"Ashes of the Unseen."

The city's underbelly was alive with whispers, but Riven moved through the streets like a ghost. He had memorized the warehouse's location from Seren's decrypted files. Now, as he stood before the rusted gates, he felt a weight settle in his chest. This wasn't just another mission. This was about the past—his past.

Lirian crouched beside him, eyes scanning the area. "You sure about this, Riven?" he asked. "Feels like walking into a trap."

"It probably is," Riven admitted, gripping the hilt of his dagger. "But we don't have time to wait."

Seren adjusted her weapon belt. "Then let's make it count."

They moved in silence, slipping past the guards like shadows. Inside, rows of towering crates stretched toward the ceiling, each marked with Echelon's insignia. The air smelled of dust and cold metal. Riven's pulse quickened. This was where the files had last mentioned his father's name.

A sudden shuffle of footsteps made them freeze. From the darkness, a figure emerged—a man clad in a sleek black uniform with a half-mask covering his face. He carried himself with precision, his eyes scanning the room before settling on them.

"Who are you?" the man asked, his voice smooth yet authoritative.

Riven stepped forward. "That depends. Who are you?"

The man tilted his head. "A question for a question. That means you're looking for something."

Lirian smirked. "We're looking for answers."

The masked man let out a small chuckle. "Then you're in the wrong place. Because the only thing people find here…" He reached for his side. "...is death."

In a flash, he threw a small metallic device toward them. Riven barely had time to react before it exploded into a thick smoke. The next moment, figures emerged from the shadows—mercenaries, at least ten of them.

"Ambush!" Seren shouted.

Blades clashed as the fight erupted. Riven dodged a swinging baton, countering with a swift cut from his dagger. Lirian knocked out two guards in a single motion, his movements effortless. Seren fired her modified pistol, taking down three opponents before ducking behind cover.

Riven locked eyes with the masked man, who hadn't moved. He wasn't a typical enemy. He was waiting. Watching.

"Who are you really?" Riven demanded.

The man chuckled again. "You'll find out soon enough."

Before Riven could react, the man vanished into the smoke. The remaining mercenaries fell one by one, and soon the warehouse was silent again.

Seren coughed, waving away the smoke. "Well, that was a mess."

Riven frowned. He had come here for answers, but all he had now were more questions. Who was that man? And why did he seem so familiar?

He looked down at his hands—at the blood, at the weight of what he was becoming.

This was just the beginning.