The following week, the air inside the Citadel carried an unspoken tension.
Word had spread through the halls — not as rumor, but as fact whispered between officers, instructors, and aides. A new intake was being considered for the Shadow Guard Candidate Corps, a program so secret that most of the Crownsguard only knew it by rumor.
Sirius Blake didn't need anyone to tell him.
He felt it.
The sudden hush when he walked past the senior halls. The way Cor's tone had shifted — sharper, deliberate, as though every word carried double meaning. Even the way Zangan had started watching him during sparring, expression unreadable.
Something was changing.
---
By midday, he was summoned.
The message came in the form of a simple black data card, stamped with the insignia of the Crownsguard and an unmarked crest — a stylized fang wrapped in flame.
He knew that symbol. Everyone who'd ever whispered about the Shadow Guard knew it.
When he arrived at the Citadel's lower levels, Kael and Rhea were already there — standing side by side before Cor and Zangan in the restricted briefing chamber. The walls were lined with etched wards, the air heavy with magitek interference to prevent recording.
Kael glanced at him. "Guess we're all in trouble."
Rhea smirked. "Or promoted."
Sirius stayed silent, stepping into line beside them.
Cor's gaze swept over the three like a blade. "You've all reached the limit of what this level of training can offer. The next step isn't about skill — it's about will."
Zangan leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "What the Commander means is, you've survived long enough to be interesting."
Cor ignored him. "You've been selected for evaluation. The Candidate Corps."
Rhea's smirk vanished. Kael's jaw tightened.
Sirius simply bowed his head slightly. "Understood."
"You don't understand," Cor said flatly. "Not yet."
---
He paced before them, voice even.
"The Candidate Corps isn't a promotion. It's a threshold. Once you cross it, there's no going back to being ordinary soldiers. You'll operate in shadows — unseen, unrecorded, unremembered. You'll bleed for the kingdom, and most will never know your names."
Kael frowned. "That's not new."
"It's permanent," Cor said. "Once you're a Shadow, you don't return to the light. You don't retire, you disappear."
Rhea's voice was quiet. "You mean death?"
Cor met her eyes. "If you're lucky."
Zangan exhaled softly. "He's not exaggerating. The Shadows don't get statues or funerals. They get missions — and sometimes those missions never end."
The silence that followed was thick enough to drown in.
Cor continued. "You'll train in small units, each built to function autonomously. Trust is the only law. Break it, and the Guard breaks with you."
He turned his gaze to Sirius. "You've already proven the strength. But strength without restraint is a liability. The Candidate Corps doesn't need monsters. It needs men who can stand beside death and not become it."
Sirius held his gaze. "I understand."
Cor's eyes narrowed slightly, searching for hesitation — and finding none. "Then you'll begin orientation tomorrow."
---
When they were dismissed, the three walked out in silence, the echo of boots against metal filling the hall.
It was Rhea who broke the quiet first. "So that's it, then. We're becoming ghosts."
Kael snorted. "We already were."
Rhea rolled her eyes. "You sound like you're proud of that."
He shrugged. "Pride's all we've got left."
Sirius said nothing. His mind was still turning over Cor's words — not the warning, but the tone beneath them. The faint weight of concern hidden under discipline.
"Hey," Rhea said suddenly, nudging him. "You alright?"
He blinked. "Yeah."
"You look like you're already halfway to the afterlife."
He gave a small smile. "Just thinking."
Kael grinned. "That's never a good sign."
Sirius looked at both of them — their bickering, their laughter, their resilience — and realized something quiet and certain.
He didn't feel alone anymore.
---
The next day began with ceremony — if it could be called that.
No fanfare. No applause. Just a cold, dim chamber deep beneath the Citadel, its floor etched with the runes of the Old Kings.
Cor stood at the head of the formation. Behind him, a small group of high-ranking officers — each wearing the black insignia of the Shadow Guard.
"Step forward," Cor commanded.
Sirius, Kael, and Rhea obeyed.
The oldest officer — a scarred man with one eye and a quiet authority that filled the room — held out three small, obsidian badges. Each was carved with the same emblem: a wolf's fang, surrounded by a circle of flame.
"You stand where others have fallen," the man said. "You train for those who never will again. From this moment, your strength belongs not to glory, but to silence. The kingdom will never thank you. The world will never remember you. But Lucis will endure because of you."
He handed the badges to them one by one. "Welcome, Candidates."
The badges were cold in their palms — heavier than they looked.
Cor's gaze lingered on Sirius as he stepped back. "From this point on, you answer to no one but command — and each other."
Sirius bowed his head. "Understood."
Rhea smiled faintly. "So… we made it?"
Kael chuckled. "To the beginning."
Cor's lips curved in the ghost of a smirk. "You'll wish it was the end soon enough."
Zangan clapped once, grinning. "Congratulations, kids. You're officially ghosts-in-training."
---
After the ceremony, the three stood alone in the corridor. The lights flickered softly overhead, the hum of magitek distant beneath their feet.
Kael twirled the badge between his fingers. "You think these are supposed to make us proud?"
Rhea looked at hers. "Or make sure we never forget what we've signed up for."
Sirius pocketed his badge, voice quiet. "Both."
Kael raised an eyebrow. "You're awfully calm about all this."
"I've been walking toward this since the start," Sirius said.
Rhea smirked. "Of course you have. Always three steps ahead of the rest of us."
He smiled faintly. "Not ahead. Just… aware."
Kael rolled his eyes. "That's such a Cor thing to say."
---
When Sirius got home that night, Dominic and Lyla were waiting.
"You were gone all day," Dominic said. "Cor keeping you busy?"
Sirius hesitated. "Something like that."
Lyla studied his face, the faint tension in his shoulders, the new quiet weight in his eyes. "They made it official, didn't they?"
He looked at her, surprised. "You knew?"
"I know Cor," she said softly. "And I know you."
Dominic leaned forward. "Shadow Guard Candidate Corps?"
Sirius nodded.
Lyla's smile was bittersweet. "I should be proud."
"You are," Dominic said, though his voice lacked conviction.
She turned to him. "And terrified."
Dominic nodded. "That too."
Sirius looked between them. "I'll be fine."
Dominic met his gaze. "That's what every soldier says before the war starts."
Lyla reached out, taking Sirius' hand. "Just promise us — no matter what they teach you, no matter how deep the shadows go — don't let them swallow you whole."
Sirius squeezed her hand gently. "I won't."
---
Later, alone in his room, he placed the badge on his desk beside his notebook.
The black fang gleamed faintly under the lamplight.
Beside it, the final page of his notes read only three words:
Protect unseen. Endure.
He ran a finger over the badge, the edges sharp and cold, then whispered:
"I'll walk the shadows. But I won't forget the light."
Outside, thunder rumbled softly beyond the barrier — distant, but drawing closer.