Chapter 4: The Iron-Grip’s Den
The Iron-Grip Gang didn’t build; they infested. They had taken over an old ventilation hub that once served the mid-tier factories. Now, it was a fortress of rusted corrugated iron and stolen neon lights. Steam hissed from broken pipes, masking the sound of Kaelen’s boots as he approached the perimeter.
“Stay focused,” Kaelen whispered to himself. His heart was steady, a strange contrast to the frantic thrumming he used to feel when dodging gang patrols. The System’s cold energy acted like an anchor, grounding his nerves.
[Active Skill: Shadow Veil (Level 1)] Cost: 5 Shadow Pool per minute. Effect: Blend into the environment. Detection chance reduced by 70% in low-light areas.
Kaelen didn’t just walk; he drifted. He found a gap in the fence and pushed a ripple of darkness into the gap. The metal didn’t creak; the shadows dampened the vibration. Inside, the hub was a cacophony of shouting, the clinking of bottles, and the hum of illegal mana-generators.
He saw Jax and Silas near a burn barrel, looking jumpy. They were telling a group of other thugs about the “demon” in the ruins.
“I’m telling you, his eyes were purple fire!” Jax hissed. “He didn’t even move his hands, and the floor tried to eat me!”
A tall man with a cybernetic arm and a heavy trench coat stepped into the light of the barrel. This was Vane. He was a “Body-Refiner” of the first rank—someone who had used low-grade mana to harden his muscles and bones. In the Soot-Sinks, that made him a god.
“You’re losing your mind, Jax,” Vane rumbled, his voice like grinding stones. “Thorne is a rat. A lucky rat, maybe, but a rat nonetheless. If he found an Essence, it belongs to the Iron-Grip. I’ll peel it out of his chest myself.”
Kaelen, watching from the rafters above, felt a surge of cold fury. Peel it out? The shadows around him began to writhe, responding to his emotion.
He checked his Shadow Pool: 85/100. He didn’t have enough energy for a prolonged fight against a dozen men. He needed to isolate Vane. He reached into his Shadow Space and pulled out a heavy iron bolt he’d scavenged earlier. He tossed it toward the far side of the hub.
Clang.
“Who’s there?!” Vane barked, his cybernetic arm whirring as he drew a jagged machete. “Silas, take two men and check the south vents. Jax, stay here and try not to wet yourself.”
As the group split, Kaelen smiled. It was a sharp, predatory expression he didn’t recognize as his own. He dropped from the rafters, not making a sound as he landed in the deep shadow cast by a massive turbine.
Vane was alone for a moment, looking toward the south vents. Kaelen stepped out of the darkness directly behind him.
“Looking for me, Lieutenant?”
