Only I Can Weild A Forgotten Shadow Magic

I barely slept that night. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the sharp-eyed woman from Shard Tower staring at me like she could peel back my skin and see the shadows hiding underneath.

The System didn't help. It kept running "calculations" in the background, occasionally chiming in with some vague warning like [Further exposure increases risk of elimination] or [Strategic relocation may be necessary].

Yeah, thanks, System. Super comforting.

By the time dawn rolled around, I gave up on sleep entirely. The tension in my chest felt like a spring wound too tight, and my brain wouldn't shut up about how screwed I was. The woman at Shard Tower knew something. I didn't know what, but I could feel it.

Which meant two things:

1. I needed answers.

2. I needed them fast.

"Alright," I muttered to myself, sitting cross-legged on my mattress. "If I'm going to survive this, I need a plan."

The shadows in the corners of the room seemed to ripple in response, like they were waiting for me to say something brilliant. Spoiler: I wasn't about to.

"System," I said. "What's the next step? More training?"

[Training is essential but insufficient. Host must acquire information about current threats.]

"Information? Like what?"

[Identify those hunting you. Understand their capabilities. Exploit their weaknesses.]

"Right. And how exactly am I supposed to do that?" I asked, gesturing to the disaster that was my apartment. "You might've noticed, but I'm not exactly swimming in resources here."

[Resource acquisition is a secondary objective. Focus on intelligence gathering.]

"Great, so I'm broke and clueless. Awesome combo."

The System didn't respond, which I took as its version of shrugging. Typical.

I stood up, pacing the room. If the System wanted information, I'd have to start somewhere—and that somewhere was the fire-slinging enforcer who'd tried to roast me alive two nights ago.

"Alright," I said, pulling on my hoodie. "Let's go for a walk."

---

The alley where it had all gone down looked worse in daylight. The scorched bricks still smelled faintly of smoke, and the pavement was littered with shattered glass and bits of charred trash.

I stood there, staring at the burn marks, trying to piece together what had happened. The enforcer had found me so fast—like he'd known exactly where to look. But how?

"System," I said, glancing around to make sure no one was nearby. "Can you scan for… I don't know, magical residue or something?"

[Host lacks the ability to perform scans independently. However, shadow perception can detect lingering energy signatures with sufficient focus.]

"Shadow perception? You could've mentioned that earlier."

[You did not ask.]

"Unbelievable," I muttered, closing my eyes. "Alright, fine. How do I use it?"

[Focus your intent. Shadows are attuned to disruption. Feel for irregularities in the flow.]

"Clear as mud, thanks."

I took a deep breath, trying to block out the noise of the city around me. It wasn't easy—horns blared in the distance, and someone was yelling about a parking ticket down the street—but after a few seconds, I felt… something.

The shadows around me seemed to shift, growing darker and colder. It wasn't just the absence of light—it was like they were alive, stretching toward a faint trace of energy lingering on the burned walls.

When I opened my eyes, the world looked different. The alley was the same, but there was a faint, glowing trail weaving through it—like ghostly embers fading in and out of sight.

"Whoa," I breathed, following the trail.

It led me down the alley, through a broken chain-link fence, and into an abandoned warehouse. The place was massive, its concrete floor littered with graffiti and old beer cans.

And in the center of the room was a scorch mark, glowing faintly with the same ember-like energy.

"That's not creepy at all," I said, stepping closer.

[Residual energy confirms this location was used as a casting site. Offensive magic of this scale requires a focus or catalyst.]

"A focus? Like a magical tool?"

[Correct. The enforcer likely required a summoning glyph or artifact to stabilize the spell. Examine the area for clues.]

I crouched near the scorch mark, squinting at the faint symbols burned into the floor. They looked like runes, but nothing I recognized.

"System, can you translate this?"

[Translation unavailable. These runes are classified under restricted shadow archives.]

"Restricted? By who?"

[Arcanum Council.]

Of course. The same people who wanted me dead.

I took a photo of the runes with my phone (because hey, who knows when they might come in handy?) and started poking around the warehouse. Most of it was empty, but in one corner, I found a crumpled piece of paper shoved under a pile of old crates.

It was covered in messy handwriting, with what looked like a list of coordinates and dates.

"System," I said, holding up the paper. "What's this?"

[Analysis suggests these coordinates may represent locations of recent magical activity. Further investigation is required.]

"Magical activity? You think these enforcers are using spots like this to hunt people?"

[Possibly. Patterns suggest coordinated operations targeting unstable or rogue magic users.]

I shoved the paper into my pocket, my mind racing. If these enforcers had a pattern, I could use it to stay one step ahead—or, if I was feeling suicidal, to strike first.

Before I could decide, a noise behind me made me freeze.

The shadows stirred, rippling like a warning.

I turned slowly, my heart pounding, and saw a figure standing in the doorway. They were cloaked in black, their face obscured by a hood. But the faint glow of blue energy around their hands told me everything I needed to know.

Another enforcer.

"Crap," I muttered.

The enforcer stepped forward, their voice cold and detached. "Kai Rivers. By order of the Arcanum Council, you are under arrest for unauthorized use of forbidden magic."

I swallowed hard, the shadows coiling around me like snakes. "Yeah? Well, you're gonna have to work for it."

The enforcer didn't reply. They raised one glowing hand, and the air around them shimmered with heat.

"System," I whispered. "Any advice?"

[Win.]

"Gee, thanks!"

The enforcer moved first, launching a blast of blue fire straight at my face. I dove to the side, the flames searing the air where I'd just been standing.

"Okay," I said, scrambling to my feet. "Let's see what these shadows can do."

This time, I didn't wait for the System to guide me. I let the shadows move on instinct, lashing out in jagged, whip-like tendrils. The enforcer deflected them with a wave of their hand, but I could tell they weren't expecting me to fight back.

"Not so easy, huh?" I taunted, dodging another fireball.

The fight was chaotic, the warehouse filling with smoke and flickering shadows. The enforcer was fast, but they were too flashy—every move they made left them open for just a second too long.

Finally, I saw my chance. As they raised their hand for another spell, I sent a shadow tendril slicing toward their leg. It hit, wrapping around their ankle and yanking them off balance.

They hit the ground hard, the glow around their hands flickering.

I didn't wait for them to recover. I sprinted out of the warehouse, the shadows covering my retreat like a living cloak.

By the time I made it back to the street, my chest was heaving, and my legs felt like jelly.

"System. Still think training was a waste of time?"

[Host's survival suggests otherwise.]

I leaned against a wall, catching my breath. I'd won this round—but the enforcers weren't going to stop coming.

If I wanted to survive, I needed more than shadows.

I needed a plan.