Embrace of the void

Michael and Nyxar sat at the dining table, a detailed map of the orc village spread out before them. The air was thick with tension as they deliberated their next move.

 "We need to change our plan," Nyxar said, urgency in his voice. "We can't wait any longer. We have to eliminate the orc chief and steal his body. Once you reach the top of rank E+, we can use your undead revival skill."

Michael nodded, absorbing the gravity of the situation. "If our objective is just to kill the orc chief and his guard, we can devise a strategy for a covert assassination."

Nixar chuckled, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "I'll leave the planning to you. I have something else to attend to."

Michael raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "What do you mean?"

 "I'm going to investigate who's supporting the orcs," Nyxar replied, his tone serious.

"How will you do that?" Michael asked, concerned.

"I'll meet up with some old acquaintances," Nyxar said cryptically.

"Is that safe?" Michael inquired, skepticism evident in his voice.

"Don't worry," Nyxar assured him. "I'll head to the black market. My former organization has a network of informants there. I won't have to show my face; I'll just use codes and secret phrases to gain access and gather information."

"Just be careful," Michael cautioned, his mind racing with potential risks.

"I'll need to borrow your mask," Nyxar added, his expression turning serious.

Without hesitation, Michael retrieved the mask and tossed it to him. "If you come across another mask like this one in the black market, buy it. We might need it."

"Understood. What are you planning to do in the meantime?" Nyxar asked, shifting the focus.

"I'll meditate to absorb mana and work on raising my rank. I need to refine my techniques, especially Nightfall Doom and Dimensional Redirect. We'll need them for what's coming," Michael replied, determination in his tone.

 "Just be cautious," Nyxar warned. "Rushing through ranks isn't wise. You need to stabilize before attempting another breakthrough. And avoid using space and void techniques; we don't want any powerful awakened ones sensing fluctuations."

"Don't worry. I won't touch the void element, and I'll manage the space techniques," Michael promised.

"Alright, then. I'll see you later." With a swift motion, Nyxar activated his innate ability, Dark Teleportation, vanishing in a swirl of dark smoke.

Michael stared at the spot where his companion had just stood, the weight of their mission settling heavily on his shoulders. Resolute, he rose from the table, ready to immerse himself in training at home.

Niyxar's innate ability,{Dark Teleportation}, was a refined technique that harnessed the elements of darkness and space. It allowed him to traverse great distances silently, without causing any disturbances in the fabric of space. At his current level, he could teleport within a radius of 500 meters, but he relied on his {Void Senses} skill to ensure he materialized safely, avoiding walls or unexpected company.

As he navigated through the shadows, Nyxar continued to teleport, feeling the strain of his mana begin to wane. After draining more than half of his reserves, he arrived at his destination.

Emerging from the shadows, Nyxar found himself in front of a large bar bustling with activity. The entrance was flanked by numerous guards and patrons imbibing heavily. Adjusting the mask he had borrowed from Michael, he stepped forward, disregarding the cold stares of the guards.

Inside, the bar was alive with chatter. Some patrons were there seeking work, while others simply wanted a drink. Nyxar settled onto a barstool and summoned the waitress.

The waitress approached, her gaze lingering on Nyxar, yet she seemed unfazed by his mask.

 "How can I help you?" she inquired.

 "What's the special dish for today?" Nyxar asked, his tone casual.

 "That depends on how much you're willing to spend," she replied, a hint of curiosity in her voice.

 "Don't worry, I have enough," he assured her.

 "Follow me," she instructed, leading him away from the bar.

As they walked, their conversation veered toward the secret words required to access the black market.

They descended into the bar's basement, arriving at a door guarded by a man in his late thirties. Despite his disheveled appearance and the strong scent of alcohol that clung to him, Nixar recognized the unmistakable aura of an awakened individual; this man was ranked A.

"Why don't you show us your face, my friend? Take off that mask and dazzle us with your beauty," the guard said with a sarcastic grin.

 "My beauty is capable of raising the dead. You don't need to see it, you damned fool. Why don't you keep your mouth shut and do your job?" Nyxar retorted fiercely.

The guard chuckled, his demeanor shifting. "Continue, Julia. I'll handle this from here."

"Okay," the waitress replied, retreating to her duties.

"Follow me," the guard instructed, clearing some boxes to reveal a wooden trapdoor. He gestured for Nyxar to descend first, leading him down a set of stairs into the tunnels beneath the bar.

They moved through the dimly lit tunnels in silence, reaching another door guarded by two more sentinels. The initial guard turned to Nyxar. "You'll need to pay the fees now. You can enter on your own. My task ends here."

Without a second glance, the guard returned to his post, indifferent to Nyxar's presence.

Nyxar paid the entrance fees, and the guards opened the door, granting him passage into the hidden world beyond.

As he stepped through, Nyxar found himself in what resembled an underground city—a sprawling black market teeming with merchants, assassination syndicates, research factions, and a variety of thieves and con artists. The city thrived under the rule of a powerful Awakened ranked S, casting a shadow over the dealings within.

Determined, Nyxar began his journey through the labyrinthine streets, intent on uncovering the information he desperately sought.