Romero: Echoes Of The Void

Chapter 14: A Name in the Shadows

Blood dripped from John's wound, the cut burning against the cold night air. He ignored the pain, his cold black eyes locked on the empty space where the assassin had vanished.

Who sent them?

The words echoed in his mind.

"He was not supposed to survive."

John clenched his jaw. Someone out there wanted him dead, and they had just sent a professional killer to make it happen.

Starla crossed her arms, golden eyes narrowed. "You gonna stand there all night, brooding?"

John exhaled, finally moving. "We need answers."

Starla smirked. "Finally, something we agree on." She reached into her pocket and tossed him a small cloth. "Wrap it up before you bleed out on the street."

John caught it and pressed it against his wound. "We need to find out who that was."

"I might have an idea." Starla's expression darkened slightly. "Come on."

She turned and started walking toward the darker part of the city.

John hesitated for only a moment before following.

---

The Black Alley

They walked through Romero's streets, leaving the crowded main roads behind. The further they went, the quieter it became. The Rift-lamps flickered weaker here, casting long shadows.

Eventually, they stopped in front of a small, rundown shop. The wooden sign above the door was barely readable.

The Black Alley Exchange.

John raised an eyebrow. "This place doesn't look promising."

Starla grinned. "That's the point." She pushed the door open. "Come on."

Inside, the air smelled of old parchment and burning incense. Shelves lined the walls, filled with strange trinkets, scrolls, and weapons. At the back, an old man sat behind a counter, his wrinkled hands slowly flipping through a book.

His cloudy gray eyes lifted when they entered.

"Well, well," he said in a slow, raspy voice. "Look what the wind dragged in."

Starla leaned on the counter. "We need information."

The old man raised an eyebrow. "Information isn't free."

John pulled out a small pouch of coins and tossed it onto the counter. "Talk."

The old man chuckled. "Straight to the point. I like that." He tapped his fingers on the table. "What do you want to know?"

John met his gaze. "A masked assassin attacked me tonight. They moved like a shadow, and their voice—" he hesitated, remembering the eerie distortion—"was unnatural."

The old man's fingers stopped tapping.

Starla frowned. "You know something."

The man sighed, leaning back. "Sounds like someone hired a Shade Reaper."

John narrowed his eyes. "Shade Reaper?"

The old man nodded. "A secretive group of killers. No one knows where they come from, but their targets almost never survive. If you lived… you weren't their only job tonight."

John processed that. "So someone paid them to kill me?"

The old man shrugged. "Someone powerful." He glanced between John and Starla. "I'd be careful. If they failed once, they'll try again."

Starla smirked. "They can try."

John stayed silent, his mind racing. Someone powerful wanted him dead.

But who?

And why?

---

The Warning

They left the Black Alley Exchange and stepped into the cool night air. The city was quieter now, the streets nearly empty.

John spoke first. "You knew that guy."

Starla shrugged. "He's a good source for underground info."

John rolled his shoulders, feeling the dull pain of his wound. "So now what?"

Starla stretched. "We wait."

John raised an eyebrow. "For what?"

She smirked. "For them to come to us."

John sighed, but deep down, he agreed. Whoever hired the assassin wouldn't stop. He had overloaded the Resonance Stones, survived the Crucible selection, and now escaped an assassination attempt.

He wasn't just making enemies.

He was drawing attention.

Suddenly—

A chill ran down his spine.

He stopped walking.

A presence was nearby.

Starla noticed his sudden tension. "John?"

Then—

A voice whispered through the darkness.

"Leave Romero… or die."

John spun, hand gripping his sword.

But no one was there.

The air felt heavy, suffocating.

Then, just as suddenly, it was gone.

Starla cursed. "That was Rift energy."

John exhaled slowly, his fingers loosening on his sword. His cold black eyes narrowed. "They're watching."

Starla smirked. "Good. Let them."

John looked up at the dark sky above Romero.

He wasn't afraid.

But he was ready.

Whoever wanted him gone had just made their first mistake.

They failed.

And next time, he'd be the one hunting them.