The First Assassin

Nightfall cloaked the ruins in stillness. The wind whispered through the broken stones, carrying the scent of old moss and dust. Inside the chamber, Yusuf moved with quiet urgency, arranging ancient scrolls on a stone table while Feroz practiced controlling his energy, his palms glowing faintly in the dark.

Mrs. Aliya stood by the doorway, ever watchful. She hadn't slept in over a day, but her eyes were sharp. "They're getting closer," she muttered.

Yusuf nodded. "I know. We don't have much time."

Suddenly, the air shifted.

It was slight—barely noticeable—but Feroz felt it. A sudden chill. A pressure, as if the shadows themselves were holding their breath.

Yusuf straightened. "It's here."

Before anyone could speak, a faint whisper echoed through the hallways beyond the chamber—like a thousand blades scraping stone.

Mrs. Aliya reached for the small dagger on her belt. "He sent the first one."

Feroz looked between them. "The first what?"

Yusuf didn't answer directly. He simply said, "Runes. Circle. Now."

Feroz rushed to the center of the chamber, where old symbols were carved into the stone floor. Yusuf activated them by striking his palm with the tip of a crystal, and the carvings began to glow with soft blue light, encasing Feroz in a protective field.

The room darkened.

From the hall came the sound of slow, steady footsteps.

Then he appeared.

A tall figure cloaked in black stepped into the chamber. His face was hidden beneath a silver mask, etched with serpent-like designs. His eyes glowed crimson. The shadows behind him writhed as if alive.

The assassin didn't speak.

He simply moved.

Faster than Feroz's eyes could follow, the assassin lunged at Mrs. Aliya, his blade a blur. But she was faster than she looked. She twisted out of the way, drawing her dagger and slashing at his side. Sparks flew. Her blade had struck something beneath his cloak—something not human.

Yusuf raised his hand and unleashed a blast of energy. It hit the assassin square in the chest, sending him crashing into the wall—but he stood again as if nothing had happened.

"He's not just a man," Yusuf said. "He's been forged by their darkness. A shadow servant."

Mrs. Aliya narrowed her eyes. "Then we end him fast."

Feroz stood frozen inside the glowing circle. "Let me help!"

Yusuf turned to him. "You are not ready. If you step out of the circle, he'll come for you first."

The assassin roared, a sound like metal grinding against bone. His blade turned black, soaked in living shadow.

Mrs. Aliya and Yusuf moved together, striking from both sides. Their powers collided with the assassin's dark energy, shaking the chamber. Stones cracked. Dust fell from above. Feroz watched in awe—and fear.

A sudden pulse echoed through his chest.

His hands began to glow, unprovoked.

The circle around him flickered.

Something was calling to him.

"No…" Yusuf shouted, realizing what was happening. "Feroz, stay inside—!"

But it was too late.

The assassin turned toward him.

The circle shattered.

In a blink, the assassin stood before him, blade raised—

Feroz raised his hand, and time seemed to stop.

A wave of pure energy exploded from his chest, not wild like before—but focused. Controlled.

The assassin was blasted back, his cloak in tatters. He slammed into the far wall, unmoving.

Silence.

Yusuf and Mrs. Aliya stared, stunned.

Feroz stood in the center of the broken circle, his chest rising and falling. The energy around him slowly faded.

Yusuf stepped forward, kneeling beside the fallen assassin. He pulled off the silver mask—and what lay beneath wasn't a man.

It was a creature of shadow, molded into the shape of a human, its body already beginning to dissolve into black mist.

"They've created monsters now," Yusuf said grimly. "And this was only the first."

Mrs. Aliya placed a hand on Feroz's shoulder. "You saved us."

Feroz looked at his hands. "I didn't mean to."

Yusuf nodded slowly. "And that's what scares them the most."

Outside the ruins, in the distant shadows, others began to move.

The hunt had truly begun.