The hidden loot box system had already changed everything — quietly, irreversibly.
Malcolm had kept the second Maid Contract Token unactivated for almost a week, turning it over in his mind during late-night recitations or while watching the ward sleep from the rooftop. Safiya had proven herself invaluable: scouting tunnels no one else could reach, delivering encrypted messages unseen, silently restocking medical supplies before anyone noticed they were low. She never asked for thanks. She simply existed — efficient, loyal, invisible.
But the second token hummed in his inventory like a question he hadn't answered yet.
One night, after a long day of joint patrols with the new Spire defectors, Malcolm slipped away to the old minaret balcony again. The city glittered below — fewer fires, more lanterns, people moving with tentative hope instead of fear.
He mentally selected Activate Token – Level 2.
The air folded once more.
This time two figures appeared — both women, both dark-skinned like Safiya, both dressed in the same simple, blendable dark tunics and trousers.
First maid — taller, athletic build, short locs pulled into a tight bun, emerald-green eyes that seemed to glow faintly in the dark.
Second maid — smaller, lithe, braided crown of hair, deep violet eyes that carried quiet mischief.
They bowed in perfect unison.
Taller one: "I am Zahra, Master Thorne. Combat specialist. I can shift into large predators — panther, lioness, dire wolf. My forms are built for battle and protection."
Smaller one: "I am Naima. Scout and infiltrator. My transformations are smaller, faster — fox, raven, shadow cat. I excel at reconnaissance and silent takedowns."
Malcolm stared.
Malcolm: "You can… change shape?"
Zahra: "Yes. The Level 2 contract enhances our utility. We retain full intelligence and loyalty in every form. Our animal bodies are stronger, faster, and heal rapidly. We exist to serve — in battle, in stealth, in any capacity you require."
Naima: (soft smile) "And at night… we can keep watch, warm your bed if you wish, or simply sit in silence while you rest. Whatever eases your burdens."
Malcolm exhaled slowly.
Malcolm: "No one can know you exist. Not Margarita. Not the team. Not anyone."
Zahra & Naima (together): "Understood."
He gave them their first orders — simple ones.
Zahra shifted into a sleek black panther — larger than natural, eyes glowing emerald — and padded silently to the roof edge, scanning the city for threats. Naima became a small black fox, curling up beside Malcolm's leg, tail wrapped around his ankle like a living bracelet. Both forms radiated warmth, quiet strength.
Malcolm sat back against the wall, heart pounding.
The Eater purred — not hunger, but approval.
He now had three invisible guardians:
· Safiya — human form, logistics & silent support
· Zahra — predator forms, frontline battle companion
· Naima — small & swift forms, scout & night sentinel
And they were his alone.
The next morning, during a routine patrol in the lower districts, the difference was immediate.
A pack of feral void-touched hounds — leftover echoes from Darius's experiments — ambushed them in a ruined plaza.
Gronk roared, hammer swinging. Margarita's pistols barked. Kira's lightning chained. Elara's arrows flew.
But Malcolm felt something new.
Zahra — unseen by everyone else — materialized as a massive dire wolf beside him, leaping into the pack with bone-crushing force. Claws tore through void-flesh, jaws snapped spines. The hounds never saw her coming.
Naima — a shadow cat — darted between legs, slashing tendons, tripping beasts so the team could finish them.
When the last hound dissolved, Zahra and Naima vanished again — no trace, no blood on their fur, no one the wiser.
Margarita lowered her pistols, breathing hard.
Margarita: "That went faster than usual."
Malcolm: (calm) "Luck."
She gave him a long look — not suspicious, just curious.
Margarita: "You're hiding something."
Malcolm: "I always am."
She stepped closer, hand on his arm.
Margarita: "When you're ready… you'll tell me?"
Malcolm: "When I'm ready."
That night, back on the balcony, Zahra (panther form) curled around his legs like a living furnace. Naima (fox form) nestled in his lap, tail flicking lazily. Safiya sat cross-legged nearby — human again — quietly sharpening a dagger he hadn't asked her to sharpen.
Malcolm rested his head against the wall.
The Eater was silent.
For the first time in years, he felt… guarded. Protected. Not just by power — but by loyalty no one else could see.
He looked down at the sleeping city.
Darius was still out there.
Greater voids waited.
But now Malcolm had shadows of his own — three of them — who would fight, watch, and warm him through every long night.
And no one would ever know.
To be continued...