The night air was cold as Kael and Vaelin moved through the dense forest, far from the Obsidian Veil's stronghold. The Syndicate knew where to find them now. Staying in one place would be a death sentence.
Kael's mind was still reeling from the fight with Ren. The Syndicate had turned his friend into a weapon, just as they had done to him. But now, he was free—and he would not fight this war alone.
There were others.
Others like him.
Others who had survived the Syndicate's conditioning… or had managed to escape before it consumed them.
It was time to find them.
The First Name: Orin "The Phantom"
Vaelin led Kael to an old hideout deep in the mountains. The entrance was disguised as a collapsed ruin, but once inside, Kael saw remnants of a forgotten rebellion—dust-covered weapons, abandoned maps, and the markings of those who had once fought the Syndicate.
"Orin used to run with us," Vaelin explained as he lit a torch. "Back when we thought we could take them down. He was our best infiltrator. Could slip through walls like a ghost."
Kael scanned the room. "What happened?"
Vaelin sighed. "We lost. He barely escaped with his life."
Kael met his gaze. "And now?"
"He's in the Eastern Wastes. Off the grid. He won't trust us easily."
Kael's jaw tightened. "Then I'll make him trust us."
---
The Eastern Wastes
Days later, Kael stood on the outskirts of a ruined settlement. The wind howled through shattered stone and rusted metal. The place had been abandoned for years.
But Kael knew better.
Someone was watching.
He stepped forward, his movements slow, deliberate. "Orin. I know you're here."
Silence.
Then—a whisper of movement.
Kael barely turned in time as a blade passed inches from his throat. A figure in dark, tattered clothes emerged from the ruins, his hood masking all but his piercing green eyes.
"You're either brave or stupid," Orin murmured, his voice edged with warning.
Kael didn't flinch. "I'm neither."
Orin studied him for a long moment. Then, with a flick of his wrist, his dagger disappeared into the folds of his cloak. "You fight like the Syndicate."
Kael's gaze hardened. "I used to be theirs."
A pause. Then, Orin smirked. "Then you're either a fool… or you're the only one reckless enough to fight back."
Kael took a step forward. "We're taking the war to them. Are you in?"
Orin's smirk faded. He glanced at Vaelin, then back to Kael.
"The Syndicate won't fall easily," he muttered. "You'll need more than just me."
Kael's expression didn't change. "Then let's find the rest."
---
The Next Target: Mira "The Crimson Fangs"
With Orin on their side, Kael and Vaelin set out for the next name on their list—Mira, once one of the Syndicate's top assassins, known for her dual crimson blades.
She had vanished years ago after a mission went wrong.
Now, rumors whispered of a warrior hunting Syndicate enforcers in the underground fight pits.
Kael's mission was clear—convince her to join their cause.
And if she refused?
Then he'd have to fight her himself.