Light filtered through the gaps in a collapsed roof.
A beam of sunlight caressed the ashes on the floor.
The wood creaked, but the air was still.
Ishi slowly opened his eyes.
He was lying on the floor of an abandoned house, somewhere in the slums of Sahel.
No bed. No fire. Just dust, solitude, and his silence.
His fingers brushed the hilt of his sword.
Still there.
He pushed himself up.
Raindrops slammed against the cracked stone.
His gaze was fixed on the void.
— I need… eyes.
He was speaking to himself. Or perhaps to the system. Or perhaps to his own echo.
— To move in this world… I can't act alone. I need information. Movements. Shadows.
He left without a sound, his cloak concealing his figure.
The black market was a constant whisper in the alleys of the Flint Quarter.
A place few named aloud, but that everyone knew.
It was enough to listen. To follow the foul smells and the conversations that fled morality.
That's where he heard the keywords:
— "Big shipment tonight, at the House of Black Chains. Rare goods. Even some of the old assassins from the East."
— "There's a girl, Lysa I think. Not very talkative, but the merchants watch her day and night. Too dangerous, they say."
Ishi stopped.
His eyes lit with a cold gleam.
— This is where it begins.
House of Black Chains.
A discreet building, protected by forgetfulness glyphs and sold-out guards.
Behind the walls, cages. Auctions. Muffled screams.
Ishi entered.
No invitation.
No words.
The first guard raised his hand, opening his mouth.
He didn't have time to speak.
Slice.
A red line crossed his throat.
In three minutes, the floor was covered in blood.
The slavers screamed, prayed, fled.
None survived.
Ishi moved through the corpses.
No sound. Just the scrape of his steps through the crimson pools.
He broke the locks of the cages with a single swing of his blade.
The slaves, dazed, didn't even dare to step out.
But he wasn't looking at all of them.
His black eye, linked to the System, analyzed.
[Assessment in progress…]
— Individual 1: Physical Resistance C. Intelligence D. Loyalty: unstable.
— Individual 2: Minor magic. Excessive fear.
— Individual 3: Former thief. Level 15.
…
Individual 9: Lysa.
He stopped in front of a cell where a young girl was chained, calmly sitting at the back of the cage.
Ash-gray eyes. Dark hair cut by blade.
Perfect stillness.
The system displayed:
Lysa N.
Race: Human (Minor Mutation)
Level: 28
Latent Class: Tactical Spy
Skills: Organic Camouflage, Behavioral Analysis, Hidden Blades, Partial Memory Reading
Mental State: Broken (Repairs possible)
Potential Loyalty: 93%
Compatibility with Ishi Crush: High
Ishi tilted his head slightly.
— Do you know who I am?
She looked him straight in the eyes.
— No. But you're not like them.
— Did they use you?
She barely shrugged.
— I killed for them. Until I became too valuable. Too dangerous. Then they chained me up.
Ishi fixed his gaze on her chains.
— I need a silent mind. Eyes that know how to stay quiet, and a blade that strikes true.
— Will you offer freedom?
— No. I offer you a purpose. A bond. And a cause.
She stayed silent for a moment.
Then she spoke, slowly:
— If you free me… I will be completely devoted to you. No matter what it means.
He extended his hand.
She took it without hesitation.
The chains fell, consumed by a black glow.
System: Pact formed.
Partner assigned: Lysa.
Temporal Command Link established.
Status: Active.
Priority orders: Protection, Infiltration, Gathering.
Ishi smiled softly.
— Then, Lysa...
Get ready. The world will finally learn that I am alive.
And this time, it will be in silence, shadow... and blood.