Morning didn't bring peace to Blackridge.
It brought fear.
News spread like wildfire through the streets, bars, and back alleys:
"Tyland Voss is back."
People whispered it in fear. Others denied it. Some prayed it wasn't true.
But by noon
No one was doubting anymore.
Because they found the body.
It hung beneath the old iron bridge, swaying slightly in the morning breeze. Traffic had stopped. Crowds gathered at a distance, murmuring, pointing afraid to get too close.
Police sirens wailed, but even the officers kept their distance.
They knew better.
This wasn't their world.
This was a message.
The victim's shirt was torn open.
And carved deep into his chest
Was a symbol that made grown men step back in silence:
A crimson crown.
Across the river, high above the chaos, Tyland Voss stood on the rooftop of an abandoned building.
Watching.
Unmoving.
The wind tugged at his coat, but he didn't react. His eyes stayed fixed on the body.
Cold. Calculating.
Behind him, Darius shifted uneasily.
"This… this is bad," Darius muttered. "Real bad."
Tyland didn't respond.
Darius continued, lowering his voice, "Word is already spreading. People think you did this. They think you're sending a message."
Tyland finally spoke.
"Of course they do."
His tone was calm too calm.
Darius frowned. "But we didn't do it."
A slight pause.
"I know," Tyland said.
He turned, his gaze sharp.
"Which means someone wants the city to believe I did."
Darius ran a hand through his hair. "But who would be crazy enough to use your mark? That's basically signing their own death sentence."
Tyland looked back at the bridge.
"Not crazy," he said quietly.
"Confident."
That word hung heavy in the air.
Because confidence like that only came from one thing
Knowledge.
Tyland walked to the edge of the rooftop, staring down at the crowd below.
"They didn't just copy the symbol," he continued. "They copied the placement. The message."
Darius stepped closer. "Message?"
Tyland's eyes darkened.
"Public. Brutal. Unignorable."
His jaw tightened slightly.
"That's how I used to speak."
A beat of silence passed.
Then Darius said carefully, "You think this is someone from before…? From your old circle?"
Tyland didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small silver coin—worn, scratched… old.
He flipped it once, catching it smoothly.
A habit.
A memory.
"Five years ago," Tyland said slowly, "I didn't just disappear."
Darius stayed quiet.
"I was betrayed."
The word hit harder than expected.
"And whoever did it…" Tyland continued, "…knew everything about me."
Darius's expression hardened. "You think they're back?"
Tyland closed his fist around the coin.
"I don't think."
He turned.
Eyes cold.
"I know."
Sirens echoed louder as more police arrived at the bridge.
But then something strange happened.
The crowd began to part.
Not because of the police
But because of fear.
A black SUV pulled up near the scene.
Tinted windows.
No plates.
Darius noticed immediately. "We're not the only ones watching."
Tyland followed his gaze.
The door of the SUV opened slightly
Then closed again.
Whoever was inside didn't step out.
They were observing.
Just like him.
Tyland's lips curved faintly.
"Good," he murmured.
Darius glanced at him. "Good?"
Tyland stepped back from the edge.
"Let them watch."
His voice dropped, dangerous.
"I want them to see me."
Minutes later, Tyland was gone from the rooftop.
But his presence?
Still lingered.
Because somewhere in Blackridge…
Someone had just confirmed something very important:
Tyland Voss was alive.
And he was paying attention.
Later that night…
In a dimly lit room, far from the noise of the city
A figure sat in the shadows.
Calm. Still.
Watching a screen.
On it
The image of the body under the bridge.
And across the chest…
The crimson crown.
A slow smile formed.
"Welcome back, Tyland," the figure whispered.
Their voice was low… familiar.
"You always did love a good message."
The screen flickered.
And just before it went black
Another image appeared.
A name.
ELARA QUINN.
Back across the city, Tyland stood by a window, staring into the darkness.
"Prepare a meeting," he said.
Darius nodded. "With who?"
Tyland didn't hesitate.
"Elara Quinn."
His reflection stared back at him
Cold.
Unforgiving.
Because if there was one person who knew his past well enough…
One person bold enough…
One person dangerous enough…
It was her.