Night had settled over Requiem City.
The streets were thinner now. Neon signs hummed. Windows glowed dimly behind curtains. Adam walked alone, hands in his pockets, steps unhurried.
The air felt heavier than usual.
He noticed it halfway down the block.
Not a sound. Not a presence.
An interruption.
He stopped.
Someone stood ahead of him beneath a flickering streetlight. Tall. Lean. Wrapped in dark clothing that didn't quite reflect the light correctly. The figure's face was visible, yet indistinct, as if the air itself refused to hold its details.
Adam didn't move.
The figure smiled.
"Son of Vyren."
The words landed cleanly. No echo. No threat in the tone.
Adam turned his head slightly. His eyes settled on the stranger.
Silence stretched.
The man stepped closer, boots tapping softly against the pavement.
"So it's true," he continued. "You walk this world pretending to be small."
Adam said nothing.
"My name is Virm," the stranger said. "And you shouldn't be here."
The streetlight above them flickered once.
Then Virm vanished.
The impact came from Adam's side. His body shifted with it, sliding across the pavement before stopping against a parked car. Metal groaned. Glass shattered.
Adam straightened slowly.
Virm was already moving again.
Their clash didn't announce itself.
No sparks. No shockwaves.
Just motion.
Virm struck fast, movements sharp and deliberate. Each blow carried intent, not excess. Adam blocked what he could, redirected the rest. Their bodies passed through each other's space with minimal wasted motion.
To anyone watching, it would have looked wrong. Like the fight was skipping frames.
Adam landed a strike to Virm's torso. Solid. Clean.
Virm didn't react.
He caught Adam's wrist instead, twisting sharply and pulling him forward. A knee drove into Adam's abdomen. Another followed, higher. Adam broke free, stepping back, boots scraping against concrete.
Virm tilted his head.
"Still sealed," he observed calmly. "Interesting."
Adam moved first this time.
His strike connected. Virm's head snapped to the side. For a fraction of a second, the streetlight dimmed.
Virm smiled wider.
They collided again. Faster now. The air around them distorted subtly, bending around their movements. Cracks spread across the pavement beneath their feet.
Adam was pushed back.
Then pinned.
Virm's hand pressed against Adam's chest. Not hard. Precise.
"Stay down," Virm said.
Adam didn't.
He shifted his weight, attempting to break free.
Virm's expression flattened.
In one smooth motion, he drove his hand forward.
There was no explosion. No flash.
Just a sound. Wet. Final.
Virm withdrew his hand.
Adam stood there for a moment.
Then looked down.
There was a hole in his chest.
Clean through.
Blood didn't pour. It simply flowed, steady and dark, soaking into his clothes and dripping onto the pavement below.
Adam staggered back one step.
Then another.
His knees gave out.
He collapsed onto his back, eyes open, staring at the night sky above the city.
Virm watched him quietly.
"Good," he said. "That confirms it."
Adam didn't move.
His breathing slowed. Then stopped.
The street returned to silence.
Virm turned away, already losing definition as he walked.
"Sleep well, heir," his voice lingered faintly. "You won't be sealed much longer."
By the time the streetlight stabilized, Adam Vyren lay motionless on the cold pavement.
Dead.
For now.