Umbra's Gate never slept. Even at midnight, the harbor pulsed with life—lanterns swinging, cranes creaking, cargo rolling on iron wheels. But tonight, beneath the hum of trade, a storm brewed.
From the shadows of a warehouse roof, Nyasha watched the Covenant's convoy rumble toward the docks: wagons laden with sealed chests, guarded by armored soldiers. Word was they carried obsidian shards, relics meant to bind the Emberheart—or worse, weaponize it.
Kofi crouched beside her, eyes scanning the street. "Too many guards for one strike."
"Which is why we're not striking alone," Nyasha murmured.
Across the city, Zara was already moving with a second crew—saboteurs armed with firepowder and stolen blades. Their target: the Covenant's storage depot, a warehouse stuffed with supplies meant to keep the city under heel.
Nyasha's pulse beat steady. Two blades of the same strike. If they pulled it off, Umbra's Gate would wake to both fear and hope.
The convoy rolled into the choke-point.
"Now," Nyasha whispered.
The night erupted.
Kofi leapt from the shadows like a thunderclap, chains still wrapped around his fists, smashing into the lead wagon. Wood splintered, wheels shattered, soldiers shouted.
Nyasha rose with fire swirling around her arms. She swept her hands wide, and the Emberheart roared—walls of flame bursting between wagons, cutting the guards off from one another. Screams split the night as the convoy dissolved into chaos.
Steel met fire, chains met shields. The street became a battleground.
And then—like clockwork—the Covenant's backup forces came rushing from the eastern gate.
Nyasha turned. "Kofi—hold them!"
He grunted, already wading into the clash, fists shattering blades, runes sparking where they struck his skin.
Nyasha stepped into the center of the street, raised both hands, and pulled the Emberheart deep into her chest. Fire seared her veins, burning like it wanted to break her open. She let it. A shockwave of heat blasted outward, staggering the incoming line, melting cobblestones beneath their boots.
Above, a flare streaked the night sky—Zara's signal. Across the city, the depot was burning, an inferno lighting the skyline red.
The Covenant would know. The whole city would know.
Nyasha's fire dimmed as she staggered, chest heaving, but her eyes burned bright. "This is only the beginning."