Her wrist twisted easily inside the binds.

  Too easily.

  The rope strained against her movement, fibers stretching under her strength. Whoever tied her had done a decent job—but not a good enough one. The knots weren’t meant for someone like her.

  She flexed again, testing the give. It would snap when she wanted it to.

  They had been friendly enough earlier. Friendly enough to invite her to join their hunt. She still didn’t know why she agreed. Maybe it was convenient. Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was boredom.

  Whatever the reason, she’d fallen for it.

  Now she was tied up beside a man who wouldn’t stop talking, surrounded by people who were clearly not hunters.

  “Nyx,” Uriel’s voice slipped calmly into her thoughts, “shall I handle this? You appear to be in need of assistance.”

  She exhaled sharply through her nose and shook her head.

  Not yet.

  “I will intervene whenever you are ready,” Uriel replied smoothly.

  Across the room, the kidnappers paced lazily. They weren’t worried. They weren’t rushed. To them, the two tied figures against the wall weren’t threats—they were assets.

  They leaned against crates, boots scraping against stone, voices low but careless.

  “I think the girl could fetch a nice price,” one of them said, scratching at his chin.

  “She’s competent enough to be a hunter,” another added, eyes dragging over Nyx. “And it looks like she’s got more than enough money on her.”

  A third snorted. “Then we take the money and sell her. Highest bidder wins.”

  They nodded in agreement like they were discussing livestock.

  “Well, what about the boy?” one of them asked.

  They turned their attention to him.

  “Judging by his armor,” the first man said slowly, “he’s got to be from a rich or noble family.”

  “Good,” another replied with a grin. “We hold him captive. Send word. Once they pay the ransom—”

  “We dump his body.”

  They burst into laughter. Loud. Crude. Certain.

  By the end of the night—or the week, depending on negotiations—they planned to be rich.

  Beside her, the boy went pale.

  Nyx felt the tremor in his shoulder before she saw it. His breathing grew shallow, uneven.

  “This cannot be happening,” he muttered under his breath. “Why is this happening? I can’t believe this is happening.”

  His voice cracked.

  “I can’t die like this. I haven’t even completed my first job yet.”

  His panic rose with every word.

  “You need to be quiet,” Nyx finally said, her tone flat.

  His head snapped toward her so fast she heard his armor shift.

  “You—you can talk?” he stammered. “I didn’t know you could talk. Are you alright? How exactly are you going to get us out of this?”

  She huffed softly, irritation bleeding into her voice.

  “I’ll get us out,” she said quietly. “But you need to calm down.”

  His mouth opened again.

  “That is not important right now,” she cut in before he could spiral again. “Do you know where we are?”

  He swallowed.

  “I… I can’t recall.”

  Of course he couldn’t.

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  She sighed.

  Uriel.

  “Yes, Nyx.”

  Do you have a plan?

  A pause.

  “Yes. At your command, I can subdue them. Afterward, you may relocate and hide until you decide your next course of action.”

  Direct. Efficient.

  Nyx tilted her head slightly toward the boy.

  “Is there a town nearby?” she asked quietly. “Somewhere we can stay?”

  He blinked, still shaken.

  “Well… I would need to know where we are exactly,” he said weakly. “But if we get out of here, I think I could figure it out.”

  That would have to do.

  She adjusted her wrists again, feeling the rope strain further.

  “Alright,” she murmured.

  Her fingers tightened.

  “Here’s the plan.”

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  After a while, they had returned.

  The door creaked open slowly this time. No laughter. No laziness. Just boots scraping against stone as they stepped inside.

  They sneered at the two of them.

  “Now,” the leader said, cracking his knuckles, “let’s get started.”

  Nyx didn’t move.

  But inside her mind—

  Uriel.

  There was no hesitation.

  “Rise.”

  The word did not echo loudly.

  It didn’t need to.

  The shadows shifted first.

  They peeled away from the corners of the room like ink spilling across parchment. The temperature dropped. The torches flickered violently as if trying to flee from something unseen.

  And then they stood.

  Tall. Silent. Formed from darkness and steel.

  The shadow soldiers.

  The prince froze.

  His breath caught in his throat, and he squeezed his eyes shut as if that alone could erase what stood before him.

  The kidnappers stumbled back.

  “What—?!”

  They hadn’t expected resistance.

  They certainly hadn’t expected this.

  Zarkov moved first.

  His body twisted in unnatural angles, limbs bending with fluid precision as he closed the distance in a blink. A blade was ripped from one man’s hand. A crossbow snapped in half before another could lift it.

  Metal clattered against the floor.

  Len and Ryu surged forward next.

  They didn’t roar. Didn’t speak. They simply fought.

  Left.

  Right.

  Forward.

  It wasn’t a battle.

  It was a correction.

  The kidnappers swung wildly, panic replacing confidence. Steel scraped against shadow-forged weapons. One man lunged, only to be swept off his feet. Another tried to run, only to be thrown against the wall with crushing force.

  They had never seen creatures like this before.

  And it showed.

  Within moments, they were overwhelmed.

  Utterly defeated.

  Frosty stood beside Nyx, low growl rumbling in his throat.

  She reached for the prince’s bound hands and pulled him upright.

  “Move.”

  Frosty darted ahead, clearing the path toward the door.

  Behind them, the kidnappers groaned and scrambled, but they were pinned, disarmed, surrounded.

  Don’t kill them, Uriel.

  “Of course.”

  Nyx didn’t look back.

  They ran.

  Through the door. Down the narrow corridor. Past broken crates and scattered debris.

  Frosty led them unerringly, paws barely making a sound as he guided them through the forest path outside. Branches snapped under hurried steps. The prince stumbled twice but Nyx didn’t slow.

  They didn’t stop until they reached a clearing.

  Only then did Nyx slow her pace.

  The shadows gathered around them in a protective circle.

  Uriel receded.

  Nyx felt control settle back into her limbs like a familiar cloak.

  The soldiers stood tall around her, silent and steady. Frosty wagged his tail once, proud.

  Everyone was satisfied.

  Everyone-

  Except the prince.

  He stared.

  At the soldiers.

  At Frosty.

  At her.

  Everything had happened too quickly for him to fully understand. One moment he was waiting to be sold. The next—

  “What was that?!” he burst out, eyes wide, voice trembling. “What was that?!”

  His chest rose and fell unevenly.

  Nyx didn’t answer the question.

  “That’s not important right now,” she said, her tone steady. “Do you know where we are?”

  He swallowed hard.

  “I… I’m not sure,” he admitted. “It’s my first time this far out.”

  She sighed.

  Again.

  “Is there a town or village nearby?”

  He didn’t respond immediately.

  He was still trying to steady his breathing, still glancing at the shadow soldiers as if they might vanish if he blinked too long.

  “Ugh.” Nyx pressed her fingers to her temple. A faint ache had started to bloom there.

  She turned toward Frosty instead.

  “Can you track a town or village nearby?” she asked patiently.

  Frosty barked once, tail wagging eagerly. He lowered his nose to the ground and began sniffing, moving left and right in quick bursts.

  He darted forward, disappearing briefly between trees.

  The prince looked alarmed.

  But Frosty returned moments later, trotting proudly. He turned, facing north-west, and gave a short bark.

  Then he ran ahead again, glancing back to make sure they followed.

  Nyx smiled faintly and patted his head when he came close.

  “Thanks, Frosty. You’re the best.”

  He licked her hand happily.

  “Let’s go,” she said to the prince.

  He hesitated.

  “Are you sure that’s the right way?” he asked nervously. “What if we get lost?”

  Nyx turned toward him slowly.

  “Do you know another way?”

  He opened his mouth.

  She didn’t wait.

  “You can stay here,” she said flatly. “Wait for those criminals to find you again. Or become dinner for whatever’s wandering around in the dark.”

  Silence.

  That settled it.

  He hurried after her without another word.

  They walked.

  And walked.

  The forest grew denser. The air cooler.

  Fatigue began creeping into their steps. The prince’s breathing grew heavier. Even Nyx felt the strain in her legs after the earlier tension.

  Then-

  A shape appeared in the distance.

  A silhouette against the horizon.

  It looked like a village.

  But something was wrong.

  The fog was thick.

  Too thick.

  It swallowed rooftops and blurred the outline of buildings, turning them into vague shadows.

  Still.

  Shelter was shelter.

  They could rest there for the night. If anything happened, she would handle it.

  As they approached, Nyx turned slightly.

  “You guys can go now.” She said to them very softly.

  The shadow soldiers dissolved instantly, melting back into her shadow.

  Frosty paused, then disappeared the same way.

  Now it was just her.

  The prince.

  And Uriel.

  The fog brushed against her skin, cool and damp.

  Nyx.

  Uriel’s voice was quieter now.

  Caution.

  She slowed her steps.

  I can sense strange mana coming from here.

  Nyx didn’t stop walking.

  But her hand tightened slightly at her side..

  And together, they stepped into the fog.

  Well.

  That just happened.

  So… how are we feeling?

  Did it hit? Did it emotionally uppercut you? Did it politely tap you on the shoulder and then shove you down a staircase?

  I need to know.

  Drop your thoughts. Theories. Screams. Concerns. Emotional support essays.

  Feedback? Yes.

  Constructive criticism? Absolutely.

  Unhinged speculation threads? Even better.

  I’m genuinely open to all of it. This is our chaotic little lab and I like seeing what you all pick up on that I didn’t even realize I planted.

  As for the other projects — they are very much alive. Not buried. Not abandoned. Just… moving at “full-time job + full-time university” speed.

  Delayed? A little.

  Dead? Never.

  I’m still building. Still plotting. Still cooking up things that may or may not emotionally ruin you in the future.

  So stay tuned. New stories are coming. Slowly… but with intention.

  Thank you again for reading. For commenting. For existing in this weird creative universe with me.

  See y’all next week.

  (And yes, I will remember this time.)