Seth descended again into the street, where the rain had left a thin film of dirty water and mud everywhere.
The silence of the city at that hour was oppressive — only the distant sound of tram wheels scraping the rails betrayed that the world still breathed.
He bent down, carefully studying the asphalt.
At the street corner, where he had lost them, he noticed strange tracks — not boots, not shoes — but long, slightly sunken marks, like claws dragged across the wet earth.
Seth passed his hand over them without touching.
He felt the air vibrating faintly, like a wrong musical note in a finely tuned orchestra.
They're still close.
They haven't pulled far away.
Without hesitation, he followed their trail.
Each step was guided not just by what he saw, but by a newly awakened sense in him — a sensitivity to the distortions in reality, to the marks left by the deformed creatures.
He passed a semi-abandoned square, then through an alley where ancient graffiti spoke of freedom in a world that had forgotten what it meant.
And then, at the edge of his vision, he saw them.
The three hunters had gathered in an abandoned yard, under a collapsed concrete structure, whispering harshly.
Around them, the air was denser, darker, as if the city itself was trying to isolate them from the rest of the world.
Seth pressed against the wall of a building and listened.
One of them, the tall one, spoke:
— We lost the kid, but I felt what came over us. It's not just a woke one. It's... ancient. Too ancient.
Another, with a lower voice:
— We have to report it. The Council won't tolerate the existence of a free Apex. Chaos will be born.
The last one laughed briefly:
— Maybe chaos is exactly what we need.
Seth clenched his fists.
The Council?
Is there an organized structure behind these creatures?
It was no longer just about lost monsters.
It was bigger than he had imagined.
Seth lowered his breath, preparing his body.
Every fiber tensed beneath his skin.
He had to be quick. Without hesitation. Without mercy.
He chose his target: the smallest of them, with nervous, unsure movements, always staying at the edge of the circle formed by the other two.
The weak one.
The one who would give in most easily.
Seth slinked through the shadows, approaching the ruins flanking the yard.
He waited for the moment when the other two turned their heads, captivated by their conversation — and then he attacked.
A silent explosion of movement.
In an instant, he grabbed the weaker hunter by the collar and shoulder, using brute strength augmented by the fire in his blood.
The creature barely managed a short, strangled scream before Seth isolated it in a dark corner, hiding its presence from the others.
In the hunter's eyes, pure terror gleamed.
Fear of the Apex.
Fear of what Seth was becoming.
He slammed it lightly against the wall, holding it tightly, not giving it a chance to break free.
— Speak, Seth mumbled, his voice vibrating with emerging power.
— Who are you? What is the Council?
The hunter tried to turn its face, to hide its now completely black eyes, but Seth activated Ancient Eye for a moment.
His gaze pierced the hunter's being — and what he saw inside was not human.
It was a torn form, corrupted by promises of power and blood, still held in check by something bigger. By someone.
— We can't tell you... the creature whispered. They've bound us with seals. If we speak of the Council... we melt from the inside.
Seth furrowed his brows.
— Then give me a name. Or a place. A sign.
The creature hesitated, squirming beneath Seth's grip, and then, in a desperate act, whispered:
— Oblivion... The Hall of Silence... at the edge of Sector 3...
And in that same moment, the hunter's body shook violently.
From within its chest, an invisible force exploded, tearing the flesh, shattering the bones.
Seth pulled back, muttering a curse through his teeth, as the creature's body fell lifeless onto the asphalt.
A deadly seal.
A self-destruct system.
The Council left no witnesses.
Seth clenched his fists, letting the rage pour through his veins like poison he was not allowed to let burst forth.
Not now.
He turned his back on the creature's lifeless body and walked back through the city's damp streets.
His thoughts buzzed.
Oblivion. The Hall of Silence. Sector 3.
Soon... soon that place would burn to the ground.
But first — Lucas.
Every step toward Victor's apartment was a fight against the urge to go hunting immediately.
But Seth knew: if the boy was in danger, then everything he had done so far would have been for nothing.
Reaching the building, Seth felt a slight unease vibrating in the air.
He stopped.
He listened.
No movement at the windows.
No sound beyond the walls.
Slowly, he climbed the stairs and knocked on the door with the same signal: three short knocks.
Victor opened after a few seconds, his eyes tired and bloodshot from sleeplessness.