Chapter 120: Sudden Fight and Some Pondering
The city of Elandra held its breath.
Just before dawn, with the streets still cloaked in fog and lamplight, Inigo stood alone on the rooftop above the inn, his M4 Carbine slung tight against his chest. He had felt it the moment he stirred—no, even before that. Something primal, coiling in his gut. A wrongness in the air. Like static before a storm.
His finger rested against the trigger guard, tense. The street below was too quiet. No footsteps. No carts. Even the usual echo of stray cats or drunken wanderers was absent. A silence not born of peace—but of expectation.
Then it came. A ripple through the fog. A presence that didn’t belong.
Inigo pivoted sharply.
Across the narrow rooftop gaps, perched atop a stone chimney, was a figure cloaked in gray-black threads that clung to it like smoke. It didn’t move like a man. Too fluid. Too perfect. Its hood fluttered slightly in the breeze, revealing a pale, mask-like face with faintly glowing orange eyes.
Inigo’s breath froze in his throat.
Then—action.
He raised his M4 and fired a controlled burst.
The rounds cracked like thunder, shattering roof tiles and hammering the space where the figure stood—but it wasn’t there. The Shade twisted impossibly midair and dropped silently onto the cobblestone street below.
Inigo cursed and scrambled after it, vaulting across ledges and down an awning. He landed in a crouch, rifle raised.