"What do you want here?"
Bryce's voice cut through the silence like a knife. His eyes were cold, locked onto Executioner with a sharpness that made the air feel tight.
Executioner stood there in the doorway, one hand in his pocket, the other resting lazily on the doorframe. A smirk twitched at the corner of his mouth, but it didn't reach his eyes.
"I was just walking by…" he said casually. "Heard something about Raven. Did he screw something up again?"
Bryce's jaw clenched, but his tone softened just a bit. "It's nothing, Executioner. Go back to sleep."
Executioner didn't say anything. He gave a short nod, turned, and walked away down the hall. But the flicker in his eyes—sharp, knowing—lingered even after he vanished.
Bryce slammed his palm down on the table. The wood shook beneath his hand. "You saw that? He heard us."
Jaxon crossed his arms, leaning against the wall. His masked face was unreadable, but his voice was firm. "That kid… he's got something wild in him. It's not normal."
Bryce stared at the door, eyes clouded. "You're saying we can't fix him?"
Jaxon didn't hesitate. "No. That soul—the one inside him—it's Raven's. The curse runs deep. You can't train it out. It's not about behavior anymore. It's who he is."
A long silence settled in the room. Neither of them wanted to say more. But they both knew it. They could feel it. Something was wrong with that kid.
Meanwhile, Executioner was already gone.
He hadn't gone back to sleep. He'd stayed just out of sight, listening. He heard every word.
And it made him grin.
Quiet as a shadow, he slipped through the halls. He walked without sound, like he belonged to the dark. He passed by closed doors, flickering torches, creaky floorboards—none of it slowed him down. His destination was clear.
The weapons room.
He stepped inside, his eyes scanning the racks of swords, daggers, spears, and more. But what caught his attention wasn't the blades.
It was the bombs.
His grin widened. His small hands moved fast, grabbing seven of them and tucking them into his shirt.
Then he vanished again.
Out in the training grounds, the night was still and quiet.
Until the first blast.
BOOM!
Then another.
BOOM! BOOM!
Flames lit up the field. Smoke filled the air. The sirens started blaring, shrill and loud.
Doors flew open. Assassins rushed out in every direction, some with weapons drawn, others just confused and half-asleep.
"What the hell's going on?!"
"Someone set off the bombs!"
"Where's the damn Watchers?!"
Executioner crouched behind a stone pillar, barely able to hold in his laughter. His little shoulders shook with every chuckle. His eyes sparkled with mischief.
"Who did this?!" Jaxon's voice echoed across the grounds.
Executioner was already gone.
He slipped back through the shadows, dashed into his room, locked the door, and dove into bed. He yanked the blanket over himself and shut his eyes, letting out fake snores.
Moments later—bang bang bang!
"Executioner!" Bryce's voice. "Open the door!"
A sleepy, groggy voice floated through the wood. "Dad? What's going on?"
Bryce stared at the door, his face unreadable. Behind him, Jaxon and a few assassins stood still, tense.
Bryce frowned. "Hmm… If it wasn't him…"
He turned and walked off.
Inside the room, Executioner peeked through the blanket, his grin wide.
"They don't know," he whispered.
He jumped on the bed, spinning and laughing, dancing like a child who just got away with murder. His feet thudded softly against the mattress as he leapt around. After a few minutes, he flopped onto the bed, panting with laughter.
That's when he heard it.
Something at the window.
He froze, the joy draining from his face. Slowly, he crept over, careful not to make a sound.
There, perched on a thin branch just outside, was a bird.
Black feathers. Small. Its eyes glowing faintly.
Executioner's lips curled into a strange little smile. "Raven... you're here."
The bird tilted its head, watching him.
Executioner turned away and tiptoed through the hall. He crept into Jaxon's armory, stole a single arrow, and returned to his room.
He opened the window just enough to get a clear shot.
"Bye-bye, mommy," he whispered, voice colder than the wind.
He let the arrow fly.
The bird gave a faint cry as it dropped from the branch and vanished into the shadows below.
Executioner pulled the window shut, spun around, and dived under the covers just as footsteps echoed down the hall.
Creaaaak
Bryce opened the door and peeked inside. "You okay?"
Executioner gave a slow thumbs up, eyes still half-closed. "Yeah…"
Bryce looked at him for a few seconds, then quietly closed the door.
Executioner waited until the footsteps faded.
Then, he opened one eye.
"Hehe… got him."
Outside his door, two assassins were whispering.
"You think it was a kid?" one of them said. "The bombs, I mean."
"Had to be. The whole setup was childish."
Executioner's smile dropped. His face went red.
The rage crept in, thick and fast.
Kill them.
He grabbed his sword and slipped out the door without a sound. He followed the voices, creeping low through the hall and out into the moonlit garden.
The two men walked ahead, unaware.
Executioner climbed into a tree, crouching low. He picked up a rock and threw it.
Thud
One of the assassins turned. "What was that?"
He stepped forward to check.
Executioner dropped down behind him and drove the blade straight through the man's head. Blood sprayed out like a fountain. The body crumpled to the grass without a sound.
The second assassin turned, his face pale with shock.
"Show yourself!" he shouted.
Executioner stepped out of the shadows.
He jumped high, blade aimed down.
The sword sliced clean through the man. His body split, blood pooling around him.
Executioner stood there in silence.
Suddenly—a gun clicked.
Far off, someone had him in their sights.
Executioner didn't flinch.
The man pulled the trigger—click.
Jam.
Executioner vanished.
The gunman froze.
"Wha—?"
A voice from behind, soft and deadly.
"Hello."
Then, the blade. Right through the spine. Up into the skull.
The man screamed.
Executioner yanked the sword out and swung. The head flew, blood spraying the leaves.
Executioner stood still, watching the mess.
Then—footsteps.
Voices.
Bryce and Jaxon were coming.
Executioner turned fast—but his leg slipped into a small hole hidden by the grass.
"Shit!" he hissed under his breath.
He pulled.
Still stuck.
The footsteps got closer. Closer.
He tugged harder, eyes wide now.
"Come on… come on…"
Too late.