Whispers in the Dark

Chapter 5: Whispers in the Dark

I didn't stop running until the voices faded into the night.

Each breath burned, my lungs protesting the relentless pace, but I couldn't stop—not yet. Not while I was being hunted. My boots pounded against the shattered stone of the ruins, the landscape stretching before me like the carcass of a forgotten civilization. Crumbled walls jutted out at odd angles, gaping holes where windows once stood, and vines coiled through the remains like nature reclaiming what war had stolen. There was no real shelter, no safety, only empty remnants of something long dead.

Much like me.

My hands were still trembling. I flexed my fingers, trying to ignore the way my skin felt wrong, the way the shadows curled around me even now, restless, hungry. They had answered me before, but not because I commanded them. No, they had surged forward like a beast slipping from its cage, and in that moment, I hadn't controlled them.

They had controlled me.

A mistake like that could get me killed. And worse—it could draw attention.

I clenched my jaw, forcing the thoughts aside. I needed a place to think. A place to breathe. But the ruins stretched endlessly, offering nothing but silence and the distant murmur of wind through broken stone.

And then I heard it.

A low, distant rumble.

Not thunder. Something else.

I slowed, my heart still hammering against my ribs, and pressed myself against the jagged remains of a collapsed structure. The sound wasn't natural—it was rhythmic, pulsing through the air with the distinct weight of battle. Clashes of steel, the crackling roar of unleashed abilities. Someone was fighting.

Carefully, I crept forward, moving through the ruins until I reached the edge of a clearing.

Below, two factions clashed in the dead of night.

Their powers lit up the battlefield in flashes of raw destruction. A warrior clad in obsidian armor swung a massive spear, and the ground beneath his enemies cracked and buckled as if the earth itself obeyed his will. Another fighter, wreathed in electricity, blurred through the ranks like a phantom, striking before vanishing, leaving only the scent of ozone in his wake.

I narrowed my eyes. Iron Maw and Veilborn Order—two rival factions, locked in their endless war for control of this land.

For now, they hadn't noticed me. But if I stayed too long, the crossfire would find me.

I exhaled slowly, thinking.

I needed information. I needed to understand the state of these wars, the shifting alliances, and most importantly—I needed to control my power. The Organization had been watching me. Waiting. If they had eyes on me, then I had to move carefully. If they knew what I was…

No. I couldn't let myself be found. Not yet.

I turned, preparing to slip away into the ruins—

Then the scream cut through the night.

Sharp, raw, full of terror. A warrior from the Iron Maw was yanked into the shadows, his body vanishing as if swallowed by the night itself.

My blood ran cold.

That wasn't me.

I froze, every muscle locking in place. The battlefield erupted into chaos, fighters turning to face the unseen threat. More screams followed, short and strangled, as soldiers disappeared into the dark. The air grew thick, suffocating. And then—

A figure emerged from the abyss.

Cloaked in black, their form barely distinguishable from the shadows that clung to them, they moved with the kind of grace only a predator possessed. Their face was hidden beneath a hood, but their presence was undeniable—an aura of suffocating power, something ancient and terrifying.

I had felt power before. Warriors who could bend elements, shatter stone with their bare hands, summon storms with a single breath. But this… this was different.

This was like looking at something that wasn't human.

My pulse thundered in my ears.

The figure didn't move toward the battlefield. No, they turned their head—slowly, deliberately.

Toward me.

The air left my lungs. I gritted my teeth, willing my own power to obey, but the shadows around me trembled, coiling and uncoiling like a caged animal. No. Stay down. Don't let them sense it.

A whisper carried through the wind, so soft I almost thought I imagined it.

"You're not the only one who walks with the dead."

A chill crawled down my spine.

I took a slow, measured step back. My instincts screamed at me to run, to vanish, to pretend I had never witnessed this. But I knew, deep down, it was too late for that.

They had seen me.

They knew what I was.

And that meant one of two things: they would kill me… or they had been looking for me all along.

I reached for my power. I didn't have control, not fully, but I had to be ready. The moment they moved, I would strike. Fast. Ruthless. No hesitation.

The figure tilted their head slightly, as if amused by the thought.

"Who are you?" I asked, my voice steady despite the tension thrumming in my veins.

The silence stretched.

Then, finally, they spoke again.

"You're not ready to know that yet."

And then—

They vanished.

Not into the ruins. Not into the trees. One moment they were there, and the next, they melted into the shadows, swallowed by the same darkness that had claimed their victims.

I stood frozen, my breath shallow.

For the first time in a long time, I felt something close to fear.

Because whoever they were…

They were leagues ahead of me.

And if I wanted to survive this war, I had to become stronger. Fast.

My fingers curled into fists. My heart was still hammering, my mind spinning with too many questions, but one thing was clear:

I wasn't alone in the dark anymore.

And that meant danger.