The wind howled as Alexander landed on the rooftop of a nearby building, his boots making no sound as he absorbed the impact with supernatural grace. The city stretched below him, vibrant and oblivious, its neon lights flickering like stars against the backdrop of the sprawling urban jungle. A second later, Vasili landed behind him, his form a seamless extension of the darkness itself, his movement entirely silent, as if gravity no longer held sway over him. He was no longer bound by the limitations of flesh, and it showed.
Alexander cast a glance over his shoulder, his glowing violet eyes locking onto his newly reborn shadow. "How does it feel?" he asked, curious about Vasili's perspective now that he had transcended mortality.
Vasili straightened, his gaze unwavering. "Effortless, my king. My body no longer fatigues. I move as the shadows do—without resistance, without limitation. I exist only to serve."
Alexander smirked. "Good. Then let's put that to the test."
Below them, the city bustled with life, its people completely unaware of the predator that now prowled above. Neon lights flickered, cars rushed through the streets, and distant sirens wailed like ghosts lamenting in the night. This was the world that Alexander was slowly beginning to see from a different perspective—not just as a man within it, but as something beyond. Something greater.
He scanned the streets, his eyes settling on a warehouse district near the city's outskirts. It was an area known for its less-than-legal activities. He had done his research before—trafficking, smuggling, and underground dealings happened there in the shadows, unchecked and unnoticed. The perfect breeding ground for criminals who thrived in the dark.
A perfect place to test Vasili's capabilities.
"Let's go hunting," Alexander murmured before stepping off the rooftop.
The descent should have been fatal, but his body was far from ordinary now. He landed with feline grace in the alley below, his presence causing not even a ripple in the surrounding noise. Vasili followed suit, materializing beside him, silent as a phantom. The air in the alley was thick with the scent of damp pavement and distant gasoline fumes. It was the smell of the underworld—dirty, raw, and utterly exposed.
Moving through the darkened streets, Alexander's senses sharpened. The world felt more alive than ever—every sound, every heartbeat within a block's radius was detectable. He could hear the faint conversations of a group inside the warehouse, the clinking of metal against metal as crates were shifted, and the nervous pacing of a guard near the entrance. It was intoxicating, this heightened awareness, this knowledge that he was no longer limited to human frailty.
They reached the edge of the warehouse district, where the scent of oil and steel lingered thick in the air. The faint glow of cigarette embers marked the presence of guards stationed at the perimeters, their casual demeanor betraying the fact that they did not expect trouble. Fools.
Alexander observed them for a moment before turning to Vasili. "Eliminate the sentries. Do it silently."
Vasili nodded once and then vanished.
Alexander watched, intrigued by the methodical efficiency of his first shadow. Vasili moved through the night like liquid shadow, his form seamlessly blending into the darkness. The first guard barely had time to exhale his next breath before a blade of condensed shadow pierced his throat, silencing him instantly. The second fell just as quickly, dragged into the abyss before he even realized he was no longer alone.
The warehouse entrance was now unguarded. Vasili reappeared at Alexander's side, his expression as unreadable as ever. "It is done."
Alexander nodded approvingly. The ease with which Vasili dispatched his targets confirmed what he had suspected—his army would be unparalleled.
He turned his attention to the warehouse doors, the first real test of his reign standing before him. He could sense multiple heartbeats inside, their rhythm steady, unaware of the doom creeping toward them. Conversations floated through the thick metal walls, men discussing shipments, profits, and territorial disputes. They had no idea what was about to descend upon them.
Alexander's fingers curled slightly, the air around him darkening as the shadows reacted to his will. The power within him pulsed, eager, hungry. This was not just a hunt—it was the first declaration of his reign.
A slow smile crept onto his lips. "Let's make an impression."
Without another word, he pushed the warehouse doors open and stepped inside.
Tonight, the underworld would learn that the shadows had found their master.
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