unseen, the black-robed figure carrying the rune fragment slipped through the alleys, dissolving into the night like a living shadow. Their body was not fully human—darkness writhed through their veins, weakening blade and spell alike.

  Among the ruins, the four regrouped, breathing hard as the scent of blood and smoke lingered.

  After a moment, Erika spoke quietly.

  “Amina… when did you first cross paths with the Nightfall Society?”

  Silence.

  A collapsed wooden frame creaked nearby. Several pairs of eyes fixed on her.

  Amina didn’t turn.

  Not for a long time.

  Finally, she said softly, “Earlier than you think.”

  She turned away to gather her pack—leaving behind only her back, and a deeper, more dangerous mystery.