In the evening, when Talon was walking towards his room, the hallways seemed endless, almost like the emotional landscape they bore within. In this battle air, there was still tension about, but in odd quiet, everything seemed masked. Other students hushed together. Their eyes kept flicking with a nervous expression towards Talon. Fear. He knew that feeling. One he'd so carefully cultivated and nurtured.

But something was amiss.

Talon stepped with purpose toward the university building's exit. Every step and gesture spoke of power and strength, reminding him of dominance over this world. However, in the pit of his stomach, there remained a nagging irritation. A shift in the atmosphere seemed to set him on edge. It wasn't some usual fear that his presence induced; no, something was far more different. Someone—or perhaps something—was watching him.

It was then that the outstretched shadows began their heavy going through the court loaded with an invisible weight when the sunset started its gentle creep beyond the horizon. Talon stopped, and his sharp eyes swept the perimeter as if looking for the cause of this feeling. So the shadows seemed to lead lives of themselves as they watched him, moving in a way that no shadows ever did. Yet still, no one was there—no one in his line of vision.

And unbeatable was the presence.

He moved forward, his mind strung tight with its sharp edge and concentration, but every nerve was yelling at him to be ready. Something was coming. He felt that. What or whom?

As he walked across the last few yards to university gates, a soft voice cut through the quiet. It was a whisper, barely audible yet cold even so.

"Talon Revas."

He froze, a jarring stillness falling like stone inside him. The voice was unrecognizable and yet disturbingly familiar, as if coming from a person who'd seen him for an eternity. A person who knew secrets that shouldn't be. His muscles went tight inside him, and he steeled himself not to turn around. Not yet.

"Who the hell are you?" His voice was low, but the edge was there. Always was.

Silence closed in around him, broken only by the faint echo of footsteps behind-light, nearly undetectable, like some predator stalking its prey silently. Talon slowly narrowed his eyes and began twisting himself around, scanning through the shadows. He didn't see anyone, though.

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And then, without warning, a figure emerged from out of the courtyard darkness. He was black from head to toe, his face still in shadows, and there was just something disturbing—maybe even for a Talon. This was no ordinary student; this was no ordinary opponent. Something else entirely.

But they moved on, fluid step, almost too fluid, as though they were gliding on the earth itself. They made a rippled motion and flashed by something metallic slung over their hip edge, some small reflection from the falling sun. blade? Sword?

Talon's mind went dizzy with possibilities running through his head in the worst-case scenarios. Whoever this was hadn't appeared here by chance. They had waited for him.

"You think you have defeated the shadows, Talon," the stranger had said, their voice vibrating low and steady with heavy malevolence. "But you haven't even grazed the shadow of what true power is."

Talon’s heart rate remained steady, yet a cold fury simmered behind his darkening eyes. "You don’t know shit about power," he growled, stepping forward, his posture brimming with readiness for whatever might come. "I’ve taken down everyone who thought they could challenge me. You’ll be no different."

The figure laughed at the sound, which sent shivers down the spine of anyone who heard it. "Oh, I am not coming to challenge you. I have come to give you something. Something. more."

Talon stopped, narrowed eyes. "What is wrong with you?"

And at last they spoke up, raking their fingers into the folds of cloak and producing from them a small, intricately carved, pulsing thing, glowing faintly. In such dim light as this, it seemed alive, so that Talon's eyes went towards it; he found himself curious but did not let down his guard.

"This is just the beginning, Talon," the figure whispered, their voice an almost hypnotic quality. "Everything you think you know, everything you've built here. All of that pales in comparison to what awaits you. Beyond this world. Beyond this time."

Talon's mind spun with the meaning. Beyond this world? Beyond this time? Folly. Was it? Yet, and ill it seemed, in the darkest recesses of his thoughts he could not help but feel maybe it wasn't an idle boast. For here, too, lurked something solid. Something. perilous.

The figure tilted their heads, as if attempting to decipher his very thoughts. "You’ve already felt it, haven’t you? The pull of something greater. The shadows are calling you, Talon. Soon, you’ll have no choice but to answer." And with that, it faded slowly into darkness, becoming just one among many more indistinct shadows. Talon stretched forward, fists knotted, ready to strike but the shape nowhere to be seen—had simply dissolved into nothingness at all, leaving only the faintest hum on the wind.

"Time's running through our fingers, Talon."

Once more, the courtyard was empty, but the feeling persisted—that heavy sensation, that lead of something lurking just at the edge of darkness. Talon stood there, staring out into the black. His mind was a storm; who was that in the world? What do they want? And perhaps above all, how in the world did they know that?

But as the last light faded out with darkness to cover everything, the sense that he must have surely known was coming washed over Talon. Something was coming, and for the first time in a very long time, he felt as though he was not ready for what was coming his way. His fists were clenched, thick, heavy darkness closing in upon him, yet clear was one thing: he wasn't going to back down no matter what came his way. Now or ever. "Let them come, shivered Talon, gritting his teeth. "I will crush them all," he growled low.". With this, he turned and disappeared into the darkness, shadows swallowing him whole as the mystery deepened and left one singular question to those who dared pursue his tale. What happens then?