That gnawing hunger that persisted constantly through every waking hour of Cade’s day was finally gone. It was a short-lived sense of contentment, but when it arrived, it was blissful. They’d starve Cade out again shortly, leaving that incurable pain lingering until, once again, they called upon him for the chance to claw at the crumbs of comfort. Cade’s faulty form was a punishment forever; only in those moments after feeding was he human again.

  Cade’s breath floated across the sky in small cloud-like puffs, waltzing their way forward in a never-ending dance. Maria’s tattered clothes became a napkin to wipe away the blood that clung to the sides of Cade's mouth, and once he finished, he flung the cloth into a lump by the door.

  A piece of the Homunculus would arrive soon. They had eyes everywhere, worse for those with an unsavoury record, and they were never far behind any incidents.

  From the corner of the roof, a pool of shadow formed, and a small figure clawed up from the darkness, stepping into the light. It walked around the scene on silent feet, its pale eyes a shade of moonlight darted around the scene, catching glimmers of light that reflected back at Cade, stopping in the middle of the roof. “A mess. A dastardly mess you have made again,”

  Cade gently traced his teeth with his finger, stopping when it passed over a stuck piece of bone. He pushed and flicked until it fell loose, then spat it away from the Homunculus and onto the ground. “I followed the rules. I always do,”

  Cade slowly peeled off the bloodstained clothes that clung to his skin, placing them into a small pile beside the Homunculus, and watched them sink into a puddle of shadow that formed around the clothes.

  ”Filthy,” The Homunculus says, reaching down into the shadows and dragging out a fresh set of clothes, placing them on the ledge beside Cade.

  Pulling on the fresh clothes and evening out the wrinkles, Cade looked back at the Homunculus that paced around the roof, darting from one end to the other. At the same time, it wrote across the air with thick dark ink that ran down like mascara in the rain, staining the air in a language Cade couldn’t understand. “A report will be made.”

  “Yes,” Cade says, straightening out his fresh clothes and standing up as if this wasn’t the routine that happened every time he went hunting.

  “You’ll be brought in for examination, and if you are found to have broken any rules…,” The Homunculus says, turning only halfway to meet Cade’s gaze. “There will be consequences,”

  “I know the rules,” Cade waves it off and heads back inside, as the Homunculus walks down into the shadows and disappears among the darkness.

  The gallery was busier now, people moving from one side to the other in a small wave. A single ever-stretching line of people, weaving between a teacher at one end, who tried her best to rally a group of small children who eagerly vibrated as if injected with pure glucose.

  The calm before the rush and before anyone questioned why Maria had vanished. They watched everyone heading in but cared little for those trying to leave, which made it easy to vanish into the city unbothered and into the downtown bustle.

  Cade walked in the opposite direction from everyone else. Staying low was the smart decision, and waiting for The Concord to find you. When the old gods fell, Mages took up the reins of the world, keeping tabs on everyone and anything magical. No one was safe from their gaze, and they rarely made exceptions to those who broke their rules.

  It would get colder soon; people dressed as if it would snow, but it seldom did here. Rain was a far more likely culprit to plan for, yet they prepared for snow. Cade walked towards the very edge of this place, towards the convention centre, which would remain dormant for a little while longer until the winter events began.

  Construction ads peeled off the building, swaying in the wind like tiny hands. They covered thick walls and plastered the whole sides of buildings. ‘Agiea construction.’ People probably thought it was some foreign company with a clever name. Few people would truly realize who was at the top of that pyramid, and the pompous woman who stole the name for herself.

  Cade’s mission was complete, so he roamed the street until he found a run-down building under construction as the sun began to set. While construction workers began funnelling out of the old building, Cade made his way up. His hands crackled as they expanded, his sharp nails dug into the side of the building, propelling him upwards as he crawled to the peak.

  There was an old TV set up on the top floor, and an old chunk of softer-looking material beside the TV, he flung himself onto, watching clumps of dust burst from all sides. Cade hit the run-down-looking remote against his palm a few times until the TV turned on. Awards show. Game show. Another channel, running the same awards show. All day weather. News.

  Holding his hand over the next channel button, he stopped. The news was better than awards shows, and at least he could let it fill the airtime while he waited for someone from The Concord to show up.

  It featured a well-dressed young woman sitting alone at a large curved table. Her face was one Cade couldn’t forget, whose voice was like a familiar hymn. Pheiea. She spoke with the same authority as when The Concord caught Cade. When no one would champion him, she rose and took charge of his defence with the same presence she held now.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  “Today’s top stories. City Hall signed a new contract, approved an additional 30 residential buildings, and expanded the docks amid civil unrest surrounding Agiea's construction. The demand for skilled labourers has never been higher, but some say this will attract the wrong types of people to this new area.”

  Pheiea continued with their next story as if the first was just a distant memory, and Cade remained seated, watching the ceiling. He couldn’t help but linger on the irony in Pheiea debasing her Mother’s company. What would people think if they knew who told them about their news?

  Birds flocked around Cade, picking away at crumbs and at a loaf of bread with a plastic shell. Cade sharpened a nail and ripped open the plastic, scattering slices of bread around him as the birds dove in to pick it apart.

  Cade watched the birds peck their meal eagerly, contort their heads, wait for the next scraps, and then fly away when nothing more came. Their noise was the only thing on a quiet night to bring Cade solace; not even the sounds of drunk partygoers exploding outside could reach him up here. He didn’t find restfulness tonight; anticipation of his examination nipped at his neck. They always opened the gates to The Concord in the wee hours of the night. A strange protocol to keep the one in question on their toes and exert their control over you.

  But the thing that arrived first wasn’t a bright light to whisk him away; it was a putrid scent that made Cade leap off his construction bed and put his head on a swivel, around the empty floor he was on. The scent was magical in nature, but wrong; something about it made Cade hesitant to investigate.

  The wide-open elevator shaft funnelled up the scent, from how far below Cade couldn’t tell. Contorting his arms and legs into their more natural form, he crawled forward, letting himself scale down towards its source. Cade descended the exterior of the building, the street below growing closer as he took his time looking at each floor before descending another.

  Floor by floor passed, until faint voices reached his ear. Cade was certain both the scent and the sound were the same, as he got just within range to hear them, clinging to the exterior of the building.

  “I told you everything I knew. My information hasn’t been wrong yet, and I always give you more than you ever asked for,” A frail man says, his words nearly faltering before they reached the open air.

  Cade reached the level where the people spoke, digging his claws into the roof and crawling towards them, just out of sight, but where he could see the shaking man with sweat dripping down his forehead, and two others standing above him.

  “Your information on smaller details has been good, but this was different. This was supposed to be a big break, but when we acted on your intel and put extra manpower into it, it failed. So I will ask you one more time,” A large man says, wearing a thick black coat that covered them from head to toe, stepped forward and pulling on the frail mans shirt. “Was your information incorrect, or did you let them know we were coming?”

  Cade could smell fire brewing in his lungs, smoke breaking free from his lips as he held the man firm. A creature for sure, and yet the smell emanating off the old woman beside him worried Cade more, a magical scent that made Cade flatten himself to the roof above them.

  “Just tell us the truth, young man. That’s all we require. Honesty,” The old woman says softly, caressing the fearful man's cheek.

  “Leb, I wouldn’t lie to you. I, too, see your vision for the future, and I have been nothing but your faithful servant,” The frail man says, gently leaning into the hand caressing his cheek and holding her hand. “I couldn’t have known,”

  “The child was supposed to be with two Tier 2 mages and some inconsequential creatures,” Leb says, kneeling beside the frail man and caressing his cheek. “But who did they run into when they arrived to grab the child? She Who Burns,”

  The frail man's heart was too loud; his nose began to trail blood as he looked up at Leb. “I couldn’t have known. There was no intel that she would be there. She’s unpredictable.”

  “So you are saying you aren’t able to figure out what their next move is?”

  “No one can know what the 5 founders of The Concord will do, no one but them,”

  “I understand,” Leb says, removing her hand and stepping to the side. “Celian, please thank Mr. Richard for his service and excuse him.”

  The man in the black coat stepped forward, looking down at the frail man. Fire brewed in his lungs like a pot filled to the full, and put over a raging flame. When he opened his mouth, fire erupted from him and scorched the frail man and everything around him in a torrent of flame.

  “We will have to try again,” Leb says, turning towards the edge of the floor, letting the wind wash over her. “Take me back to my work, before they come looking for him,” Leb raised her arms like a small child waiting to be picked up.

  Celian’s coat split, as wings large enough to halt the wind from reaching Cade sprang forth. Ceilien picked up Leb, flying out of the building with an unnatural gust of wind. Ungrappling from the roof, Cade fell onto the ground, walking towards the pile of scorched building where a man used to kneel. There was nothing left; the frail man was gone, and the fire had destroyed the concrete around him.

  Leb’s words sank in as he looked at the tattered ground. This person was a Concord employee whose vitals were monitored.

  Cade tried to move away from the site, but a light pierced the edge of his eyes, and a burst of sound sent him backwards. A man stepped out from the bursting white light, a mallet and skin drum fixed on his hip, and a glaive as long as he was tall tapped the ground.

  Cyox The Guardian of the Portal walked out of the light, and as he looked at Cade and the burned man beside him, Cade lowered himself, preparing for an attack.

  “Stand down,” Cyox says, taking a step forward and pointing his weapon towards Cade, tapping the glaive twice into the ground, making Cade’s whole body heavy, flattening him to the ground like invisible chains wrapped around his limbs, and locked him in place.

  Cade tried to say something, but the words wouldn’t form; there was nothing he could do against the Cyox, who stood over Cade, tapping his skin drum three times. A beam of light wrapped around them, and the final words that reached Cade's ear before the light overtook his sight. “Recall,”