The city of Blackthorn stood beneath a choking sky, its black stone towers stretching toward the heavens as if clawing for salvation. Smoke curled from the distant districts, the remnants of a battle fought in the shadows. The streets smelled of damp cobblestone, burning oil, and the faint metallic sting of blood. Four strangers walked separate paths. None of them knew that fate had already begun to weave them together.
Jaxon perched atop a crumbling church steeple, one knee resting against the edge as he watched the streets below. His human body sat in the moonlight, still as stone, while his symbiote body slithered along the rooftop, pulsing and shifting in the darkness. His second self was restless tonight. Below, a trio of mercenaries dragged a struggling boy into a side alley, their voices low and dangerous. Jaxon had seen it before—a slow death, a lesson taught with knives and broken bones. He sighed. One of his bodies had to intervene.
The symbiote dropped first, landing silently behind the mercenaries. Before they could react, black tendrils lashed forward, wrapping around the nearest thug's throat and yanking him backward. The man barely had time to scream. Jaxon smirked. His human body leapt next, landing with a heavy crunch in the alley. The other two mercenaries spun toward him, drawing steel—too slow. The symbiote morphed into a blade. His human self caught it mid-air. One swing. Blood splattered against the cobblestones. The last mercenary turned to run. Jaxon let him go. Some people lived. Some didn't. He wasn't here to play executioner. Somewhere above, a pair of silver eyes watched him from the shadows.
Kade moved through the streets like a ghost, his cloak barely stirring in the cold wind. The Oblivion Chains coiled around his wrists, spectral and pulsing with an unseen hunger. Death followed him. It always did. Ahead, a drunk noble staggered from a gambling den, his voice slurred with arrogance as he shoved a beggar aside. The old man hit the ground hard, gasping. Kade kept walking. The noble drew a dagger, waving it carelessly. "You filth—"
The chains snapped forward. In an instant, they wrapped around the noble's wrist, wrenching the blade away. The man choked, his breath stolen as the chains phased through his flesh, locking onto something deeper. His soul. Kade held him there for a moment, watching the life drain from his eyes. Then he let go. The noble slumped forward, alive—barely. The beggar scrambled away, terrified. He turned—and froze. Perched on a rooftop, Jaxon was watching him, eyes gleaming with interest. Kade's fingers twitched. He didn't like being watched.
Reed pressed his hands against a soldier's broken ribs, his golden Healing Domain flickering around them. The man coughed violently, blood staining his lips. Too much damage. Too much pain. Reed pushed harder. The wound knitted slowly, his energy working to repair torn flesh and shattered bone. The soldier groaned, his breathing evening out. He would live. Reed stood, wiping sweat from his brow. Healing was never free.
Across the street, someone watched him. Elias. The man leaned against a stone archway, flicking a deck of enchanted cards between his fingers. Reed frowned. He didn't like the way Elias was looking at him—like he was a puzzle worth solving. Then the world exploded.
Elias didn't move as the explosion ripped through the street. The force of it sent carriages tumbling, torches snapping, fire bursting into the air. He sighed, flipping a card into the air. It glowed. A spectral barrier formed in front of him, shielding him from the blast just as flaming debris crashed down. His eyes flicked toward the source. A group of figures stepped from the smoke, their faces hidden behind cloth wraps, weapons gleaming in the firelight. Raiders.
Elias grinned. "Guess I'm playing now." A card spun between his fingers. He snapped it forward—And a spectral wolf burst from the air, howling before lunging at the nearest raider. Across the square, Reed gritted his teeth, golden light crackling at his fingertips. He wasn't a fighter. But he wouldn't stand by while people died. Jaxon dropped from a rooftop, his symbiote already shifting into twin sickles. Kade's chains lashed out, catching a raider mid-step.
Four strangers. Four powers. Tonight, their fates would collide. And Blackthorn would burn.