Chapter 71: The Agreement

The address led them to a small house at the end of a dead-end street, all of its windows covered with wooden boards from the inside.

Darian stood in front of the house for a moment and glanced back at the street.

The place was too quiet.

There were no voices, no cars, not even the sound of footsteps besides their own. The surrounding houses were closed as well, with some windows hidden behind thick curtains, as if the residents had gotten used to never looking outside.

His eyes returned to the small house.

"Are you sure this is the place?" Darian asked.

Cassian pulled the paper from his pocket and looked at it for the third time.

"The paper says so."

"That’s not exactly reassuring."

"I’m not trying to reassure you."

Darian raised an eyebrow, but Cassian was already walking toward the door.

It was obvious that he knew this place, or at least knew the person inside. And yet, he didn’t look comfortable.

That alone was enough to make Darian more cautious.

Cassian knocked on the door.

Twice.

A pause.

Then once.

They waited in silence.

One second.

Two.

Then the door opened with unexpected speed, revealing a man standing behind it, holding a long metal object raised directly toward Darian’s face.

Darian froze in place and instinctively took a step back.

"Who are you?"

"Cassian sent me," Darian answered quickly.

The man lowered the weapon slightly, but he didn’t let go of it.

He looked at Cassian, then back at Darian.

His eyes moved between Darian’s face, Cassian’s clothes, and his hands, as if searching for any sign that would prove whether his words were true.

"Why did Cassian send you?"

"To ask you a question."

"You came all this way for one question?"

"Maybe more."

"Then it isn’t one question."

Darian paused.

"I don’t know."

For the first time, something resembling a faint smile appeared on the man’s face.

"At least you’re honest."

He opened the door wider.

"Come in."

Cassian entered first, followed by Darian.

The first thing Darian noticed was the smell of old wood.

The house was smaller than he had expected. Almost everything was contained within a single room. There was one table in the center, two chairs, and a small lamp hanging above them.

The opposite wall was covered with papers, maps, and photographs.

Darian stopped at the entrance for a moment.

He had seen maps like these before.

With Cassian.

But there were far more of them here.

Much more.

Different areas were marked with different symbols. There were street names, dates, small notes written in hurried handwriting, and photographs of people Darian didn’t recognize.

"Owen?" Darian asked.

The man looked at him.

"Yes."

Owen sat on one of the chairs and placed the weapon on the table in front of him, though his hand remained close to it.

He was younger than Darian had expected.

Not much older than Cassian.

But his eyes looked far more exhausted.

There was something in his gaze that made Darian feel as though he had seen more than someone his age should have.

A long scar ran down his neck and disappeared beneath the collar of his shirt.

Darian sat across from him.

Cassian remained standing.

"You want to know what agreeing means," Owen said, without waiting for Darian to ask.

Darian looked at him with interest.

"Cassian sends every newcomer to me."

He paused.

"I’m the example."

"The example?"

"The person who explains what might happen after you say yes."

Darian glanced at the weapon on the table.

"And you agreed to this?"

"I didn’t have another choice."

"There’s always a choice."

"No."

The answer came immediately.

Owen raised his eyes to Darian.

"Someone has to tell the truth."

Silence filled the room.

Darian wasn’t sure whether Owen meant the truth about the agreement or the truth about himself.

Maybe both.

"All right."

Darian took a slow breath.

"Tell me."

Owen reached for his sleeve and began rolling it up.

His entire arm was covered with small scars layered over one another.

Some were old.

Others still had a different color from the surrounding skin.

Darian said nothing.

He had expected words.

He hadn’t expected proof.

"Two years," Owen said.

He ran a finger over one of the scars.

"Fourteen kills."

Darian looked at him.

"Two of them almost killed me."

"And then?"

Owen lowered his sleeve.

"And then I’m still alive."

Darian remained silent.

The sentence was too simple.

So simple that it felt worse than any long explanation.

"That’s everything?"

Owen shook his head.

"Not everything."

He stood and walked toward the wall.

He stopped in front of a photograph hanging between two maps.

It showed a young man in his mid-twenties, smiling at the camera in an ordinary picture.

There was nothing special about the photograph.

And somehow, that was what made Darian keep looking at it.

"My younger brother."

Owen’s voice changed.

Not much.

But enough.

"He died before I agreed."

Darian looked at him.

"Not after."

Owen kept staring at the photograph.

"That’s why I agreed."

"For him?"

"So no one else in my family would ever be put in the same situation."

Darian felt something heavy settle in his chest.

He could have asked how his brother died.

He could have asked who was responsible.

But somehow, he felt that those questions weren’t his to ask.

Instead, he said,

"Did he know what you’re doing now?"

"No."

"No one?"

"No one in my family knows."

Owen returned to his seat.

"That’s part of the agreement."

"You have to hide it from them?"

"You don’t tell anyone about what happens here."

"Even if they need to know?"

"Especially if they need to know."

Darian frowned.

"Why?"

"Because knowing isn’t always protection."

Owen looked at him.

"Sometimes knowing makes someone a target."

The sentence remained hanging in the air.

Darian stayed silent.

Cassian had been quiet the entire time.

That was strange.

Darian noticed that whenever Owen said something important, Cassian never tried to correct him.

As if he deliberately wanted Darian to hear it from someone who had lived through it, rather than someone trying to convince him.

"Do you regret it?"

The question came out of Darian almost automatically.

Owen didn’t answer immediately.

This time, he actually thought about it.

He looked at the photograph of his brother.

Then at the scars hidden beneath his sleeve.

Then back at Darian.

"No."

His answer was quiet.

"But I’m tired."

He paused.

"Those two things aren’t the same."

Darian looked down.

The sentence stayed in his mind.

Not regretful.

Just tired.

There was a big difference between the two.

Before he could say anything, they heard a light knock against the window.

Tap.

Then silence.

Owen immediately stood.

The calmness in his eyes disappeared.

His hand went to the weapon.

Cassian looked toward the window.

"They’re here earlier than expected."

His voice was different.

There was a new tension in it.

Owen approached the window and looked through one of the small gaps between the wooden boards.

He remained silent for several seconds.

"Not them."

"Are you sure?" Cassian asked.

"One."

Owen continued watching.

"Weak."

Darian stood.

"Weak?"

Owen looked at him.

"Wait."

He moved toward the door and opened it carefully.

He stepped outside.

Cassian followed.

Darian went after them.

The thing was standing in the middle of the dead-end street.

It was much smaller than anything Darian had seen before.

It could barely stand on its own.

Its body trembled constantly, as though it had only just learned how to maintain its shape.

Darian stopped.

For a moment, he expected the danger to be obvious.

But it wasn’t.

The thing wasn’t advancing.

It might not even have been capable of moving.

"Born an hour ago, maybe less."

Owen watched it carefully.

"Far too weak."

Darian stared at the thing.

Strangely, he didn’t feel afraid.

There was another feeling.

Something closer to pity.

"Can I?"

Owen looked at Cassian.

A silent question passed between them.

Cassian remained silent for a moment.

Then he said,

"Try it."

Darian began moving.

One step.

Then another.

He remembered the instructions.

Don’t rush.

Don’t give the thing a chance to surprise you.

With every step, the creature seemed to shrink further.

As if it could somehow sense that the person approaching it was different.

Darian extended his hand.

For a moment, he stopped before touching it.

He looked at his fingers.

Then at the creature.

He touched it.

A slight pressure.

The creature dissolved into a thin layer of ash that disappeared into the air.

No sound.

No resistance.

It didn’t even give Darian enough time to understand what had happened.

He remained standing there.

Staring at his empty hand.

"That was too easy."

Owen’s voice came from behind him.

"Not all of them will be like that."

Darian turned toward him.

"But that’s what makes it worth doing."

Owen stood near the doorway.

"Some of them are simple."

He paused.

"And you stop them before they become something else."

Darian said nothing.

He looked at the empty street.

There was no trace left of the creature, as if it had never existed there in the first place.

The four of them returned to the house.

They sat around the table again.

Dawn had begun to appear beneath the wooden boards covering the windows.

A thin line of light entered the room and slowly spread across the floor.

Darian remained silent.

That simple encounter should have reassured him.

Instead, it had done the opposite.

If that had been the easiest example...

What would happen when he encountered something stronger?

He looked at Cassian.

"Time’s up."

The words brought him back to the moment.

He knew the decision was his now.

Not Cassian’s.

Not Owen’s.

His.

He thought about his sister.

About the unfinished message he had started writing but never completed.

He could go back.

He could refuse.

He could say that he wasn’t ready.

Then he thought about Owen.

The scars on his arm.

His brother who had died before he agreed.

And the thing he had seen in the street.

It had been weak.

But what if no one had stopped it?

What would have happened?

Maybe nothing.

Maybe the opposite.

The problem was that Darian didn’t know.

And that was what bothered him the most.

No one here had promised him that the road would be easy.

No one had told him it would be safe.

And no one had tried to make him believe that everything had some beautiful meaning behind it.

The choice was simply clear.

He knew part of the truth.

He could turn back.

Or he could continue, knowing that the truth was much larger than the part he had seen.

He raised his eyes.

"I agree."

No one said anything for a second.

Cassian kept looking at him.

"Are you sure?"

Darian gave a small smile, without any real confidence behind it.

"No."

He paused.

"But I agree anyway."

Owen stared at him for a long moment.

Then he nodded.

As if he had heard the same sentence before.

Maybe from someone else.

Maybe from himself.

Cassian extended his hand.

Darian looked at it for a moment before shaking it.

A short handshake.

No celebration.

No congratulations.

No one told him that he had just entered a new world.

But Darian felt it.

"Then we begin."

Outside the house, dawn was slowly rising.

And Darian still didn’t know that this agreement was only the first step.