Darkness gathered where no light had ever lived.
Not just the absence of light — But something deeper.
Something that swallowed it whole.
The ground beneath the disciples pulsed faintly, as though the very earth feared what lingered above it. Shadows coiled into towering shapes, stretching and folding into one another like a breathing abyss.
The Dark Minors stood in a half-circle.
Silent....Still....Waiting.
Their forms flickered between flesh and shadow, unstable even in stillness. The wounds from the forest battle had not fully healed — thin streams of black essence still trailed from their bodies like smoke.
None of them dared to move. Because it was there... Not seen nor touched — But felt.
A presence that pressed down on them from every direction at once.
Then — The voice came. Low... Vast..... Uncontained.
"You failed." The words did not echo.
They consumed the air.
Every disciple dropped instantly to one knee, their heads lowered.
"We —" one of them began.
"Silence!"
The force of it shattered the ground beneath them. Cracks spread outward like a web, darkness seeping through every fracture.
"You were given a simple task," the voice continued, colder now. "Retrieve the artifact."
A pause followed.
"And yet you return to me… empty."
The air thickened.
One of the Dark Minors trembled.
"They were… stronger than expected," he managed. "Two of them had already awakened their forms. And the third—"
The presence shifted. A subtle movement.
But enough to send a ripple of fear through every being in the clearing.
"The third," the voice repeated slowly.
"He… he was nothing at first," the disciple said quickly. "He couldn't even stand. But then—"
He hesitated.
As if even recalling it was dangerous. "Speak."
The command tightened around his throat like an unseen hand.
"He changed," the disciple forced out. "Not fully. Something incomplete… unstable. But powerful. He destroyed three of us before collapsing again."
Silence followed. Heavy..... Measuring. Then —
"Incompetent." The word struck harder than any blow.
The disciples flinched.
"You faced an unformed power," the voice said, calm now — but far more dangerous. "And still you failed to secure what belongs to me."
None of them responded. None of them dared.
The darkness around them pulsed once. Slow and deliberate.
"Enough." The tension shifted. Not gone.... But redirected.
"Bring forth the one who foresees"
A ripple passed through the group.
From within their ranks, a figure stepped forward.
Cloaked. Unremarkable. Hidden... Yet something about their presence felt… wrong.
Too still, too controlled. The figure bowed their head slightly.
"My lord."
The voice seemed to lean closer —not physically, but in presence. The pressure intensified around the figure.
"You were there," it said. A simple statement rather than a question.
"Yes."
"Then speak."
The clearing fell into absolute silence. Even the shadows seemed to hold their breath.
The figure did not hesitate.
"They survived," the voice said evenly. "Barely. The artifact remains in their possession."
A pause.
"They have changed direction." The darkness stirred faintly.
"Where?"
"South." The word lingered, heavy with implication.
The presence grew still — Completely still, as if listening to something far beyond the clearing.
"And their purpose?" it asked.
The cloaked figure lifted their head slightly.
"They seek what comes after the artifact," they said.
Another pause.
Then, clearly—
"They are searching for the Lupercalia's Blood."
For a moment — Nothing happened.
Then the ground trembled... Not violently but deeply, as though something ancient had just been acknowledged.
"…So" the voice murmured.
Understanding, Cold and precise.
"They have begun to follow the path."
The disciples remained frozen, heads bowed, bodies rigid with tension.
The presence shifted again. This time— in calculation.
"Then we will not stop them," it said.
A few of the Dark Minors flinched in confusion.
The voice continued before any could question it.
"They will lead us exactly where we need to go."
The shadows around the clearing deepened, stretching longer, darker.
Hungry.
"Track them," the voice commanded. "But do not engage unless necessary."
A pause. Then, sharper—
"And do not fail me again!"
The warning settled into their bones.
Permanent.... Unforgiving.
"Yes, lord" they answered in unison.
The pressure lifted slightly..... Enough for them to breathe again.
But the presence did not fully withdraw. Not yet.
One last thing lingered. A quiet, unseen focus — On the cloaked figure.
"You shall remain among them," the voice said, softer now. "Watch. Listen."
The figure bowed again. "As you command."
A moment passed. Then — The presence was gone. Not vanished but withdrawn.... Like something vast receding into an endless distance.
The darkness loosened its grip on the clearing.
The ground stilled.
The disciples slowly rose, none daring to speak as they faded back into the shadows one by one.
All except one — The cloaked figure remained where it stood.... Motionless and silent. Then, slowly — It turned.
And stepped back into the darkness. Unseen, unnoticed, unquestioned.
And far to the south — The hunt continued... Unaware that something within their path…... Was already watching from the inside.