Chapter 8 · First Void Settlement

"Sit. Now."

Silas didn't shout. He didn't have to. The command hit me like a physical blow, slamming my spine against the cold, obsidian-slick chair. The room was a void—no windows, no lamps, just a floating table of white marble that looked like it had been carved from a dead star.

I tried to shift, but my wrists were locked. Not with cuffs, but with something worse. Thin, shimmering threads of violet energy pulsed against my skin, humming with a frequency that made my teeth ache.

"You're late, Kane," Silas said. He was leaning back in a high-backed chair, his fingers steepled. He looked bored, which was the most terrifying thing about him. He didn't look like a monster. He looked like a CEO who had just decided which department to fire.

"I had a complication," I spat, squinting through the haze. "Lilith—"

"I don't pay for excuses. I pay for results. Or rather, you pay me for the privilege of existing." Silas leaned forward. The movement was too smooth, too predatory. He stopped inches from my face. I could smell something like ozone and old parchment. "The contract is clear. You hunt the breakers. You bring back the fragments.