"I should really get going," Ulrich said, keeping his voice light despite the tension coiling in his chest. "Got an early start tomorrow, and the carriage schedule gets unpredictable after midnight."

  Donnie's expression remained friendly, but something flickered in his eyes. "You came all the way to Portsmouth this late just for five minutes of conversation? Stay the night. We've got spare rooms, and Adeline would enjoy the company over breakfast."

  "I appreciate the offer, but I've got obligations back in my company."

  "What kind of obligations can't wait until morning?" Donnie moved slightly, positioning himself between Ulrich and the door.

  Ulrich glanced toward Adeline, still playing with the bunny plushie near the fireplace. She seemed completely oblivious to the tension building between the two men, her attention focused on making the toy hop across the armrest of her chair.

  If this went wrong, she would be caught in the crossfire, something Ulrich wished to avoid at all costs.

  Under the guise of casual movement, Ulrich activated Shadow Thread. The strands manifested invisibly, weaving through the air toward Donnie's shadow with creeping movement. They struck silently, wrapping around the dual-layered shadow with binding force.

  Donnie went completely still, but not the natural stillness of someone pausing mid-motion. His eyes locked onto Ulrich with sudden intensity, and when he spoke, his voice carried an edge that hadn't been there moments before.

  "That's an interesting trick."

  Ulrich's heart hammered.

  He focused his intent, trying to use Puppet Mastery for greater control. The talent should allow him to manipulate Donnie's body through his shadow, yet nothing happened.

  The Shadow Thread held firm, keeping Donnie immobilized. But Puppet Mastery failed to establish any control, as though something was actively resisting his spell and talent. Ulrich pushed harder, pouring more spirituality into the attempt.

  Still nothing.

  Whatever possessed Donnie Shelby had defenses against shadow manipulation that went beyond simple resistance.

  "I really need to leave," Ulrich said, his casual tone slowly turning cold.

  "I don't think so." Donnie's friendly expression twisted into something else entirely. "You've seen too much."

  Adeline looked up from her plushie, confusion evident on her face. "Donnie? What's going on?"

  "Nothing you need to worry about, sister." Donnie's voice remained calm, but his shadow writhed against Ulrich's binding. "Go upstairs. Lock your door. Don't come out until I call for you."

  "But—"

  "Now, Adeline."

  She stood uncertain, clutching the plushie, her gaze moving between her brother and Ulrich. The atmosphere in the room had changed so dramatically that even someone without supernatural perception could feel the strangeness.

  Ulrich made his decision.

  He injected Blessing of Night with his spirituality, his sense exploding like a raging flame. And he burned spirituality with reckless abandon, manifesting Shadow Thread in far greater volume than he'd used before. Dozens of strands erupted from his fingertips, weaving through the air in complex patterns. They struck Donnie's shadow from multiple angles simultaneously, layering binding upon binding until the possessed man got completely locked in place.

  Two seconds. An estimation of time that Ulrich could intuitively grasp through the feedback of his shadow threads.

  "Adeline, run!" Ulrich shouted, his voice cutting through the room with desperate urgency. "Get outside, go to the safehouse on Mariner Street. Don't stop!"

  Dark Arrows manifested around him with cold, blowing wind; dozens of shadow weapons formed simultaneously. Each one aimed at Donnie Shelby's immobilized form, positioned to strike from angles that would make dodging impossible.

  Adeline's eyes widened, her gaze fixing on the supernatural weapons hovering in the air. Whatever confusion she had felt evaporated, replaced by the survival instinct of someone recognizing danger. She'd trusted Ulrich before, had witnessed his reliability during their many crisis.

  She trusted him now.

  Adeline bolted for the door, the plushie still clutched in her arms. Ulrich heard her footsteps pounding across the floor, the door slamming open, her breathing ragged as she ran into Portsmouth's night.

  The two seconds passed, and Ulrich released the Dark Arrows in a coordinated volley, each weapon streaking toward Donnie's shadow with lethal intent. They struck from multiple angles simultaneously, concentrating force on the dual-layered shadow that marked the possession.

  Wind and dust exploded through the room as the attacks connected. Furniture shattered, the wooden floor splintered, and smoke filled the air with choking thickness. He waited for the dust to settle, expecting to see some damage.

  When the smoke cleared, Donnie Shelby stood exactly as before, completely unscratched.

  Not a single mark on his body. Not even torn clothing. The Dark Arrows had struck as intended, Ulrich was certain of that. But they'd passed through Donnie without effect, as though hitting something that existed partially outside physical reality.

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  Dread flooded Ulrich's consciousness.

  This wasn't just possession. It was a transformation beyond his current understanding. Whatever inhabited Donnie had integrated itself so deeply that normal attacks couldn't harm him.

  Ulrich used Shadow Step without hesitation, sinking into the nearest shadow and emerging by the window across the room. His hand was already reaching into his coat, pulling out the red signal flare that every Watchman carried for emergencies.

  He broke the seal and hurled the flare through the window.

  It shot into the night sky with a piercing whistle, exploding in brilliant crimson light that painted Portsmouth's fog in bloody illumination. Simultaneously, Ulrich grabbed the whistle amulet hanging around his neck. The same whistle that bore a spiritual connection with Rosaline. He recited the corresponding chant in Hermes, felt the amulet warm against his chest, and blew a sharp note through it.

  Yet, there was no sound. But Ulrich knew that backup was coming, and all he needed now was to worry about the thing in front of him. Which meant Ulrich's priority had changed from escape to survival.

  He needed to buy time. Keep Donnie occupied until Ministry reinforcements arrive. Survive long enough for Rosaline and Captain Ottis to mobilize a response team. All the while, keeping it far from people to avoid collateral damage.

  Donnie's figure blurred, moving with speed that shouldn't be possible for a human body. He crossed the distance between them in a fraction of a second, his hand extending toward Ulrich's throat.

  Ulrich manifested a Dark Arrow in spear form and swept it horizontally, aiming for Donnie's reaching arm. The weapon passed through flesh without resistance, confirming what he'd already suspected.

  Physical attacks were useless.

  But Ulrich was a Shadowmancer. Physical attack wasn't his only option.

  He focused his Shadow Vision fully active, watching Donnie's dual-layered shadow move across the floor. The outer layer moved with the body. The inner layer moved independently, writhing like something alive trying to break free.

  Shadow Thread lashed out again, targeting the inner shadow specifically. The strands wrapped around it with binding force, and this time Ulrich felt a sturdy resistance.

  Donnie reacted immediately, his mouth opening inhumanly wide. The sound that emerged belonged to no human throat, a shriek that existed more in the mind than in physical space. Banshee wail, an attack which shouldn't have been possible by a human.

  Ulrich's mind stung, feeling the worst of the psychic assault. But the distraction was enough. Donnie's shadow twisted, slipping partially free of the Shadow Thread binding. And they clashed in earnest.

  Donnie manifested abilities that marked him as something between a possessed human and an actual spirit. Wraith-like extensions emerged from his shadow, reaching toward Ulrich with incorporeal hands. While Banshee shrieks disrupted his concentration repeatedly. And Donnie's movements became erratic, unpredictable, as though multiple consciousnesses were fighting for control of the same body.

  Ulrich responded with everything in his arsenal.

  Shadow Thread to bind and restrict, even Night Chains. Dark Arrows aimed at the inner shadow layer specifically. Shadow Step to create distance when wraith extensions came too close. And Blessing of Night allows him to keep up physically, as well as amplifying his own danger sense.

  Yet, Ulrich could not be assured of his own survival.

  Incrementally, steadily, Donnie wore down his spirituality.

  Minutes passed. The room descended into chaos, furniture reduced to splinters, walls scarred by errant attacks, the air thick with supernatural pressure that made breathing difficult.

  Then Ulrich saw an opening.

  Donnie overextended during a wraith assault, his inner shadow momentarily exposed without defensive coverage. Shadow Thread lashed out with enhanced force, wrapping around the vulnerable target with multiple layers of binding.

  Success.

  The possessed man was locked immobile again, his dual-layered shadow pinned completely. And this time, Ulrich had better positioning. He manifested a Dark Arrow in spear form and drove it toward Donnie's leg shadow, aiming to sever the limb's connection and render him unable to move.

  The spear thrusts forward with all his enhanced strength. And if it landed, the result would've allowed Ulrich to gain an incredible advantage.

  However, Ulrich's danger sense buzzed with a warning he couldn't process fast enough.

  Throughout their fight, he'd been landing hits. Not devastating blows, but consistent damage that chipped away at Donnie's spirit form. Each strike had felt like progress, weakening the possessed entity incrementally.

  Except it hadn't been damage, but intentional fragmentation.

  As a Shadowmancer, Ulrich specialized in shadow manipulation and physical combat enhancement. He wasn't trained in spirit-specific techniques, lacking the knowledge to recognize when spirits deliberately split their essence to create secondary forms.

  Donnie had been feeding him false victories, allowing chunks of his spiritual body to separate during combat. And those separated pieces hadn't dissipated.

  They'd been moving into position behind Ulrich, assembling themselves into a secondary entity that had waited patiently for exactly this moment: The exact moment Ulrich committed fully to an attack and couldn't dodge.

  Cold struck Ulrich's back, coursing through his body like a winter stream of water. He felt something invade his consciousness, forcing itself into the spaces between his thoughts. Not violent possession like the vengeful spirit at Augustus Manor.

  His body locked rigid, muscles seizing as control transferred away from his will.

  Ulrich tried to activate Shadow Thread, but found the technique sluggish and unresponsive. Attempted to use Shadow Step, yet his body wouldn't obey the command as he'd like. Even his enhanced senses began dulling, the Blessing of Night's clarity fading as something else seeded deep into his spiritual body.

  I'm possessed, That realization struck Ulrich greater than he'd like to admit.

  Since when?

  Ulrich's body moved without his permission, straightening from combat stance into relaxed posture. His hand released the manifested spear, letting it dissolve back into lingering shadow. His expression, he couldn't see it but could feel the muscles adjusting, shifted into calm neutrality.

  Inside, Ulrich struggled to break free.

  He threw every ounce of will against the invading presence, trying to reassert control over his own consciousness. But it wasn't enough.

  The possession integrated deeper, spreading through his spiritual body like ice crystallizing in water. Ulrich felt his ability to control his limbs diminish to almost nothing. He could still think and perceive the world through his senses, but couldn't translate them into action.

  In the end, Ulrich admitted one truth: he was trapped. Completely and utterly chained inside his own body, while something overthrew his position of the spirit in a body.

  Donnie's possessed form approached, nodding as he examined Ulrich's body.

  "Much better," Donnie said, his voice carrying layered harmonics. "The Bishop will be pleased."

  Ulrich tried to speak, but only managed to feel his lips twitch fractionally before the possessing entity suppressed even that small movement.

  Inside his mind, panic transformed into a series of mental calculations. He couldn't control his body or access most of his abilities. But he could still think clearly, as though watching his body through a displayed screen.

  Backup is coming.

  He just had to survive until then.