The city woke slowly as dawn crept across the skyline, smearing pale gold over the steel towers and neon billboards. But Adrian didn't feel the shift of morning. He hadn't closed his eyes since the assassin vanished into the night.
He sat on the edge of the ruined couch, elbows resting on his knees, gaze fixed on nothing. The card still lay on the table, untouched since he'd first opened it. The sentence etched in silver remained as sharp as a knife:
"To hunt a shadow, you must first step into the light."
A taunt.
A prophecy.
A declaration.
He wasn't sure yet.
The break-in, the ambush, the assassination attempt—these weren't random. Someone in Meridian City had made a decision: Adrian Vale was a threat.
The problem?
He didn't know why.
Not yet.
He leaned back and exhaled slowly. His side still stung from the knife graze. He needed treatment, but there was no time to be fragile. Weakness was a luxury he couldn't afford.
"System," he murmured, "diagnose injuries."
A soft chime responded.
[Injury Report — Light Blade Laceration, Bruising, Muscle Strain]
[Recommended Treatment: Minor Recovery Elixir – Shop Item]
[Price: 15 VP]
He scoffed. "Fifteen villain points for a glorified band-aid?"
[Affirmative.]
"Extortionist."
But he purchased it anyway. Black mist slipped from the interface, forming a small glass vial on the table. Adrian didn't hesitate—he uncorked it, drank, and felt cold warmth spread through his veins. The pain dulled immediately, leaving only a faint echo.
Better.
He stood, stretching. His body was ready. His mind was sharp.
But before he could continue strategizing a knock rattled his door.
Three steady taps.
Calm.
Measured.
Not an assassin.
Not a neighbor.
Adrian's eyes narrowed as he approached the door.
"Who is it?"
A familiar voice answered, soft but firm.
"It's Elena."
He froze.
She was the last person he expected at his door this early.
And the last person he wanted to see his apartment in shambles.
He unlocked the door but kept the chain on, opening it a few inches. Elena stood there dressed for work—fitted coat, hair pinned back, eyes glowing faintly with that sharp perceptiveness she always carried.
"You look like you haven't slept," she murmured, voice tinged with concern.
His heartbeat betrayed him—but only by a fraction.
"And you look like you're here for more than small talk," he said.
Her gaze flicked past him, toward the dim apartment interior.
"Are you going to let me in?"
Not yet.
Not when danger lurked inside everything around him.
Not when she had secrets she wasn't ready to share.
But he moved aside anyway.
Elena stepped in slowly, eyes scanning the room.
Her expression changed.
Softened.
Darkened.
Then tightened with anger.
"Adrian… what happened?"
The glass on the floor.
The ripped cushions.
The blood he tried to scrub away.
The lingering scent of smoke.
She wasn't stupid.
She could piece it together.
He watched her carefully. "Someone paid me a visit."
She turned to him sharply. "And you weren't going to tell anyone?"
"Tell who?" he countered. "The police? They're more blind than the gangs. The city officials? Half of them are involved in this nonsense. Or should I tell you?"
Elena didn't flinch at the challenge, but her voice softened.
"You can tell me."
Something inside him stirred—dangerous, warm, unwanted yet irresistible.
She stepped closer, inspecting the faint bandage on his side.
"Did they hurt you badly?" she asked quietly.
His breath hitched when her fingers brushed the fabric. Even through cloth, her touch was subtle enough to send a shock through him.
"It's nothing," he said, but his voice dropped half a note.
Elena glanced up at him, their faces close enough he could feel her breath.
"That's not nothing," she whispered.
And for a moment—
In the silence between their breaths—
The distance between them thinned.
But something else flickered in her eyes.
Something hidden.
Something she wasn't ready to say.
He stepped back first.
Elena exhaled, then straightened. "Who attacked you?"
"No idea," he lied.
She studied him.
She knew he was lying.
He knew she knew.
But she let it go.
"Adrian… do you trust me?"
He locked eyes with her.
"Trust isn't something I hand out freely."
She looked away, jaw tight, hurt flickering across her face before she masked it.
"I understand," she whispered.
The room felt colder.
Before either could speak again, the System chimed—loud, intrusive, unexpected.
[Proximity Alert: High-Interest Individual Detected]
[Identity: Elena Raevon]
[Risk Level: ???]
[Warning: Emotional proximity increasing]
Elena blinked. "What was that?"
Adrian cursed inwardly.
He pulled the status window away before she could see more, but not before she caught the faint shimmer of a holographic projection.
Her eyes widened.
"Adrian… what was that?"
He froze.
He had never shown the System to anyone.
He never intended to.
Elena took a step toward him, voice trembling slightly.
"Is that… some kind of AI? Or—"
But before she finished, the lights flickered.
Then—
BOOM.
The apartment windows shattered inward.
Adrian grabbed Elena and pulled her down as glass rained across the room. A shockwave shook the walls, forcing them both to the floor.
Smoke.
Fire.
Chaos.
A second explosion echoed down the hallway of the building.
Elena clutched his shirt, terrified.
"Adrian—what's happening?!"
He didn't answer.
He heard footsteps outside his door.
Heavy.
Coordinated.
Armed.
They were coming straight for him.
Not the Crimson Fang.
Not some street gang.
This was organized.
Professional.
Military-grade precision.
Elena trembled.
"Adrian… are they here for you?"
He looked at her.
At her fear.
At her trembling hands.
At the way she clung to him even while unsure of what he truly was.
He made a choice.
He stood up.
His voice darkened.
"They're not leaving this place alive."
Elena's breath caught.
"Adrian… what are you going to do?"
He glanced back at her, eyes colder than ever.
"What villains do."
The System pulsed, answering his intent.
[Villain Mode — Partial Activation]
[Title Unlocked: Urban Nightmare]
[Temporary Buff: Fear Index Manipulation]
Adrian cracked his knuckles.
Someone had dared invade his territory.
Someone had tried to kill him.
Someone had frightened Elena.
That alone sealed their fate.
He approached the door, every step radiating quiet, lethal confidence.
He unlocked it slowly.
The hallway brimmed with smoke.
Shadows.
Guns.
Masks.
The first intruder barely had time to breathe before Adrian snapped his wrist, yanked him forward, and slammed his head into the wall hard enough to crack plaster.
The others raised their rifles—
Adrian smiled.
"You should've knocked."