Guided by his enhanced perception, Priam followed Jasmine down the corridor toward the Assassins’ Guild. The closer they got, the denser the shadows beca, until activating [Dark Vision] was no longer a choice but a necessity. When even infrared and ultraviolet light faded away, Priam knew they had arrived. Ahead, the path ended abruptly in a wall of impenetrable darkness.
“A dead end? How original. I’m sure the cops would take one look and decide to turn back.”
“Were you expecting a sign that says, ‘Shadows’ Guild, welco’?” Jasmine smirked before flexing her Concept. The dark obstacle dissolved into a swirling black mist.
“At least a sign would confuse the enemy.”
Stepping forward, Priam found himself in what could have been mistaken for the lobby of a high-end bank. White walls glead under soft lighting, screens displayed video feeds of the city, green plants added a touch of life, and an unassuming reception desk stood at the center. Seated behind it was a young woman, engrossed in a book while faint background music played. If not for the jagged scar tracing from her chin, splitting her lips and blinding one eye, she might have passed for perfectly ordinary.
She hadn’t noticed the arrival of two Champions.
Priam’s body tensed, his hand twitching toward Prosse. Should they strike first? Potentially kill soone who might simply be in the wrong place at the wrong ti. A part of his mind questioned his justification. Was working as a secretary for an assassins’ guild a sin worthy of death?
Jasmine broke the silence, stepping forward with casual confidence.
“Hey!”
“Good evening—” The secretary looked up, freezing mid-sentence. Her eyes widened. “Twilight Jasmine?!”
Raising an eyebrow, Jasmine shook her head. “Didn’t realize I was that famous... I need information. Specifically, the latest on the Council of Barons’ leader.”
“Right away!”
The young woman snapped into action, her hands flying across an unseen interface. anwhile, Jasmine’s shadows extended behind her, deftly plucking a keycard from a board on the wall. Priam quirked an eyebrow.
“Access to the training room,” Jasmine explained without looking back.
“Mmh.” Priam turned his attention to the secretary, who worked with unnerving zeal. “She seems scared of you.”
“I’ve noticed. She also recognizes and I wasn’t that famous. Think they’ve figured out I’m a Champion now?”
Before Priam could respond, the secretary spoke again. “Here. I’ll transfer the files to—”
“No need,” Jasmine interrupted, circling the desk to skim the docunts herself. A quick glance later, she nodded. “Perfect. Have a good night.”
“Thank you. And, uh...”
“Yes?”
“The extraordinary eting room has moved. It’s in the old vault, in seventy-six minutes.”
Jasmine exchanged a glance with Priam before nodding. “Thanks for the heads-up.”
With that, she approached a wall to the east and pressed a button. Priam followed her near the elevator.
“No stairs?”
“You’re claustrophobic?”
“Nope, but I got stuck in one once. Ever since, I’ve preferred stairs.”
Jasmine grimaced and pointed to a thin black, almost hidden line running along the walls of the room. As it approached the elevator, the line split—one half disappearing into the ceiling, the other into the floor.
“See that?”
Priam leaned in, scanning the anomaly. His Domain revealed a narrow hollow carved into the concrete, filled with shadows.
“An umbra path, right? For quick travel using your Concept.”
“We call it the ‘highway’. The best assassins use it while weaklings take the elevator. It keeps them from accessing restricted areas. There are no stairs, so if an enemy breaches this place, they’d have to demolish walls, floors, and ceilings just to move forward.”
“I want one in Oasis,” Priam declared, flooding the hollow with his mist. He grunted when it was repelled by the shadows, which felt almost liquid. Breaking through would require brute force—and it wouldn’t go unnoticed.
“If this elevator breaks down, I’m blowing this building to hell,” he muttered as the doors slid shut.
Fate must have decided explosions could wait for the end of the heist as the descent was uneventful. When the doors reopened dozens of ters below ground, Priam checked the underground guild hideout off the cliché list.
They stepped into a long corridor lined with doors every fifty ters on one side.
“Still no one around,” Priam remarked.
“This part of the complex is usually closed when people are asleep.”
“Assassins sleep? How... mundane.”
“Most maintain multiple real-world identities. Gotta keep up appearances. Plus, a lot of them probably died during their Tutorial or Tribulations, so it’s not surprising we haven’t run into anyone.”
“Fair enough, if a little disappointing.”
“Not enough action for you?” Jasmine’s voice dripped with sarcasm.
“Well, stealing candy from my mom was harder than sneaking in here. She used to weigh the bags to make sure I hadn’t taken any.”
“Maybe that’s because your guide——grew up here and is deactivating every trap before you even see them? And your mom sounds... odd.”
“You have no idea. Lead the way.”
As Jasmine strode ahead, Priam trailed behind, turning his head occasionally to survey their surroundings. The first door bore a plaque that read Midnight. Fifty ters down, the next door was labeled Zenith. Passing Sunset, Jasmine finally stopped at the corridor’s end.
“Twilight. The hour when shadows rule the world,” Jasmine murmured.
Priam sensed it wasn’t the ti to point out that they shouldn’t be speaking aloud.
“So, these are the four levels of your guild?”
“Mmh. Every assassin is ranked based on these poetic classifications. If you ask , it’s just an excuse for one of our founders to wax lyrical.”
“Explain anyway.”
Priam had developed a fondness for poetry after watching Dead Poets Society.
“Beginners are Midnight rank—they rely on the darkness of night to remain unseen. They must endure basic assassin training: stealth, infiltration, killing. Then cos Zenith—nothing to do with Tier 10. Shadows are at their sharpest when the sun is at its peak. That’s when we develop an affinity for the Shadow Concept and use it. Those who fail remain pawns for life.”
“No one awakens Darkness or so similar Concept?” Priam asked. Environnt, dreams, personality, and experiences were all key factors in shaping a person’s affinity for a Concept. Raised by the assassins’ guild, youths had a high chance of awakening the desired Concept. Yet, Shadow had cousins that innate talent might prefer and it was likely that a few guild mbers deviated from the desired path.
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“It happens. They’re accepted but rarely rise further.” Jasmine shrugged, indifferent to the unfairness. “Sunset—the hour when light fades but shadows linger—is equivalent to Symphony. Mastery of shadows is required, akin to a politician wielding fear, a swordmaster commanding their blade, or a virtuoso playing their instrunt. Only one in ten thousand reach this level.” She turned to the final door. “That was my rank when I entered the Tutorial. I was the only Sunset at Tier 0.”
“You want to see your guild’s final secrets,” Priam guessed, eyeing the door marked Twilight. Whatever happened today, Jasmine wouldn’t return to the guild that had raised her. This might be her last chance to exploit their centuries of knowledge.
“Think it’s foolish?”
“I think it’s brilliant.” Priam’s grin turned feral. “Take everything not nailed to the wall.”
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