Hunt in the House of Shadows

Beneath the grandeur of House Nocturne lay a forgotten network of veins—secret passages and hidden chambers, silent witnesses to a bloodline's dark history.

The secret passage was narrow and steeply descending. The air grew colder and stuffier as Nihil ventured deeper, the only sounds his own ragged breath and the scrape of his worn robe against the stone walls. The darkness here was absolute, but for Nihil's crimson eyes, it was no obstacle. His vision adapted swiftly, rendering the world around him in sharp, monochromatic clarity where every crack in the stone and every drop of water falling from the ceiling was clearly visible.

After several minutes of walking, the passage opened into a small chamber choked with cobwebs and rotting wooden crates. It seemed to be a long-abandoned storage cellar. In one crate, he found a few useful items: an empty leather pouch, several pieces of hard bread that were strangely still edible, and most importantly, a deep black traveling cloak with a large hood.

He donned the cloak immediately. Its deep cowl concealed his stark white hair and shadowed his face, leaving only a faint glint of his red eyes visible. This was his first camouflage. A new identity born of necessity.

As he inspected the room further, he discovered a small diary tucked beneath a crate. Its leather cover was cracked, but the pages inside were still legible. The handwriting was elegant yet slightly trembling. It was the original Nihil's handwriting.

Heze carefully opened the diary. It contained no complaints or emotional outpourings. Instead, it was a record of methodical research. The original Nihil, in his solitude, had tried to understand his curse. He had studied the family's ancient archives, noting every reference to the "Shackles of Nihility" and other ancestors who had borne it.

One of the final entries caught Heze's attention:

> "...Family legend speaks of the 'Raven's Way Out,' an escape route built by the first cursed ancestor. This route is unrecorded on any map. It is said to start from the exile's chapel and end somewhere outside the estate walls, in the city's slums. A path for the family's 'disgraces' to vanish without a trace. I believe the entrance is behind the altar..."

The original Nihil had found the way out but never possessed the strength or reason to use it. Ironically, his death had granted that chance to another soul.

Following the diary's vague clue, Nihil found a small raven symbol carved into the floor in a corner of the room. Pressing it caused another section of the wall to shift aside, revealing a spiral staircase descending further into the gloom.

He didn't hesitate. Every step away from Alban and Valerius was a step towards survival.

In the city beyond the grand walls of the Nocturne estate, in a slum district known as "The Undercroft," life moved to a different rhythm. The air was thick with the smells of charcoal, foreign spices, and poverty. Here, the light of the Solaris Imperium barely reached the narrow alleys, and law was enforced not by Holy Knights, but by local gangs and bounty hunters.

In a dimly lit bar hidden behind a noodle shop, a man was cleaning his silver-tipped arrows. The man, Tarek Mornhall, was the local cell leader of the Umbra Venari, a guild specializing in hunting curses and anomalies. He had a hard face, etched with scars, and his sharp eyes never rested, constantly scanning his surroundings.

A small communication crystal in his pocket vibrated. He retrieved it and pressed it to his ear.

"Mornhall," he answered curtly.

A magically disguised voice, cold and emotionless, spoke from the crystal. "The Silencer. I have work for you."

Tarek straightened slightly. "The Silencer" was the codename for one of the most mysterious and generous clients he had ever served. A high-ranking noble who always paid handsomely for jobs requiring absolute secrecy.

"I'm listening," Tarek said.

"An 'asset' has escaped the client's estate," the voice continued. "Target is young, male, white hair, red eyes. Physically very weak, but possesses an anomalous ability that can disintegrate matter on touch. Do not engage at close range."

Tarek's eyes narrowed. This sounded interesting. Dangerous, but interesting. "What's the objective? Capture or elimination?"

"Priority is live capture. The client wants their asset returned intact. But," the voice paused briefly, "if capture proves too risky or risks drawing unwanted attention... elimination is authorized. Ensure no trace remains."

"Understood," Tarek said. "The fee?"

"Triple the usual. Half upfront, half upon completion."

Tarek almost smiled. Triple. With that kind of pay, he could recruit his entire cell and comb every corner of The Undercroft.

"Consider it done," Tarek said before severing the connection.

He stood up, sheathing his arrows. He gestured to several other members of the Umbra Venari sitting in a corner of the bar.

"We have work," he said, his voice low with anticipation. "A little white-haired ghost is wandering our territory. Let's give him the welcome he deserves."

The hunt within the mansion had ended, but the true hunt in the outside world was just beginning. And this time, the hunters were professionals who knew exactly what they were dealing with.