Chapter 9 – The Long Night
The horns didn't stop.
Their deep, echoing blasts rolled across Shinokuni-01, bouncing off rooftops and alleyways until every citizen knew something was wrong.
Brook stood on the northern wall, his grip tightening around the hilt of his sword.
Below, the city had changed in minutes.
The lively streets from that morning were gone.
Market stalls were abandoned.
Parents hurried their children indoors.
Heavy iron gates sealed the entrances to the inner districts while squads of Watchmen took their positions along the battlements.
Captain Mercer lowered the spyglass from his eye.
"They're gone."
Brook kept looking into the forest.
The hundreds of Abominations that had gathered outside the Wall had disappeared without attacking.
Not scattered.
Not defeated.
Simply… gone.
Crowley rested his forearms on the stone railing.
"They weren't interested in us."
Mercer nodded.
"I know."
The answer bothered him more than an attack would have.
Abominations hunted.
They killed.
They never gathered in silence.
And they certainly didn't run away.
Not from humans.
The command room beneath the northern gate buzzed with tension.
A large map of the surrounding wilderness covered the center table.
Wooden markers had already been placed where scouts reported seeing the gathering.
Mercer stood at the head of the room.
"Report."
A scout stepped forward.
"No breaches."
"Tracks?"
"Thousands."
The room fell quiet.
"Direction?"
"They all fled west."
Another officer frowned.
"Toward the Blackwood."
A murmur spread through the room.
Brook noticed it immediately.
Even seasoned officers looked uneasy at the name.
He leaned toward Crowley.
"What's in the Blackwood?"
Crowley didn't answer right away.
His eyes remained fixed on the map.
"Stories."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only one I've got."
Brook wasn't convinced.
By sunset the city had settled into an uneasy silence.
The emergency alert remained active.
Every Watchman was ordered to stay armed.
Every gate remained locked.
Brook walked the northern district with Crowley during the evening patrol.
The streets were nearly empty.
Lanterns burned outside homes, casting warm pools of light across the stone roads.
Behind closed windows, families ate dinner while pretending nothing had happened.
"They're scared," Brook said quietly.
Crowley nodded.
"They should be."
Brook looked toward him.
"You don't seem scared."
Crowley smiled faintly.
"I've lived long enough to know that fear isn't always useful."
Brook laughed.
"You always have an answer."
"Not always."
"What scares you?"
Crowley didn't answer.
For several seconds, only their footsteps echoed through the empty street.
Finally he spoke.
"People who believe they can't be stopped."
Brook frowned.
"That's… oddly specific."
"It usually is."
Their patrol took them past Saint Rowan's Chapel.
Unlike the rest of the district, the chapel was full.
People lit candles inside while priests offered prayers for the Watchmen guarding the Wall.
Brook watched quietly from outside.
"You ever go in?" Crowley asked.
"Sometimes."
"Do you believe?"
Brook shrugged.
"I don't know."
"I think people need hope."
Crowley looked toward the chapel doors.
"So do I."
Before Brook could respond, a scream shattered the calm.
"Help!"
Both men moved instantly.
The cry came from a narrow alley between two warehouses.
Brook reached it first.
A teenage boy lay trapped beneath a collapsed delivery cart.
Its wooden wheel had shattered, pinning his leg beneath the axle.
Two frightened girls tried desperately to lift it but couldn't.
Brook dropped to one knee.
"It's okay."
"We've got you."
He wedged his shoulder beneath the cart.
"Ready?"
Crowley nodded once.
Together they lifted.
The cart rose just enough for the girls to pull the injured boy free.
Brook lowered it carefully.
The boy's ankle was swollen badly.
"It hurts…"
"I know."
Brook tore a strip from his cloak and wrapped the ankle tightly.
"We'll get you to the infirmary."
The boy looked up at him with watery eyes.
"…Thank you."
Brook smiled.
"Next time, don't try racing a delivery cart downhill."
One of the girls sniffled.
"We told him not to."
The boy groaned.
"I know…"
Crowley chuckled under his breath.
"You'll live."
They escorted the three teenagers toward the infirmary.
The streets were quiet once more.
Too quiet.
Brook noticed Crowley suddenly stop walking.
"What is it?"
Crowley's eyes drifted toward the rooftops.
For only a moment.
Then he continued walking.
"…Nothing."
Brook looked up.
There was nothing there.
At least…
Nothing he could see.
High above them, hidden in the darkness between two chimneys, a lone figure remained perfectly still.
A black cloak concealed every inch of their body.
Only a pair of silver eyes reflected the moonlight.
They watched Brook disappear into the distance.
Then they shifted their gaze toward Crowley.
For the first time since arriving in Shinokuni-01…
The stranger frowned.
"So…"
the figure whispered.
"You're still protecting him."
A cold breeze swept across the rooftops.
The cloaked figure stepped backward—
—and simply vanished into the night.
Later, as Brook returned to his apartment, he stood for a moment on the small balcony outside his room.
The city was quiet again.
The Wall loomed in the distance, its silhouette black against the moonlit sky.
He thought about the Abominations.
About the strange retreat.
About the fear on Captain Mercer's face.
None of it made sense.
Behind him, someone knocked twice on the door.
It was Sera.
"You've been standing out here for ten minutes."
Brook smiled without turning around.
"I was thinking."
"Dangerous hobby."
"It is."
She handed him a paper bag.
"Dinner."
"You made extra again?"
"You never make enough."
He laughed.
"Come in."
As the two friends stepped inside, neither of them noticed the shadow standing on the rooftop across the street.
Watching.
Waiting.
Not for Brook.
For Crowley.
The shadow lingered for another second before disappearing without making a sound.