Before either of them could elaborate, a soft, almost melodic knock sounded on the steel door. It was too gentle for a Null, yet utterly unexpected. Both Darian and Isara stiffened, exchanging a look of intense suspicion.
"Who is it?" Darian called out, his voice sharp with caution.
"Just a friend," a sweet, almost childlike voice replied from the other side. "One who wouldn't mind lending a hand to the Myth Guild's future leaders."
Darian's hand went to his own weapon as Isara moved silently to a flanking position near the door. "We don't know any friends who sound like they're out on a Sunday stroll in this neighbourhood," Darian countered, his tone hardening.
A sigh, perfectly audible, came through the metal. "Oh, really? Not even one who helped you avoid an embarrassing, albeit minor, incident back in college when a poorly judged climbing attempt nearly introduced you to the wrong end of a very large dog? It was an Irish Wolfhound, Darian. You really should pay attention to breeds."
Darian froze. The memory was deeply buried, a minor humiliation involving a shortcut, a fence, and a surprisingly aggressive purebred. Only one person had been there, a fleeting vision of white hair and bright eyes who had simply laughed and casually distracted the beast with a tossed piece of jerky. He'd never even caught her name.
He slowly moved to unbolt the door, casting a warning glance at Isara, who remained poised and ready. He pulled the door open just enough to confirm his suspicions, and then found himself staring into a pair of impossibly blue eyes framed by long, immaculate white hair that truly did seem to cascade like a waterfall.
Standing before them was a young woman of breathtaking beauty, dressed in combat gear that somehow still looked elegant. On the back of her hand, Darian noticed a faint, ornate marking resembling a winged shoe. She wasn't alone; behind her stood three tall men, dressed impeccably in stark white combat uniforms, their expressions unreadable and stern, giving them the air of professional bodyguards.
The girl offered a dazzling, yet oddly innocent, smile. "Took you long enough. The air out here is dreadful." She pushed the door open the rest of the way and stepped inside, the professionalism of her bodyguards a stark contrast to the easy, almost carefree air she exuded.
"My name is Lisa Swiftblade, of the Swiftblade Family," she announced, extending a hand to Darian with perfect poise.
Darian hesitated, his scepticism flaring. Isara, sensing his uncertainty, stepped forward, her hand still near her dagger. "Swiftblade Family? Never heard of you. And how do you know Darian, and about that dog?"
Lisa's smile didn't falter; she simply retracted her hand and focused her attention on Isara, her blue eyes sharp. "Isara Vesper, the Myth Guild's tactical mind. A pleasure. As for how I know Darian, I already explained: college. As for the Swiftblade Family… well, we're the kind of family you wouldn't have heard of until very, very recently. We prefer our secrets to be kept like an heirloom. Which, incidentally, brings me to why I'm here."
She looked between the two of them, her expression finally turning serious, shedding the veneer of light-hearted charm.
"You two are running headfirst into a pit of vipers, and you don't even realise you've stepped onto their lawn yet." She motioned to one of her white-clad guards, who silently produced a small, leather-bound book and a stylus.
"The truth is, the current situation, the apocalypse, the system, the constellations, it wasn't a complete surprise to everyone," Lisa began, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "There is a small, interconnected group of families all over the world, known simply as the Aristocratic Families. We are old, established, and we have access to certain… unique resources. Specifically, small but sufficient amounts of Cosmic Energy."
Darian and Isara exchanged an astonished glance. Cosmic Energy? The very fuel of the constellations?
"That energy was enough for us to contract our constellations before the system went live and gave everyone the grace period," Lisa continued, pacing the small room. "We had advanced warning, a head start, and the means to be ready. Did we share this knowledge with the world? Absolutely not. Our plan, the collective plan, was to ride out the initial collapse, then emerge from the ruins and rule the newly reset world from the top of the food chain."
She stopped and offered a sarcastic little curtsy. "Enter the Myth Guild. Your sudden and very public rise, your focus on helping the common survivors, and your undeniable rapid growth have completely disrupted the Aristocrats' neat little schedule. Zayden, Darian, and your fledgling guild are an existential threat to the new world order they were planning."
Isara's eyes narrowed. "So, you're saying there's a cabal of super-powered families who want to be global dictators, and they view the Myth Guild as competition?"
"Precisely," Lisa confirmed. "And it's much worse than you think. In the United States alone, there are seventeen of these Aristocratic Families. And as luck would have it, five of them are currently based in this very city, the same city where the Myth Guild is putting down roots."
Lisa shook her head, a flicker of genuine concern crossing her beautiful face. "There is no way—absolutely none—that the Aristocratic Families will ever allow the Myth Guild to survive. They are already reacting. Some are biding their time, watching how strong you grow, waiting for a fatal mistake. But one family, the most aggressive and arguably the most dangerous, has already made its move. Not just one, but two."
She leaned in, her voice dropping again, forcing Darian and Isara to listen intently. "I'm talking about the Corpseheart Family."
"The name alone is disturbing," Darian murmured.
"Their constellation is worse," Lisa confirmed, her eyes gleaming with hard fact. "They all contracted a Constellation that gives them the ability to control previously living things with consciousness. And yes, Darian, that absolutely includes Nulls. The ones you just fought? They weren't random. They were being coordinated, directed."
"Directed?" Isara felt a wave of cold dread. A directed Null attack was infinitely more terrifying than a chaotic horde.
"Their first move is simple, yet devastating," Lisa explained. "After the period of grace granted by the system, when the Myth Guild will be fully vulnerable, the Corpseheart family will launch a full-scale assault. But to guarantee your demise, they are currently executing their long game: filling up the surrounding areas with controlled Nulls. This isn't just to harass you; it's to stop the Myth Faction from expanding, to choke you off from resources and new members, forcing you to fight a defensive war with no hope of breaking out. Which is why the Nulls in the surrounding areas are more numerous than usual."
Darian ran a hand through his hair, the weight of this information pressing down on him. A direct enemy with a tactical advantage, one who could weaponise the very monsters they were fighting.
"And the second move?" Darian asked, his voice tight.
Lisa frowned slightly. "We haven't figured that out yet. It's either very subtle, or they're keeping the details locked down tightly. But we are sure it will be just as catastrophic as the first. The Corpseheart family plays for total annihilation."
The silence that followed was heavy with the implication of imminent doom. Darian and Isara looked at each other, the fear of the unknown replaced by the grim clarity of a defined, powerful enemy.
"I am here on a mission from my own family, the Swiftblades, to 'help out' the Myth Faction," Lisa finally concluded, her voice returning to its casual, almost flippant tone. She dismissed her guard, and he placed the book back inside his coat. "But honestly, I think it's a useless venture. There's no way the Myth is surviving this onslaught, not with five powerful Aristocratic Families breathing down your neck, and one of them already planning a massacre."
She stepped closer to Darian, her blue eyes shining with a strange mix of desire and calculated pragmatism. "So, I've decided to cut my losses and do something for my own benefit. I'm recruiting. You two are powerful, you're clever, and frankly, Darian, you're exactly my type. Join the Swiftblade Family. We'll protect you, elevate you, and we'll survive this together. Forget the Myth Faction."
The offer hung in the air, a tempting, albeit traitorous, proposition of safety and power.
Darian didn't waste a second. "No."
Isara was just as immediate. "Absolutely not."
Lisa wasn't surprised. Her lips curled into a half-smile, a slight narrowing of her eyes indicating she hadn't truly expected a different answer. "Pity. Such loyalty will be the death of you both. Well, if you won't join me, you'll join me anyway. I still have a mission to complete, and I need capable people. Come with me. You can think of it as a trial run for your eventual downfall."
She gestured toward the door. "My mission is to scout a supply line the Corpseheart family is using to move their controlled Nulls out of the city. If we can disrupt it, it might buy the Myth Guild a few precious weeks."
Darian looked at Isara, and in her determined nod, he saw the same resolve mirrored in his own heart. They would not abandon the Myth, but they could not ignore this threat.
"We'll go," Darian agreed. "But we need to ensure the survivors are safe first."
Lisa shrugged, already walking back toward the door. "Fine. Your 'shadow guards', the ones you're hiding in the back room, can escort the civilian baggage back to your base. We, however, have to move quickly."
Within minutes, Darian and Isara had briefed the two Shadow Guards tasked with protecting the survivors. With grim faces and a pact to return to the Myth Guild as soon as their mission was complete, they watched as the guards silently led the group out the back entrance.
Then, Darian and Isara turned and followed Lisa Swiftblade and her three imposing guards out onto the rooftop.