Shadows in Motion

Riven's breath was ragged as he pushed through the dense forest, his body still aching from the battlefield. His mind was in turmoil, replaying the encounter with the hooded figure and the eerie words that had been whispered to him. "You cannot run from what you are."

What did that mean? And why had the Veilborn taken such interest in him?

He forced the thoughts away as he neared the rendezvous point. His squad had taken shelter in an abandoned outpost, a crumbling structure of stone and rusted metal hidden within the thick foliage. The low-ranking warriors were a ragtag group—misfits, outcasts, and survivors with nowhere else to go. They weren't the best or the strongest, but they were his.

As he approached, a sharp voice cut through the silence. "You're late."

Riven barely had time to react before a blade pressed against his throat. He met the cold gaze of Sienna, their team's scout, her short auburn hair damp with sweat. She was always on edge, always questioning. It was why she was still alive.

"Relax," Kale—a heavily built fighter with arms covered in burn scars—said as he stepped closer. "If he wanted us dead, he wouldn't have walked in so casually."

Sienna hesitated, then pulled her dagger away, though her suspicion didn't fade. "You disappear before the battle ends, and now you come creeping out of the dark?" Her eyes flickered over him. "You smell like blood, but you don't have a scratch. Explain that."

Riven clenched his jaw. He couldn't tell them the truth—that his powers had saved him. That the shadows had shielded him when he should've been cut down like the rest. He was still learning what they could do, but he knew enough to realize they were unpredictable.

"I got lucky," he lied.

Sienna didn't look convinced, but Kale shrugged. "Luck or not, we need him. We've got orders."

The squad gathered around. Taro, the youngest of them, adjusted the straps on his leather armor. Liza, their strategist, unfolded a worn map on the cracked table. The mission was clear—scout the eastern sector for Veilborn movements. A simple task, or at least, it should have been.

"Stay quiet, stay alert," Liza warned as they set off. "If we run into trouble, we retreat."

They moved under the cover of night, weaving through the trees like shadows themselves. Riven kept his senses sharp, but something felt… off. The air was too still. The forest was too silent.

Then they found the bodies.

The aftermath of a slaughter lay before them. Dozens of corpses, all Iron Maw soldiers. Their skin was withered, their eyes hollow, as if something had drained them dry. But the worst part was the shadows.

They lingered, stretching unnaturally over the corpses. Even with no moonlight, the darkness clung to the fallen warriors, shifting as if alive.

Taro gagged. "What the hell did this?"

Liza crouched beside one of the bodies. "This isn't normal. The Veilborn kill, but they don't… consume."

Then, a wheezing sound. A survivor.

Then, a wheezing sound. A survivor.

A man—barely clinging to life—grabbed Riven's wrist with trembling fingers. His lips moved, forming words that sent ice through Riven's veins.

"Shadowborn… heir…"

The soldier's breath hitched, and then he was gone. His grip loosened, his body growing still. The unnatural shadows flickered—and then faded completely.

Silence followed, heavy and suffocating.

Kale broke it. "What does that mean?"

Nobody answered. Riven's heartbeat thundered in his ears. The term Shadowborn was unfamiliar, but the weight behind it was undeniable. And the way the dying soldier had looked at him…

Nobody answered. Riven's heartbeat thundered in his ears. The term Shadowborn was unfamiliar, but the weight behind it was undeniable. And the way the dying soldier had looked at him…

Sienna took a step back. "You saw that, right? Those shadows—"

"We need to move," Riven said sharply, cutting her off. He didn't want to talk about it. Not here.

But the squad wasn't blind. They exchanged glances, suspicion flickering in their eyes. He wasn't just a nameless soldier to them anymore. He was something else.

And then, before they could process it, the ambush came.

A hail of arrows rained down. Sienna screamed, diving behind cover. Taro barely dodged a spear that embedded itself in the dirt where he'd stood seconds ago. The enemy was everywhere, emerging from the trees like wraiths.

Veilborn assassins.

Riven ducked behind a fallen log as chaos erupted. Steel clashed. The scent of blood filled the air. His squad fought desperately, but they were outnumbered and outmatched.

A blade came for him, fast and precise. He barely dodged, rolling to the side as his attacker—a masked Veilborn warrior—pressed forward. Riven raised his own sword, parrying blow after blow, but he could feel it. He was too slow. Too weak.

And then his shadow moved.

Without his command, it rose like a living thing. It lashed out, wrapping around the assassin's ankle. The warrior faltered for just a moment—just long enough for Riven to drive his sword into their chest.

The Veilborn choked on their own blood, eyes wide with shock, before slumping to the ground. The shadow released them, retreating as if it had never acted at all.

Riven staggered back, his breath shaky. His squad had seen it. There was no hiding it now.

Taro stared at him, wide-eyed. "What was that?"

More enemies closed in. There was no time to answer.

Kale roared, swinging his greatsword in a wide arc, forcing back the assassins. Liza and Sienna moved together, cutting down enemies with practiced efficiency. But it wasn't enough. There were too many.

Riven's grip tightened on his blade. His squad was going to die. He could hide his power… or he could use it.

The choice was made for him when a Veilborn warrior lunged at Taro from behind.

Riven didn't think. He let go of restraint.

The shadows exploded from beneath him, surging forward like a beast unleashed. They coiled around his enemies, dragging them into darkness. The assassins screamed as they were consumed, their bodies vanishing into the abyss.

When it was over, the clearing was silent. The only ones left standing were Riven and his squad.

They stared at him in shock.

Sienna's dagger was half-raised, as if she wasn't sure whether to thank him or attack him. Kale exhaled, gripping his weapon tighter. Liza's analytical eyes studied him like he was a puzzle she couldn't solve.

Taro was the first to speak. "…What the hell are you?"

Riven didn't have an answer.

But far beyond the battlefield, in the depths of the night, the Organization had been watching.

And the Veilborn? They had felt it.

The Shadowborn had awakened.