Ulrich stood before the ritual circle carved into Helgan's Keep's stone floor, the silver whistle amulet cold against his palm. He had rented a private residential unit just for this moment, afraid of attracting any unnecessary attention. There were over three hundred umbra shards worth of materials in his rucksack, converted at the trading post. The incomplete Aranid Soul Core rested separately, and so did the Great Knight’s complete Soul Core.

  At this moment, Ulrich raised the amulet whistle to his lips and blew.

  No sound emerged in the conventional sense, but spirituality rippled outward in concentric waves. The ritual circle activated, shadows pooling within its boundaries like liquid darkness. The Shadow Gate opened, a vertical tear in reality that showed glimpses of the surface world beyond.

  For a moment, Ulrich hesitated at the threshold, recalling his time in the Shadow Realm. It was days of progress, of pushing past limits he hadn't known existed. The graveyard where he completed his Vital Rune. Cadry Ruin and the Tainted Myriad Undead King that left scars on his psyche. The dungeon's depths where he created Night Chain through sheer necessity.

  He had descended into the Shadow Realm as a barely competent Rank 1 Weaver. He emerged as something more capable, if not necessarily stronger. The difference lay not in raw power but in understanding, in knowing that knowledge were no different than power. He already knew that was the case, but to see it firsthand was an entirely different experience.

  Ulrich stepped through the gate.

  The transition felt like passing through ice water. Cold shocked his system, then warmth rushed in as he emerged into the surface world's environment. The Sanctuary's memorial hall materialized around him, familiar stone walls covered in dust and tablets.

  "You sure took your time," Rosaline said teasingly, though he’d noticed that slight concern on her face. "Captain Ottis requests your presence immediately upon return. He's in his office."

  "Thank you." Ulrich adjusted his rucksack and headed for Captain Ottis’s office.

  The office was sparse, functional rather than decorative. A desk, two chairs, and filing cabinets along one wall. Captain Ottis sat reviewing documents, his salt-and-pepper hair neatly trimmed, his Watchman's coat bearing the insignia of his status. He looked up as Ulrich entered, his gray eyes assessing the young watchman's appearance.

  "Sit." Captain Ottis gestured to the chair across from his desk.

  Ulrich sat, placing his rucksack carefully beside him. That scent of cigarettes was familiar, and not the good kind of familiarity. Though, having spent his time down there, he grew somewhat appreciative of that scent.

  "You were in the Shadow Realm for three weeks," Captain Ottis stated it as fact rather than a question. It was as though he was trying to confirm the facts. "Standard procedure requires a full report of all encounters and experiences. Of course, assessing your mental state is important as well."

  "Understood, Captain."

  "Begin with your arrival at Helgan's Keep. I heard of some details from Rosaline."

  Ulrich had prepared for this conversation during the journey back. The Ministry valued information, but certain details needed careful editing.

  "I hunted in an unnamed graveyard northeast of the Keep. Ordinary and Great Skeletons primarily. Filled my Vital Rune to completion through accumulated lesser runes."

  Captain Ottis's pen scratched across paper, recording details. "Completion at what percentage?"

  "One hundred percent. All my abilities are enhanced beyond previous limitations."

  "Enhanced how specifically?"

  Ulrich kept his voice level, his posture relaxed. "My dark Arrow can now manifest with minimal spirituality cost. Shadow Vision reveals more detail. My danger sense and seer intuition have improved significantly."

  All true, but incomplete. He didn't mention Shadow Step; that spell had emerged naturally from Vital Rune completion through Shadow Vision. And no mention of Blessing of the Shadow's dramatic enhancement. Reading from Rosaline and Ma'am Felanor's strange behavior regarding this talent, Ulrich had a feeling that it was best to keep it a secret and not mention it unless needed.

  Captain Ottis resumed writing. "Continue."

  "I explored Cadry Ruin, retrieved formulas and cursed accessories from Lord William's personal study in the Eastern Wing Tower." Ulrich pulled the leather journals from his pack and placed them on the desk. "The formulas include Rank 2 and 3 for the Rune of Shadow. The accessories look ordinary. I haven't had the chance to look into it too deeply."

  "You went to Cadry Ruin alone?"

  "Yes, Captain."

  Another pause. Ottis's fingers drummed once against the desk, the only outward sign of skepticism. "Cadry Ruin, like the many ruins documented in our library, are quite dangerous. You're certain you encountered nothing beyond your capability?"

  "I stayed in cleared areas. The inner gate had been previously opened by another Weaver, allowing access to the Eastern Wing without engaging with the Keep's center. My seer intuition tells me that entering the Keep's Castle would be no different from death, so I avoided it."

  Technically true.

  Knight Henrik had been defeated, opening the gate. The fact that Ulrich himself had defeated Henrik weeks prior was an omission rather than a lie. That part, he'd never reported, and doing so now would raise a series of questions, which could certainly destroy all his narrative thus far.

  Captain Ottis made another note. "And the dungeon beneath Helgan's Keep? I've heard some news about it."

  "I only explored the outer two layers. Encountered various creatures, including: Aranids, skeletal variants, bats, and Barghests. This is where I gathered most of my materials and made money."

  Ulrich gestured to his rucksack. "All converted to Umbra Shards for ease of transportation and convenience."

  Captain Ottis eyes flickered, and it did not escape the seer's keen observation. He didn't comment on it and turn his attention back to Ulrich.

  "Barghests are pack hunters. How did you manage them alone?"

  "I manifested a binding spell using shadow vision and immobilized them before finishing with Dark Arrow." Again, true but carefully phrased. He didn't mention Night Chain specifically, or talk about the Aranid's Soul Core. The Ministry, as far as he could understand, are quite strict with matters relating to cursed items. Not to mention, a newcomer using the Soul Core for their spell?

  Captain Ottis set down his pen and leaned back, his gray eyes studying Ulrich with uncomfortable intensity. The silence stretched. Ulrich maintained his breathing steady, his expression attentive but not anxious. He had learned long ago that the guilty filled silence with unnecessary words.

  Finally, Captain Ottis spoke with a light chuckle. "You're omitting some details."

  "I've reported all relevant encounters and materials acquired, Captain."

  "Relevant to Ministry interests, perhaps." Captain Ottis folded his hands on the desk. "But not everything that occurred."

  Ulrich said nothing, waiting. From the look of it, there must be a reason Captain Ottis was performing this inquiry in such a manner.

  "I'm not accusing you of deception, Ulrich. We are past that point. Every member has the right to privacy regarding personal matters that don't affect Ministry operations. I trust that you understand this much." Ottis's tone remained level, professional to the point that Ulrich found it foreign.

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  "However, I need to know if you encountered anything that poses an ongoing threat. Anything that might follow you back to the surface, even worse, affect you mentally or spiritually. This is a level of trust we need if you want to remain in the Ministry."

  "Nothing followed me through the Shadow Gate. I have some reliable friends who could purify any mental corruption that may follow me."

  The Tainted Myriad Undead King had possessed intelligence and a strong aura of corruption, but Anna and Rosaline had been present for that encounter. And the mental corruption it inflicted remained contained, not spreading. Or at least, he didn't feel it anymore than prior to confronting it.

  Captain Ottis seemed to accept this and picked up his pen again. "Now, the matter of your advancement. I assume you are looking for resources for Rank 2 refinement?"

  "I'd like to request direct exchange for a completed Rank 2 Rune of Shadow. Three hundred umbra shards worth, as permitted by my standing within the Ministry."

  The pen stopped mid-word. His jaw tightened fractionally, a micro-expression that vanished almost immediately. Then set the pen down with deliberate care.

  "Do you understand what you're asking for?"

  "Actually, I don't. I'm just following Rosaline's words."

  Captain Ottis stood up and walked to the window overlooking Euston Street. His back faced Ulrich, shoulders tensed beneath his coat. He turned, and something in his expression had shifted. Not anger, but a kind of weary resignation. "Rosaline had informed me of your talent. Blessing of the Shadow. An ability that enhances your capabilities beyond normal Rank 1. Do you really have it?"

  Ulrich's heart rate increased, but he kept his face neutral. Rosaline had reported it; there must be a reason why she did. Ulrich had kept that possibility in mind, but to think that it would come to fruition.

  "I do." Ulrich nodded.

  "How many people know about it?"

  "Myself. Rosaline. And now you, Captain."

  Captain Ottis returned to his desk but remained standing. "Keep it that way. Tell no one else, not your closest acquaintances, not other Watchmen, absolutely no one outside this room. Do you understand?"

  "Yes, Captain."

  "Talents like yours draw attention. The wrong kind of attention from people who would seek to exploit or eliminate potential threats before they fully develop." Ottis's voice carried genuine concern beneath the professional exterior. "The Ministry can protect you to a degree, but only if you exercise discretion. And by that, I mean don't stand out too much."

  "I understand."

  Captain Ottis sat back on his seat, suddenly looking older than his years. "The Rank 2 Rune request will be processed with my name. Three days to gather the materials and complete refinement. You'll be notified when it's ready for use."

  Ulrich pulled the umbra shards from his rucksack and placed them on the desk. Three hundred exactly, their combined essence creating a faint glow. Ottis stared at them for a long moment before nodding.

  "You are dismissed. Get some rest. You look like you haven't had a decent lick of sleep in a long while."

  Ulrich stood up with relief, gathering his now-lighter rucksack. At the door, he paused. "Captain, thank you. For the advice."

  Captain Ottis waved a hand dismissively. "Next time you're in the Shadow Realm, try not to push your luck quite so hard."

  ...

  The streets of Belham's Inner District felt surreal after weeks in the Shadow Realm's eternal twilight. Afternoon sunlight painted buildings in warm gold, and the sounds of normal city life, vendors calling wares, carriage wheels on cobblestone, distant church bells; all creating a symphony Ulrich had almost forgotten.

  He walked slowly toward 55th Euston Street, fatigue making each step an effort. His mind suggested he should return to his own lodgings, rest, and recover properly before social obligations. But something pulled him toward Selena's residence, a need to ground himself in normalcy through the presence of someone he knew.

  Selena's home was a modest but well-maintained townhouse, its facade decorated with flower boxes that Selena tended personally. Ulrich climbed the steps and knocked.

  A servant answered, recognized him, and showed him to the sitting room. "Miss Morris will be down momentarily, sir."

  She hired a servant? That's... extravagant.

  Ulrich waited, studying the familiar space. Oil paintings on the walls, comfortable furniture arranged for conversation, a bookshelf filled with volumes on botany and poetry. Everything spoke of gentle cultivation, of a life lived away from chaos.

  Footsteps on the stairs preceded Selena's entrance.

  She appeared in the doorway like sunrise breaking through storm clouds, bright yellow dress complementing honey-colored hair arranged in loose curls. Her smile was immediate and radiant, the kind of genuine warmth that seemed impossible in a world filled with gloom.

  "Ulrich! I hadn't expected to see you today." She crossed the room and took his hands, her grip warm. "You look exhausted. Have you been sleeping at all?"

  "Work has been demanding," he said, returning her smile with effort. "I apologize for the unexpected visit."

  "Nonsense, you're always welcome here. Sit, please. I'll have tea brought to the table."

  They settled into facing chairs while Selena rang for the servant. Her hazel eyes studied him with the particular attention she always gave people, as though reading entire stories from minor details.

  "You've lost weight," she observed. "And there's a bruise on your jaw you're trying to hide."

  "An accident during training exercises. Nothing serious."

  "Of course." Her tone suggested she didn't believe him but wouldn't press. "You should eat more. Training or not, you look like a strong wind could blow you over."

  The tea arrived, and the conversation shifted to more mundane topics. Selena spoke about her recent efforts organizing a charity event for the local orphanage, her excitement over a rare orchid species that had finally bloomed in her greenhouse, and a book of poetry she'd discovered in a second-hand shop.

  Ulrich listened, offering appropriate responses while fabricating lies about his own ordinary life. Yes, he'd been assigned routine patrols. No, nothing exciting had occurred. Just paperwork and monotony, exactly as one would expect from low-level civil servant work. Gradually, that last imprint of mental corruption from the Tainted Myriad Undead King faded completely.

  Indeed. Humans are social creatures... Aristotle would be proud if he were alive.

  She laughed at his description of filing reports in triplicate that sounded like bells. "I can't imagine you enjoying desk work. You've always struck me as someone who needs to be moving, doing things rather than recording them."

  "Unfortunately, bureaucracy cares little for personal preference, as is with any job."

  "True enough." Selena poured more tea, her movements graceful and practiced. "Though I suppose even exciting work would grow tedious if done constantly. Sometimes mundaneness is a blessing."

  Something in her phrasing caught his attention, a subtle emphasis on 'blessing' that felt deliberate. But when he looked up, her expression remained open and friendly.

  "How have you been?" Ulrich asked, redirecting. "Truly, I mean. Not just the charity events and orchids."

  Selena's smile dimmed fractionally, replaced by something more contemplative. "I've been well. Better than I was, certainly. The recent... difficulties have resolved themselves."

  She probably meant the kidnapping, though neither spoke of it directly. The event had occurred weeks ago, resolved through Ministry intervention that Ulrich had participated in peripherally. But Selena had been returned safely, or so the official reports claimed. He had asked around before meeting Selena, just in case.

  "I'm glad to hear it. You seem more yourself."

  "Do I?" Selena tilted her head, studying him with unusual intensity. "Sometimes I wonder if we ever truly return to who we were before difficult experiences. Or if we simply become very good at mimicking our former selves."

  The observation was more philosophical than her usual cheerful commentary. Ulrich's Seer intuition pulsed faintly, but he couldn't identify why. Nothing in Selena's demeanor suggested distress; her posture remained relaxed, her smile genuine when it appeared.

  "Perhaps we become synthetic," Ulrich offered. "Parts of who we were, combined with what we learned, creating something new but still recognizably us."

  "That's a comforting thought." Selena's fingers traced the rim of her teacup, an absent gesture. "Though I sometimes wonder if the new parts are improvements or corruptions of the original design."

  "I think that depends on what we do with them."

  "Yes." She looked up, and for just an instant, something flickered in her eyes. Not quite weird, but different. A depth that hadn't existed before, or perhaps had always existed but remained hidden. "I suppose it does."

  The moment passed. Selena brightened again, launching into a story about her younger brother's latest academic achievements. Ulrich listened and responded appropriately, but part of his mind remained focused on that brief flicker.

  Had it been real, or an imagination born from exhaustion?

  They spoke for another hour before Ulrich made his excuses, citing fatigue and the need to rest before returning to work. Selena walked him to the door, pressing a small package wrapped in cloth into his hands.

  "Honey cakes," she explained. "I baked them this morning. You need to eat properly, and I know you won't unless someone forces you."

  "Thank you, Selena. This was exactly what I needed."

  "Good." She squeezed his hand briefly. "Come visit again soon, please? I worry about you when too much time passes between visits."

  "I will. I promise."

  Ulrich descended the steps and walked toward his own lodgings several streets away. The package of honey cakes weighed almost nothing, but the gesture behind it felt substantial, a reminder that someone did care about him, and that made his heart estrange.

  Behind him, visible only to those who might have been watching, Selena Morris remained in her doorway. Her smile faded as soon as Ulrich turned the corner. For a moment, her expression went completely blank, empty of the warmth and life that had filled it during their conversation.

  Then she raised one hand, studying her palm with clinical detachment. Faint marks were traced across her skin, symbols that resembled writing but in no language spoken on the surface world. They pulsed once with dim light before fading entirely.

  Selena's smile returned, but it held a different quality. Not warm or radiant, but satisfaction. She turned and walked back into her home, closing the door with a soft click. The sitting room's shadows seemed deeper than they had been, and in their depths, something ancient stirred.

  ...