Rain swept across Insomnia in endless waves that night, washing the city in silver light.
From the uppermost chamber of the Citadel's Shadow Wing, Sirius Blake stood at the panoramic window, his reflection fractured by droplets that streaked across the glass. Below him, the city glowed—alive, unknowing, safe.
His hand rested lightly against the cool surface, fingers brushing the reflection of his eyes—crimson, steady, but tired.
The faint hum of the barrier far above the skyline resonated through the glass, a low, patient thrum. He had memorized that sound. It meant Lucis still lived.
He adjusted the clasp of his cloak where the Fang of Command rested, its weight hidden against his chest. The metal was cool—less like a trophy and more like a reminder.
Cor's words echoed from the day before:
"It's not rank. It's burden."
He understood now.
---
A tone chimed once—two soft notes, a private signal.
Sirius turned toward the door. "Enter."
The doors parted with a hiss. Three figures stepped through the threshold.
Kael, blades sheathed at his hips, hair damp and wild from the storm, a grin already forming.
Rhea, calm and sharp, pulling her hood back and brushing stray water from her hair.
And Darius, tall and broad, armor plates still dripping rainwater onto the floor, silent but grounded as stone.
Kael glanced around the dimly lit chamber. "So this is the White Fang's new den."
Rhea smirked. "Looks about right. Quiet, expensive, and probably built over an old war bunker."
Sirius crossed his arms. "You're dripping on the floor."
Kael looked down, then shrugged. "Consider it a blessing for your spotless command room."
Despite himself, Sirius almost smiled. "You're the same as ever."
"Consistency is a virtue," Kael said, spreading his hands. "Cor would agree."
"Cor would throw you off the balcony," Rhea muttered.
Darius gave a quiet rumble of laughter that startled them all—the kind of deep, rare sound that warmed the air despite the cold. "He might," he admitted. "But he'd wait for the right moment first."
Sirius shook his head. "Sit. We have work."
---
At his gesture, the center table lit up, projecting a holographic map of Lucis. The kingdom spread in shades of blue, veins of ley lines glowing faintly.
Three red markers pulsed at the edges of the barrier—tiny wounds on the map's perfection.
"Daemon incursions," Sirius said. "Not large, but patterned. Someone's testing our perimeters."
Rhea leaned forward, scanning the data. "That's not random. Look at the intervals—it's coordinated."
"Exactly," Sirius said. "But they're staying low enough to avoid official detection. No alerts to the Crownsguard yet."
Kael frowned. "So the brass doesn't know. You want to move without orders."
Sirius met his eyes. "We don't wait for the light to flicker. We act before anyone notices it dimming."
Darius nodded. "Silent work. Prevent before response."
"Exactly."
Kael tapped the table. "You realize that makes this the first unofficial mission under your command?"
"It makes it necessary," Sirius corrected. "Our role isn't to be seen. It's to ensure others never have to notice."
---
Lightning flashed through the window. The map's glow reflected in their eyes, painting them in shades of blue and white.
Sirius expanded the display, highlighting three coordinates:
—An abandoned rail junction outside Insomnia.
—The remains of an old fortress in Leide.
—A collapsed mine near the borderlands.
"These are the strongest signatures," he said. "Daemon residue, magitek interference, and possible smuggler routes. We'll investigate all three."
Rhea crossed her arms. "Three points, four of us. How do you want to split it?"
Sirius pointed to each marker in turn. "Kael, you'll scout the rail junction. Rhea, take the fortress ruins. Darius and I will handle the mine."
Kael smirked. "Taking the heavy hitter, huh?"
"Taking the one who doesn't talk back," Sirius said dryly.
That earned quiet laughter from Rhea. Even Darius allowed himself a faint smile.
"Move fast, stay unseen," Sirius continued. "We'll regroup at the rail line by dawn. If something feels wrong, withdraw—silence takes priority over pride."
Kael raised a brow. "Cor's rule?"
Sirius nodded. "His, and now mine."
---
They stood in silence for a moment, the only sound the rain against the windows.
Then Sirius powered down the map and stepped away from the table.
He reached into his cloak and withdrew a small badge—the same insignia Cor had given him the night before. Its fang-and-flame design caught the dim light, gleaming like a heartbeat.
"This mark," he said quietly, "isn't just for me. It's for us. The first of the new Shadow Guard. The ones who walk unseen, not unbound."
Kael tilted his head. "Unbound?"
"It means," Rhea said softly, "we choose this path. No orders. No glory. Only purpose."
Sirius nodded once. "Exactly."
Kael smirked. "Then what do we call ourselves? Something dramatic, I hope."
Sirius gave him a look. "I wasn't planning to—"
"Come on," Kael pressed, grinning. "The Immortal had the Crownsguard, the King has his Blades. We need a name too."
Rhea rolled her eyes. "Don't encourage him."
But Kael wasn't deterred. "Fangs," he said suddenly. "We're his Fangs."
Sirius blinked. "Fangs?"
"White Fang leads," Kael explained. "The rest of us bite back."
Rhea groaned. "That's awful."
Darius, surprisingly, said, "It fits."
Sirius looked between them—Kael's grin, Rhea's exasperation, Darius's quiet certainty—and felt something in his chest ease.
"Then it's decided," he said at last. "The Fangs of Shadow."
---
He drew the Leonis heirloom, the silver blade whispering as it left the sheath. The polished steel caught the light, reflecting all four faces back at once.
"We walk together," Sirius said. "Not for glory. Not for praise. For Lucis, and for each other."
He lifted the sword slightly, its edge hovering over the table.
Kael crossed his twin knives in salute. "For Lucis."
Rhea followed, drawing her sabre. "For silence."
Darius placed a hand to his chest, bowing his head. "For unity."
Sirius lowered his blade until the point touched the metal floor. "For the unseen."
Their voices joined—four tones, one promise.
No audience, no applause. Only the rain listening.
---
Minutes passed after they sheathed their weapons. The storm began to fade, thunder rolling further away.
Rhea exhaled. "So what now?"
Sirius answered without hesitation. "Now we train. We synchronize. When the next shadow moves, we'll already be there."
Kael grinned. "You mean you'll train. The rest of us will try to keep up."
"Try harder," Sirius replied.
Darius's low laugh returned. "We'll be ready."
They filed out, their boots echoing softly down the corridor.
When the doors sealed behind them, Sirius remained alone. The silence that followed wasn't empty—it was steady, full. The kind of quiet that came after purpose found its form.
He turned back to the window. The clouds were breaking, and beyond them, dawn's faint glow began to brush the edge of the horizon.
His reflection overlapped the city's skyline, red eyes glowing faintly beneath the dim light.
"We walk unseen," he murmured, "but not without meaning."
---
Moments later, the door opened once more.
Cor Leonis stepped inside, silent as a shadow. He stopped a few feet behind his nephew, gaze flicking from the empty table to the faint condensation mark where four hands had rested together.
He didn't announce himself—just folded his arms and looked out the same window.
"You heard," Sirius said without turning.
Cor's tone was quiet, but his words carried weight. "I did. 'The Fangs of Shadow,' huh?"
Sirius half-smiled. "Kael's idea."
"Of course it was."
They stood there for a time, watching the rain slow to a drizzle. The city shimmered below, its towers glistening as dawn finally broke.
"They'll follow you," Cor said finally.
"They already do," Sirius replied. "I just have to make sure they survive it."
Cor's expression softened—a rare thing. "That's leadership."
He started to leave, pausing at the doorway. "You've built something. Small, dangerous, and quiet. Keep it that way."
"I intend to," Sirius said.
Cor nodded once. "Good." He took a few steps, then added over his shoulder, "And for what it's worth, Sirius… it suits you."
When the door closed, Sirius stood alone again. The light over the city grew stronger, washing away the storm.
He placed a hand over the hidden badge beneath his cloak and whispered the words only the shadows would hear:
"For Lucis. For silence. For the unseen."
That morning, as the first sunlight touched the Citadel's steel and glass, four unseen protectors began their watch. No banners, no anthem, no names—only the whisper carried through the waking streets:
The Fangs of Shadow had risen.