The morning had started quietly. Brian sipped his coffee on the balcony, the city sprawling below him, rain-slicked streets sparkling under the early sun. Aurora was humming somewhere inside, preparing breakfast, and Kira had already gone for her routine patrol. Everything seemed… normal. Too normal.
Brian shrugged off the feeling and scanned the skyline. Shadow powers tingled faintly in his fingertips, a reflex more than necessity. Nothing was wrong. Nothing should be wrong.
And yet, when his eyes flicked to an alleyway two blocks over, he caught a glimpse of movement too smooth to be human. A shadow detached itself from the wall, pooling like liquid and reforming into a humanoid shape. Crimson glints traced the edges, as if the darkness itself were bleeding.
"Hello?" Brian called, stepping closer, instincts alert. The figure didn't respond. Instead, it shifted, almost imperceptibly, and vanished into the shadows.
A chill ran down his spine. Something about the motion felt deliberate, practiced. Not random.
He clenched his fists. "Kira!" he shouted.
Within seconds, she appeared, sliding effortlessly beside him. "What is it?"
"That… thing. It just disappeared, but it was there. Shadows… red edges. Very wrong."
Kira narrowed her eyes, scanning the street. "Red shadows, huh? Not your usual street thugs."
Brian's shadow energy surged slightly, brushing against the air. "It's like it's… testing us."
Before either could react further, the streetlights flickered, and a soft, almost inaudible whisper threaded through the air. Brian's instincts screamed at him: watch, wait, and be ready.
Then, like the opening of a curtain, the alleyways erupted. Figures stepped out from every dark corner, cloaked in crimson shadows, movements fluid and unnerving. The first wave of Crimson Wraiths had arrived.
"Get ready," Brian muttered, fists igniting with shadow energy. "They're not human. Watch their shadows — don't underestimate them."
The Wraiths struck in perfect synchronization. Brian dodged the first, the shadow trailing across the pavement like a scarlet ribbon. Kira was already moving, blades flashing as she deflected another attack.
"Brian!" she shouted. "They… adapt! Every move we make, they're faster!"
Aurora appeared at Brian's side, aura flaring softly. "We can do this. Together."
As the squad fought, the Wraiths' attacks grew eerily predictable yet impossible to anticipate. Every dodge was countered, every strike avoided — as if the enemy knew their thoughts before they acted.
Brian's mind raced. This isn't random. Someone's guiding them.
A subtle pulse ran through the shadows — not enough for the System to detect, barely perceptible to his powers. But it was there: a thread connecting all the Wraiths, pulling them like marionettes on invisible strings.
Brian gritted his teeth. "I don't know who's behind this… but it's big. Really big."
The Crimson Wraiths recoiled for a fraction of a second, almost like a command had been sent, before regrouping and pressing the attack harder. Brian realized the leader wasn't here — at least not physically — but orchestrating every move.
"Kira! Aurora! Keep pushing them back!" he shouted. Shadows flared around his fists as he charged forward, striking Wraith after Wraith, each impact sending a ripple through the crimson tendrils.
One Wraith lunged from above, only for Brian to vanish into shadows, reappearing behind it. With a swift, precise strike, he sent it crashing into a lamppost. The others hesitated for a heartbeat — enough for Brian to scan the street for patterns.
"They're being controlled," he said, voice low. "Every move coordinated. Someone's sending them… testing us."
The Wraiths hissed, shadows writhing unnaturally. They weren't just enemies. They were probes, scouting weaknesses, probing tactics, and learning in real time.
Brian's aura flared, pulsing outward, warning the Wraiths to keep distance. The battle had only just begun, but already it was clear: whoever was behind this was playing a long game. And Brian? He was right in the middle of it.
As the last Wraith of the first wave melted into a puddle of crimson shadows, a faint echo whispered in Brian's mind, almost like a promise and a threat in the same breath:
This is only the beginning.
The streets returned to quiet. Pedestrians passed by, unaware. The city seemed normal. Too normal.
Brian clenched his fists, the lingering pulse of shadows tingling against his skin. "Yeah," he muttered. "Something's… still out there. And it's bigger than we thought."
Unseen above, a dark silhouette watched from the rooftops — the true mastermind, the Obsidian Sovereign. Its presence stretched across dimensions, calculating, testing, waiting. The Crimson Wraiths were merely the first pieces.
And the game had only just begun.