Then across the circle, a masked woman rises.
“Quarterly reports. Eastern Sector. Inventory discrepancies noted.”
A man steps forward, bowing his head slightly. “A rogue cell in Prague. Handled quietly.”
The words are vague but cold.Handled.
Another figure reports on political funding, another on surveillance updates. I catch phrases like ‘extraction team’, ‘coded ledger breach’, and ‘vault breach contained’.
My stomach flips. This isn’t just a secret society. It’s an empire. With rules, reach, and ruthlessness.
I listen and watch. Because if I’m going to survive this world — if I’m going to rule it — I have to know how it works.
The final reports end. One by one, members began to slip back into the shadows.
But Lucian doesn’t dismiss us. Instead, he steps to the center of the chamber, eyes sweeping across the circle, then landing on the six of us still standing near the table.
“The Guild thrives because we remember what it takes to earn your place,” he says. “Legacy may open the door, but blood, skill, and sacrifice are what keep you inside.”
He turns to us — tome— last.
“Now comes your first task.”
Lucian gestures, and a second Guild member — a tall man in a sweeping black coat, face covered by a sleek, hawk-like mask — steps forward, holding a small metal box.
One by one, we are called by last name.
“Ravencourt.”
Jace steps forward and takes his envelope without a word.
“Silvain.”
Luca’s mouth twitches. He bows and saunters back with his task in hand.
Lucian shakes his head.
“Ward.”
Tex steps forward stiffly.
“Vexley.”
Noah scans the envelope like he can see inside.
“Brennan.”
Dakota steps up and takes the envelope.
And then. “Ashthorne.”
My name echoes against the stone. It feels heavier than ever, because there’s meaning now. I step forward. The man holds the envelope out but doesn’t release it right away.
“Good luck,” he says, voice muffled behind his mask.
Lucian meets my eyes. I take it.
After we’re dismissed, after the torches are snuffed — I open the envelope alone in my room.
