Maryelle’s POV
The trail is clear—splintered doors, shattered lanterns, streaks of copper residue marking the rogues’ path. Every step feels heavier, every shadow sharper, as if the night itself conspires against us.
“Stay alert,” Phantom commands, his voice low but magnetic. “They want us to follow. They want us blind.”
The captain nods, sword raised. “We’ll cut through whatever they lay before us.”
We press forward, boots crunching glass, and then the world erupts.
From the rooftops, masked rogues drop like carrion birds, blades flashing. Smoke bombs burst, copper clouds rolling thick across the courtyard. Nets whip down, spikes spring from the dirt.
“Ambush!” the captain roars. “Shields up!”
Steel clashes. Guards cry out. The rogues laugh, muffled behind masks.
One circle
