Larkin stumbled back, ink dripping from several wounds Bright had carved into him. The handler’s breathing turned ragged—too ragged for a low- adept who should have had better stamina.
Bright’s eyes narrowed.
Larkin wasn’t truly trained.
He wasn’t hardened.
His abilities were powerful, but he lacked the backbone to use them properly.
Working as an infiltrator wasn’t really a good way to build a foundation in battle and the rest of his prowess was hollowed out from the great amount of ti he spent as a virus in the hollows.
Bright stepped forward again, blade lowered like a predator’s fang.
Larkin raised a trembling hand.
"Back... BACK!"
His ntal dampening flared—
—but Mara was here.
Unleashing her calm mind ability to support Bright’s focus in the battle. This was the only way she could have an affect on a battle of this stage and pedigree.
Bright relied on his own sharpened mind boosted with Mara’s ability’s soothing effect to dampen the consequence larkin’s ability had on his mind.
His danger sense acted like a psychopathic investigator screaming in his ears as he entered an unprecedented flow state, increasing his mastery of his first core ability.
IGNORE THE HAZE—MOVE THROUGH IT—CUT LEFT!
Bright slashed.
Larkin scread as the blade grazed his thigh.
He stumbled, nearly folded.
Bright did not slow.
Larkin raised both hands, ink swirling like a mist around his arms—
Bright stepped into the cloud.
He didn’t wait.
Didn’t hesitate.
His danger sense guided every angle.
He struck.
Once at the ribs.
Once across the knee.
Once across the chest.
Larkin cried out, the effect of his ntal dampening flickering like a dying fla.
"You... you... How... why... why... WHY CAN YOU SEE ?"
Bright didn’t answer.
He leapt forward—
—and Larkin blurred backwards, retreating.
His spatial awareness pulsed desperately.
He saw three angles.
Calculated four counters.
Plotted five escape routes.
Bright cut through all of them.
His blade carved the air with precision that forced Larkin to overcorrect—throwing off his footwork, his balance, his breathing.
Larkin staggered.
"STOP!"
Bright did not.
He advanced, each step firm.
Larkin’s eyes widened as he realized—
He could not win this fight.
He swung to the left to make a play at Mara, who looked the most feeble in bright’s upstart crew.
Mara shrieked realizing what he planned to do, but bright was one step ahead. Trailing from behind, he called out to lira, who was already aware of the situation and used her speed enhancent ability pushing Mara out of the path.
Larkin recognizing that his plans weren’t going to co to fruition darted sideways, retreating toward the shadow of the silo.
Bright figured he would try to escape from the fight and cut him off at his right flank.
He sprinted, closing the distance between them.
Larkin snarled and unleashed another burst of ink-thread projectiles.
Bright deflected two.
Dodged three.
And let the least harmful one from his deduction graze his arm leaving a shallow wound.
He pushed through the barrage and slamd his armored shoulder into Larkin’s chest.
Larkin collapsed onto his back.
Bright stood over him, blade pointed down.
The handler tried to rise—
Bright kicked him in the ribs.
Bone cracked.
Larkin gasped, ink splattering the ground.
"You... you don’t understand..." he coughed. "I can’t die here. The Great One—he watches—he—"
Bright pointed his sword at Larkin’s throat.
"I don’t care."
Larkin froze.
The void in his eyes flickered.
Fear crept in.
"Listen," Larkin said quickly, voice trembling, "listen to —listen—Morgan—Bright—there are forces you haven’t even glimpsed. The Covenant is only the beginning. The Great One—he is waking—he is—he must, we have been given a decree"
Bright lowered the blade slightly.
Larkin’s eyes brightened. Rembering all he read on Morgan and his debacle in the shroud, he had a sly thought and tried bluffing his way from a gang violence style execution at his neck.
"YES—yes, listen—listen—your presence in the Shroud wasn’t accidental—your path was chosen—"
Bright stepped forward and pressed the blade against Larkin’s neck.
Larkin choked on his own words.
"You think I care about your god?" Bright asked quietly.
The handler trembled violently.
"N-no. No, you do not. But you should. Because he—"
Bright’s danger sense erupted.
Not whispers or mummurs but clear coherent speech.
LARKIN WILL STRIKE ,KILL HIM NOW!
Bright moved instantly.
He raised his blade—
—but Larkin spat sothing.
Ink.
A mouthful.
It splattered Bright’s face.
His danger sense scread in alarm—
—but not for Bright.
Behind him, we’re hailen was!
Bright spun.
Larkin, half-dead, had thrown another ink spike straight toward Hailen, who was struggling to stand.
Bright didn’t think.
He leapt.
Ti slowed in his vision.
His blade flashed.
He intercepted the spike midair, his strengthened steel sword absorbing the force of the blow with a violent clang,cracks spreading around the blade.
Bright landed in front of Hailen.
The teacher stared—shocked.
Bright didn’t breathe.
Didn’t even blink.
He turned back toward Larkin.
The handler stared at him, eyes wide with disbelief.
"You blocked... that...? You blocked it?"
Bright said nothing.
He approached.
Every step echoed.
Larkin backed up, slipping in his own ink.
"No—no—no—NO—stay AWAY—!"
Bright raised his blade.
Larkin lifted his hands, as if warding off the inevitable.
Bright looked at him in disgust and said."you should find solace returning to your great one. I do not see why you take your death so personally, scowling, seething, it is deplorable. As for , I’d be negotiating a raise. Fellow an enemy should co with perks."
Bright swung.
The blade struck.
Larkin went still.
Ink pooled.
The silence grew thick.
The night felt... colder.
Bright exhaled.
His danger sense cald—finally—like a rushing current slowing to a steady flow.
The handler of shadows was dead.
Bright turned to Hailen.
His teacher struggled to speak. "Bright... you—"
Bright shook his head.
"It’s over," he said.
But Hailen looked past him.
Fear spreading across his face.
"...Bright..."
Bright felt it too.
It wasn’t a threat, it felt larger than the weight of his existence. You could drown in the ocean but it doesn’t an you should perceive it as a threat. It’s just is—A universal truth as all forces of nature should be.
It was sothing else.
From the ink pooling around Larkin’s corpse—
—a ripple spread outward.
A presence.
Bright staggered back.
The ink went still.
The presence vanished.
Hailen exhaled shakily.
"Bright... what was that...?"
Bright stared at the ink-stained ground.
His danger sense was trembling again.
Not from Larkin.
Not from any cultist.
From sothing else.
Sothing far away.
Sothing aware.
He tightened his grip on his blade.
Whatever had noticed him—
—it wasn’t done.
Not yet.
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