The night was unnaturally silent. Too silent.
Kael felt it before he saw it—a shift in the air, the weight of a gaze unseen. They weren't alone.
Orin, standing nearby, tensed. "Something's wrong."
Mira remained still, her fingers resting near the hilt of her blade. "Let them make the first move."
A flicker of movement above. Then—silence.
Kael's instincts screamed. "Move!"
Death From Above
A shadow dropped from the rooftops. No sound. No warning.
Steel flashed—a dagger slicing toward Kael's throat.
Kael barely twisted in time, the blade grazing his skin. Too fast. Too precise.
Mira lashed out with her own weapon, but the attacker evaded effortlessly, moving like a specter. Their presence was suffocating. Calculated.
Orin swore under his breath. "Damn it. They sent a Phantom."
Kael's jaw tightened. A Phantom Assassin.
The Syndicate's most feared killers. Ghosts that left no traces—except corpses.
The Silent Killer
The assassin straightened, gripping twin curved daggers. Their mask—silver, expressionless, gleaming under the moonlight.
Then, in a voice as hollow as the void, they spoke.
"Kael Veyne. The Syndicate has ordered your death."
And then—they attacked.q