The mission briefing came two weeks after their return.
"Remnant cultist activity," Isabella said, displaying a map. "Small cell, maybe twenty individuals, operating in the northern districts. They're not organized enough to be a major threat, but they're causing enough disruption to require handling."
"And you want us because?" Ronan asked.
"Because regular City Guards can't handle shadow magic users," Isabella replied. "And because it's a low-risk mission suitable for Kaelen's first controlled deployment. Observe how he performs under pressure, assess his restraint and judgment."
"I'm being tested," Kaelen observed.
"Every mission is a test until we're confident in your stability," Isabella said without apology. "Standard Shadow Hunter team composition—Kaelen, Lia, Ronan, plus three Guards for support. Engage, neutralize, capture if possible. Avoid casualties on either side if feasible."
"Feasible," Ronan muttered. "Always with the impossible constraints."
"Welcome to modern warfare," Isabella replied. "You're not executioners. You're law enforcement with exceptional capabilities. Act accordingly."
The team assembled an hour later. Three City Guards Kaelen didn't know, all looking nervous about working with the Shadow's Champion. Their discomfort was palpable—fear masked as professional respect.
"Let's be clear," one guard said. Her name was Chen—no relation to the fallen Viktor and Sarah, she'd clarified immediately. "We've heard stories about what you did at the ritual site. About what you've become. We're not comfortable with this assignment."
"Noted," Kaelen said. "I'm not thrilled either. But we have a job."
"Just... stay away from us during combat," another guard said. "We don't want to accidentally get in your way."
Translation: they were terrified he'd lose control and kill them.
"I'll maintain distance," Kaelen agreed.
They moved out, heading toward the northern districts where intelligence placed the cultist cell. The streets transitioned from wealthy central areas to working-class neighborhoods with visible poverty and neglect.
"Cult recruitment targets desperation," Ronan explained quietly. "These areas are perfect—people with nothing to lose, legitimate grievances against the system, willing to believe promises of power and change."
"Marcus's ideology persisting," Kaelen said.
"Exactly. We stopped him, but the conditions that created him remain. Other cells will rise until the underlying problems are addressed."
"Which isn't our job," Lia added. "We just handle symptoms. Someone else worries about causes."
They reached the target location—an abandoned warehouse that apparently served as the cell's meeting place. Kaelen could sense shadow magic from outside, multiple practitioners channeling with varying levels of skill.
"Twenty-two signatures," Lia confirmed. "Mostly low-level. Three moderate threats. Defensible position but not fortress-level security."
"Standard approach," Ronan said. "Guards hold perimeter. We go in, suppress resistance, secure prisoners. Questions?"
"Yeah," Guard Chen said. "What do we do if he—" she gestured at Kaelen "—goes berserk?"
"I won't," Kaelen said.
"But if you do?"
"Then Lia and I stop him," Ronan said calmly. "We've got contingencies. You focus on your job."
The guards didn't look reassured but moved to their positions.
Kaelen, Lia, and Ronan approached the warehouse entrance. No subtlety this time—they were law enforcement conducting a raid, not assassins sneaking in.
"Shadow Hunter operation!" Ronan called out. "You're surrounded! Surrender peacefully and you'll be processed fairly!"
The response was immediate and predictable—shadow magic lashed out from every window and firing position.
"Hostile engagement!" Ronan confirmed. "Suppress and capture!"
They moved in.
Kaelen felt the shift as combat instincts took over. His transformed body moved with perfect efficiency, reading trajectories and threats with inhuman precision. Shadow magic that would have challenged him weeks ago now seemed slow, predictable, easily countered.
He cut through the first defensive line in seconds. Three cultists down, disarmed but alive. Four more engaged, neutralized, restrained with shadow tendrils that manifested directly from his body.
*You're enjoying this*, Soulrender observed.
Was he? Kaelen tried to analyze his emotional state. Found satisfaction in efficient problem-solving, but not genuine enjoyment. More like intellectual appreciation of optimal performance.
"Kaelen, left flank!" Lia called.
He pivoted, intercepting a shadow mage attempting to flee. The mage threw a desperate spell—poorly formed, weak. Kaelen absorbed it without difficulty, then restrained the mage with minimal force.
"Target secured," he reported.
The fight continued around him. Ronan engaged the moderate-threat cultists with professional competence. Lia maintained barriers and provided support. The Guards held the perimeter against fleeing cultists.
Efficient. Controlled. Exactly what Isabella wanted to see.
Fifteen minutes after engagement began, the warehouse was secure. Twenty cultists in custody, two minor injuries on their side, no fatalities either way.
Textbook operation.
"Well done," Ronan said during the aftermath. "Clean, controlled, minimal collateral damage. Exactly what we needed."
But Guard Chen looked at Kaelen with undisguised fear.
"What?" Kaelen asked.
"You moved wrong," she said quietly. "Too fast, too precise. Like a machine. It was..." she struggled for words. "...inhuman."
"I am inhuman," Kaelen pointed out. "That's kind of the issue."
"But you didn't used to move like that. I saw footage from before your transformation. You fought like a person—messy, imperfect, human. Now you're something else."
"Is that a problem?" Kaelen asked. "Mission succeeded. No unnecessary casualties. What does it matter how I move?"
"It matters because people need to trust you," Chen replied. "And right now, watching you fight, all I feel is fear. That's not sustainable."
She wasn't wrong. Kaelen had seen the other guards' reactions—relief that the mission ended quickly, but discomfort with how it had ended. They'd been afraid of him the entire time.
"Noted," Kaelen said. "I'll work on appearing more human."
"That's not what I—" Chen started, then gave up. "Never mind. Mission accomplished. That's what counts."
They transported the prisoners to holding facilities and filed reports. Standard post-operation procedures. But the entire time, Kaelen could feel eyes on him. People watching, evaluating, looking for signs of instability.
It was exhausting pretending to be something he wasn't anymore.
---
The debriefing with Isabella was brief.
"Excellent performance," she said, reviewing reports. "Clean operation, appropriate force levels, good judgment. Exactly what I wanted to see."
"The guards were terrified of me," Kaelen pointed out.
"They were nervous. There's a difference. And their nervousness is their problem, not yours. You performed perfectly." Isabella closed the file. "I'm approving you for future missions. Gradually escalating difficulty, always with oversight, but approval nonetheless. You've proven you can maintain control."
"For now," Kaelen said.
"For now," Isabella agreed. "But now is all that matters. Keep performing like this, and we won't have problems. Slip even slightly, and we revisit your status. Understood?"
"Understood."
Dismissed, Kaelen found Lia waiting outside the office.
"How did it go?" she asked.
"Isabella's happy. I'm approved for future missions. The guards think I'm a monster. Standard day."
"You're not a monster," Lia said automatically.
"Chen watched me move and felt fear," Kaelen replied. "That's kind of the definition of monster—something that provokes instinctive terror despite not technically doing anything wrong."
"Then we work on presentation," Lia said practically. "Train you to move more naturally, display more human body language. It's manageable."
"Is it? Or am I just going to get better at pretending while getting worse at actually being human?"
Lia didn't have an answer for that.
They walked back toward their quarters in silence. The palace corridors were busy with evening activity—servants, nobles, guards going about their business. Most gave Kaelen a wide berth, not hostile but cautious.
He was the weapon that had saved them.
But he was still a weapon.
"I miss when people just ignored me," Kaelen said quietly.
"You were nobody then," Lia replied. "Now you're important. That comes with attention."
"I liked being nobody."
"Too late for that now. You're the Shadow's Champion, Royal Protector, legendary blade incarnate. You're stuck being somebody."
They reached Lia's quarters first. She paused at her door.
"Are you okay?" she asked. "Actually okay?"
"I don't know," Kaelen admitted. "Mission went well. I performed perfectly. But I didn't feel anything about it—no satisfaction, no stress, no emotional response at all. Just... recognition that objectives were completed."
"That's the transformation," Lia said. "Your emotional baseline is shifting."
"Is that all it is? Or am I losing my humanity and rationalizing it as adaptation?"
"I don't know," Lia said honestly. "But we'll figure it out. Together. Like we agreed."
She kissed him goodnight—brief, habitual, the kind of kiss couples give after years of routine rather than months of connection.
It felt wrong. Not bad, just... empty. Going through motions without substance.
Kaelen returned the kiss, trying to feel something beyond intellectual acknowledgment.
Mostly failing.
"Goodnight," he said.
"Goodnight," Lia replied.
They separated, each to their assigned quarters, the physical distance mirroring the emotional distance that kept growing.
Inside his room, Kaelen sat on the bed and tried to identify what he was feeling.
Found nothing. Just emptiness where emotions should be.
*You're becoming more like me*, Soulrender observed. *Purpose-driven rather than emotion-driven. Is that so terrible?*
*Yes*, Kaelen thought. *Because humans are supposed to feel things. Without emotion, what separates me from a sophisticated tool?*
*Purpose*, Soulrender replied. *Direction. Choice. You still choose your actions, still make moral judgments. That's more than tools do.*
*But for how long?* Kaelen wondered. *How long until I'm just the blade, wearing a person's face?*
Soulrender had no answer.
Kaelen lay down and stared at the ceiling, not tired enough to sleep, not motivated enough to do anything productive.
Just existing in the space between human and weapon.
Wondering which side would win.
Knowing the answer was probably neither—he'd become something entirely new.
Whether that was better or worse remained to be seen.