"Upon him I will visit famine and a fire, Till all around him desolation rings. And all the demons in the outer dark, Look on amazed and recognise. That vengeance is the business of a man." - Patrick Rothfuss (The Name of the Wind)

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~April 234, Zalfari~

The rain had stopped only an hour ago, leaving the cobbled streets of Zalfari slick and gleaming in the pale midday light. The sky overhead remained an unbroken slate of grey, clouds pressing low, swollen with the promise of another storm.

Inside the Pandemonium Bar, however, all was still.

Muted light filtered through the half-drawn shutters, casting long streaks across the scuffed wooden floors and the old iron counter that had been polished so many times it seemed to glow in the gloom. The air inside was thick with the faint scent of smoke, liquor, and steel—of lives hardened by survival, loss, and a war no one had declared but everyone felt.

Sera leaned against the booth's backrest, her hood drawn down now, with her jacket unzipped. Her dark hair framed a face drawn tight with thought. Beside her, Zest sat forward, his forearms resting on the table, a half-finished drink forgotten in his hand. The shadows under his eyes were deeper than usual.

Across from them sat Leroy and Alisa—older and changed, but still carrying echoes of the scrappy teens from Blade. Leroy's once-carefree smile had been replaced by a constant furrow in his brow, the weight of Zalfari's survival pressing on his broad shoulders. Alisa had her arms folded, her sharp gaze locked on the television above the bar counter, where a newscaster's voice echoed through the otherwise silent room.

"…There's been another report this morning—this time in the northern reaches of Derath. A family was evicted from their home after neighbours claimed the mother was a sympathiser for the Gifted. The father was arrested hours later for 'impeding an ongoing investigation' and resisting the ESA."

"This comes just days after a teacher in Zanarra lost her job for reportedly speaking out in class against the recent anti-Gifted policies. Public sentiment, fuelled by an increase in violent outbursts and radical protests, continues to turn against anyone who dares voice dissent. Meanwhile, officials from the Hunter Organisation continue to press for harsher regulations, especially in the wake of what they call 'an escalation of underground violence'."

The screen flicked to a grainy photograph of a destroyed building—burned out and collapsing inward.

"This footage was captured at one of the Hunter Organisation's research facilities in the plains of Corsa. Authorities have not yet confirmed the identity of the attacker, but eyewitness reports claim a figure wielding a black blade was seen leaving the scene before it exploded. This marks the third facility destroyed in less than a month. In each case, hunters stationed there were found dead, dispatched with lethal precision. No survivors. No evidence left behind."

Leroy leaned forward and hit the mute button on the remote. The room fell back into a heavy, tense silence. He exhaled through his nose, rubbing his temples. "This is getting out of hand."

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"I'll say," Alisa murmured. She tapped a gloved finger against the wood. "But that attack on the hunter compound… The style. It has Blade's mark all over it." Her gaze flickered to Sera and Zest. "Are we sure it's not one of us?"

"No," Leroy said bluntly, reaching for his drink. It's a little early in the day to be drinking, but at the moment, he needs a stiff drink. He took a long swallow, and winced as it burned its way down. "I trust the people in this room."

Sera scoffed quietly. "I have better things to do than go hunting hunters down one by one."

"And as much as I hate those bastards," Zest added, "I don't go after ones who haven't done anything. Not directly. Not like this." He frowned, his jaw tightening. "But the murders… The weapon used. The precision. The way it's executed…"

"What's on your mind?" Leroy asked, his tone wary.

Zest didn't answer immediately. His eyes scanned each of them, lingering on Sera, before he finally spoke. "You know as well as I do that if it's not us… Then there's only one person it could be."

A silence followed, long and heavy. Even the air seemed to still.

"…Jamie," Alisa said softly.

Zest nodded once. "Jamie."

The name hung there, suspended between memory and suspicion.

Leroy exhaled sharply. "He's still alive, then," he murmured. "I did wonder if perhaps he survived. If there is anyone who can survive the attack, it would be him. And even Lleucu. Jamie's the Left Hand for a reason."

"I always had a feeling," Sera murmured. "Some of the killings over the past few years… It had to be him. But Aegis took the fall for some of them, and honestly? Those victims weren't innocent. We didn't correct the narrative. We needed the fear to keep the worst of the hunters cautious."

Zest leaned back, his arms crossed. "Still. Jamie… He's been helping us. From the shadows. Always one step ahead. The destruction of those facilities, the systematic elimination of some of Nicolosi's most loyal dogs… That's him."

"He's capable of it," Alisa agreed, her voice strangely quiet. "But why now? Why reveal himself after so long?"

"That's what we need to figure out," Sera said. Her voice was low but resolute. "Something's changed."

The moment lingered. Memories of Jamie flickered unbidden—his sharp laugh, the glint in his eyes before a fight, and the absolute confidence that made him both terrifying and reassuring. Jamie, the Hidden Shadow, who had walked through fire and never once looked back.

Zest and Sera exchanged looks. It's been nearly a year since that day at Blackpool—when Albert Nicolosi made that speech, and then, the entire country seems to have systematically lost their minds.

"…What should we do?" Alisa asked, breaking the silence.

Leroy leaned forward, hands clasped between his knees. "Jamie aside… I'm more concerned about the bigger picture. Eldario's gone from simmering to boiling over. The situation's turning into a damn witch hunt." His voice dropped, hard with frustration. "People are being executed in the streets. Gifted children are disappearing. Families are being driven out of their homes. And their supporters—friends, coworkers, and even their neighbours, are either turning on them or vanishing themselves."

He looked at each of them in turn. "And those new recruits the hunters are throwing into the streets? They're monsters. I don't know what Nicolosi's doing, and where the hell he found them, but it's not natural. There were two of them last week who tried to attack Zalfari. Took three squads just to pin them down. It's like they're hopped up on something—too fast, too strong, and even too precise. Not like regular hunters at all."

Zest grimaced. "It's happening everywhere. The Abyss is preparing for full lockdown. Larissa's barely sleeping. I would be surprised if Hayder had gotten more than three hours of sleep a night. Even Alexis is sounding the alarm. Ethan's been running all over. Hell, I got a message last night from Nico's crew—they're pulling back from Trask entirely. It's not safe out there anymore."

"And your crew?" Alisa asked Sera. "Where are they?"

"Resting," Sera replied. "They've earned it. We're getting too many calls for help—Larissa, Alexis, Hayder, Ethan, random survivors, and even black market brokers… It's relentless. Even the bounty hunters from the underground are stretched thin. Most of the other gangs retreated into the Abyss weeks ago. Especially those with Gifted among them." She looked down at her hands, her fingers curling loosely. "…I'm getting worried."

Alisa tilted her head. "You think Jamie's appearance now isn't a coincidence?"

"No," Leroy said grimly. "Sera's right. Knowing Jamie, there's a reason he's stepping out of the shadows now. And if Lleucu is still alive, he'll show himself sooner or later too, considering the situation."

Sera's jaw tightened. Her voice, when it came, was low and firm. "Let me get some proof first before I share my suspicions," she said. "Because if I'm right… Then this is bigger than anything we've ever faced. And I really, really hope I'm wrong about it."

For a long moment, none of them spoke.

The bar remained quiet, save for the faint hum of the muted television and the patter of new rainfall beginning outside.

And somewhere, across Eldario, blood was being spilled.

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