Someone was in his room.
Draven woke up to the wrongness of it. Not sound. Just... wrong. The air felt different. Colder. Moving wrong.
His eyes snapped open.
*CRASH.*
Window exploded inward. Glass everywhere. *Tinkle tinkle tinkle.* Shards spinning through moonlight like fucked up snowflakes.
Three shapes. Black on black. Already inside. Already moving.
"Oh fuck—"
First one lunged. Dagger leading. Aimed at his throat. Fast. Way too fast for normal.
Draven rolled. *Thump.* Hit the floor hard. Stone cold against his bare chest. Fighting in his fucking pajama pants because apparently assassins don't care about polite scheduling.
*Whoosh.* Blade missed by maybe an inch. He felt the air move. Felt how close that was.
B-Rank. All three. He could feel their mana signatures now that he was awake. Professional. Coordinated. The kind of killers who charged by the corpse not by the hour.
[System]: *WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP*
*ASSASSINS*
*THREE B-RANK*
