The silence in the interrogation room was suffocating.
Mira stared at Marcus, her hand still hovering near her weapon. Renan stood behind her, eyes locked on Marcus, ready to move at the slightest threat. Osman leaned against the far wall, arms crossed, watching everything with the quiet intensity of a predator.
And Lucien stood between them all, caught in the storm.
Marcus hadn't moved. His half of the key rested on the table, glinting faintly under the harsh fluorescent lights. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes never left Mira.
She was trembling.
Not from fear. From rage. From grief. From ten years of carrying a weight she'd never asked for.
Her fingers moved slowly to her collar.
Lucien saw it. The way her hand hesitated. The way her jaw tightened. The way her eyes flickered... just for a second... with something that looked like pain.
"Mira," he said quietly.
She didn't look at him.
Instead, she pulled the chain from beneath her shirt.
A thin silver necklace. And dangling from it, tarnished with age but unmistakable, was the other half of the key.
Marcus exhaled sharply.
Renan's eyes widened.
Osman straightened slightly, curiosity flashing across his features.
Lucien said nothing. He just stared.
Mira held the key in her palm, her fingers curling around it like it was the only thing keeping her grounded.
"I took it," she said, her voice hollow. "That night. From his hand."
Her eyes lifted to Marcus, and they burned.
"He was holding it when he died. Protecting it. From you."
Marcus's face tightened, but he didn't argue. He didn't defend himself.
"I didn't know what it was," Mira continued, her voice breaking slightly. "I was eight years old. I just... I couldn't leave him with nothing."
She looked down at the key, her grip trembling.
"So I took it. And I've carried it ever since."
Lucien's chest tightened. He could see it now... the little girl standing in the wreckage of her home, clutching the only piece of her father she had left.
"Mira," Renan said softly, stepping closer.
But she shook her head, cutting him off.
"I had Renan research it," she said, her voice steadying. "For years. We found nothing. No records. No matches. Just... a key to nowhere."
Her gaze snapped back to Marcus.
"And now you're telling me it's part of something my father died protecting?"
Marcus nodded slowly. "Yes."
"From you?"
"No." Marcus's voice was firm. "From them. The Shadow Knights. The Templars who became monsters."
Mira's jaw clenched. "And I'm supposed to believe that?"
"You don't have to believe me," Marcus said quietly. "But your father did. He trusted me with his half. He knew what was at stake."
Mira's hand tightened around the key.
Lucien stepped forward. "Mira."
She finally looked at him.
"I know what you saw that night," he said carefully. "And I know why you think what you think. But Marcus didn't kill your family."
"Then who did?" she snapped.
"A Shadow Knight," Lucien said. "The same one who took me into that rift. The same one we're going to face in six days."
Mira's breath hitched.
Osman spoke for the first time, his voice low and rough. "I have seen these creatures. In Old Jerusalem. They are monsters. And they serve a master."
Mira's eyes flicked to him, then back to Lucien.
"You trust him?" she asked, nodding toward Marcus.
Lucien hesitated. Then, slowly, he nodded. "I do."
Mira stared at him for a long moment.
Then, without a word, she turned and walked toward the door.
"Where are you going?" Renan asked.
She stopped, her hand on the handle.
"If we're going to do this," she said quietly, "we're not doing it here."
She glanced back at Marcus.
"You said you have somewhere secure. Take us there."
Marcus's residence was not what Lucien expected.
It was a brownstone in Brooklyn, tucked into a quiet tree-lined street far from the chaos of Manhattan. Modest. Unassuming. The kind of place you'd walk past without a second glance.
Which, Lucien realized, was exactly the point.
Inside, the space was warm. Dark wood floors, leather furniture, bookshelves lining the walls. A fireplace sat cold and empty in the corner. It felt lived-in. Human.
Not the lair of a secret organization.
Marcus led them to a sitting room on the second floor. He locked the door behind them, then gestured for everyone to sit.
No one did.
Mira stood near the window, arms crossed, staring out at the street below. Renan positioned himself near her, ever the guardian. Osman leaned against the wall by the door, silent and watchful.
Lucien remained in the center of the room, his gaze moving between them all.
Marcus walked to a wooden cabinet in the corner and pulled out a small locked box. He set it on the table, opened it with a key from his pocket, and carefully lifted out his half of the key.
He placed it on the table.
Then he looked at Mira.
"Whenever you're ready," he said quietly.
Mira didn't move at first.
But slowly, she reached up and unclasped the necklace from around her neck. She held it in her hand for a moment, staring at it like she was letting go of something far heavier than metal.
Then she stepped forward and placed it on the table beside Marcus's half.
The moment the two pieces came within a foot of each other, something changed.
They moved.
Not violently. Not suddenly. But unmistakably.
They slid across the polished wood surface, drawn toward each other like magnets.
Renan swore under his breath.
Mira's eyes widened.
Osman straightened, his gaze sharp.
Lucien stepped closer, watching as the two halves aligned perfectly. The edges fit together seamlessly, like they'd never been apart.
Marcus reached out and gently pressed them together.
There was a soft click.
And then the key began to glow.
It wasn't bright. Just a faint, pale light that pulsed once, twice, three times.
Then it faded.
The room fell silent.
Mira stared at the now-whole key, her expression unreadable.
"What... what is it?" Renan asked.
Marcus picked it up carefully, turning it over in his hands. "A key. To something the Founder deemed vital."
"What does it open?" Lucien asked.
"We don't know," Marcus admitted. "The Founder left no map. No instructions. Just the key itself, divided between two families. The Ashfords and the Beaumonts."
He looked at Mira. "Your father's family. And mine."
Mira's jaw tightened. "And you're telling me you have no idea what it opens?"
"None," Marcus said. "But the fact that the Shadow Knights came for it ten years ago tells us one thing."
"They know," Lucien finished.
Marcus nodded. "And they'll come for it again."
Silence.
Then Mira spoke, her voice cold and steady.
"Good."
Everyone looked at her.
She turned from the window, her eyes blazing.
"Let them come. Let that bastard come for it."
She stepped forward, her gaze locking onto Marcus.
"You said in six days, Lucien faces one of them. The one who killed my family."
"Yes," Marcus said carefully.
"Then we kill him," Mira said. "Together. And we make him tell us what this key opens before he dies."
Renan didn't hesitate. "I'm with you."
Osman's lips curled into something that might have been a smile. "As am I. I have my own reasons to see these creatures fall."
Marcus looked at Lucien.
Lucien met his gaze, then nodded slowly. "It's my Trial. My fight. But if you're all willing to stand with me..."
"We are," Mira said firmly.
Marcus set the key down on the table. "Then we have six days to prepare."
They talked for another hour.
Strategy. Logistics. What they knew about the Shadow Knights. What they didn't.
It wasn't much.
Marcus shared what the Order had gathered over centuries... fragments, rumors, sightings. The Shadow Knights served a master. They controlled Old Jerusalem from within the Dome. They could create rifts, but crossing into the real world cost them immense energy.
"The one who attacked my family," Mira said quietly. "He shouldn't have been able to leave the Dome at all."
"No," Marcus agreed, his expression grim. "He shouldn't have. We still don't know how he managed it."
Osman spoke up, his voice low. "In Old Jerusalem, they move through the rifts with ease. But even there, it drains them. To cross fully into this world..." He shook his head. "It should be impossible."
Lucien listened in silence, his hand resting on the table.
Then Renan asked the question they were all thinking.
"What happens in six days? This... Trial. What is it?"
Lucien looked down at his palm, where the faint countdown glowed.
[Trial in 6 Days]
"I don't know," he admitted.
Marcus frowned. "You don't know?"
"The System showed me a message after I defeated the Ogre," Lucien said. "My skill... the one I still don't understand. It increased. And then it locked."
He gestured at the notification only he could see.
"Blocked at 8.33%. Trial in 7 Days. Now it's six."
"Trial," Mira repeated slowly. "Against what?"
"A Shadow Knight," Lucien said. "I think the System will summon one. Force a confrontation."
Marcus's eyes narrowed. "The System has never done anything like this before."
"I know."
"Then why..."
"Because of me," Lucien interrupted. His jaw tightened. "Because of what I am. Whatever this skill is... it's not normal. The System is reacting to it."
Silence fell over the room.
Mira leaned forward. "Do you know where it will happen?"
"No."
"When?"
"Six days from now. That's all I know."
Osman crossed his arms. "If the System summons a Shadow Knight to you... you'll be alone."
"Maybe," Lucien said. "Or maybe it pulls me somewhere. I don't know."
Mira's hand curled into a fist on the table. "Then we stay close. All of us. When it happens, we find you."
"Agreed," Renan said immediately.
Marcus nodded. "The Order has resources. I can arrange surveillance, tracking..."
"No," Lucien said firmly. "This is my Trial. My fight."
"You don't have to do it alone," Mira said, her voice sharp.
Lucien met her gaze. "I know. But if the System pulls me away... there's nothing you can do about it."
Her jaw clenched, but she didn't argue.
He exhaled slowly. "Six days. We prepare. And when the time comes..."
He looked at each of them in turn.
"I'll do what I have to."
The weight of those words hung in the air.
Then Lucien spoke again, his tone shifting slightly.
"But before that... I need a forge."
"I need a forge."
Everyone turned to look at him.
Marcus frowned. "A forge?"
"Yes," Lucien said. He glanced at Osman. "I need to create something. Before the Trial."
Mira's curiosity flickered across her face. "What?"
"A collar," Lucien said simply.
Osman's expression didn't change, but Lucien saw the faint nod. The understanding.
Mira looked between them, clearly puzzled, but didn't press.
Marcus studied Lucien for a moment, then nodded slowly. "I know someone. An artisan. He has a workshop not far from here. I can take you there tomorrow."
"Good," Lucien said.
Marcus stood. "For tonight, you can all stay here. There are rooms upstairs. Get some rest. We have a long week ahead."
One by one, they began to disperse.
Renan helped Mira gather her things. Osman moved toward the door without a word. Marcus busied himself locking away the key.
And Lucien stood in the center of the room, his hand resting on the hilt of Edge of the End.
Six days.
Six days until he faced the monster who had taken everything from Mira.
Six days until he took another step toward the truth.
He exhaled slowly.
Then he turned and followed the others upstairs.