In the depths of Zalcien, below its putrid slums, in the ruins of the Sunken City, stood a small tower. It was a classic cylinder of grey cobblestone three floors high, topped by a pointy roof of purple tiles with a thin black metallic chimney that let out pink fumes. The thing looked out of place in a relatively modern city despite it having laid abandoned for a century, so it didn't take a stroke of genius to realize the structure had been built much more recently.

Behind the door of oak that was the single entrance to the tower, on its very first floor, one would find a small room with a large stone bowl in its center filled with hellish flames, constantly shifting from a warm golden glow to a purple chilling one, as though two creatures fought to direct the contained inferno. The bowl itself was covered in carvings of demonic figures fighting with beings of pure fire. Besides the magical construct, the rest of the room was relatively simple, a small stone table and chair set, some cooking implements made of black iron, and some cabinets, all in all, the room looked like a medieval mix of a pantry, a kitchen and a living room.

The floor above was a much more intriguing sight. It looked like a mad man's lab, with herbs and crystals of all sorts placed in bowls that were left to dangle in the air from chains attached to the ceiling seemingly at random, tables made to fit in with the curve of the wall, and covered in odd trinkets, mysterious bones and various colors of chalks, a strange contraption of black metal housing an open space, the bottom of which was covered with charcoal, and with a singular tube coming out of to the top into the ceiling, countless candles placed everywhere burning with impossible colors that seemed to shift whenever they were left unseen as magical energies flew around in random yet familiar patterns... And in the middle of this chaotic laboratory stood an old man.

He wore mystical robes of red silks covered in a pattern of violet fire, with large sleeves that ended at the elbow with golden threads and hanged down to his waist. A golden sash tied his robes shut, hiding most of his body and only letting his arms and head exposed, though it did nothing to hide his rachitic shape, as though he had fasted for weeks if not months. His long pure white hair was in stark contrast with his tan skin, even more so as it darkened into black hands with eerily thin fingers. His long thin face was covered in wrinkles, and beneath his prominent cheekbones, his pointy chin ended in a long yet thin white beard with a black tip, a goatee that turned into a wick. His eyes were closed, hiding them from view.

The man raised his arms high above his head and clapped his hands without a sound before slowly spreading them out his arms, wisps of orange energies connecting his fingers and forming an ethereal arch as he spread his limbs further and further apart. As his arms stood perfectly perpendicular to his body, he opened his eyes in a flash of pink energy, a bolt of the same force leaving his golden irises to strike the arc at its peak, shattering it into a thousand gold pieces that began to fly around in the room before converging into a single green cyan crystal the size of a fist in a bowl in front of the man. The crystal glowed as more and more pieces entered it, the sheer brightness escaping it overcoming its natural color to become pure white.

And in a flash, the crystal was back to normal, a simply cyan mineral. Above the crystal, however, floated a ghostly representation of the tower's surroundings.

Mesker - for that was the wizard's name - rubbed his wick of a beard as he examined the results of the scrying spell. He had no real enemy to speak of and therefore saw no use in scrying all the time, but a monthly checking of the local area was a nice way to keep track of things.

His tower was just as usual, although he noted a small weakening in the wards he employed to keep it out of intruders' perception. He would have to rectify that soon, it wasn't urgent but he hated putting things off for later. Procrastination was a terrible foe, and it was all too easy to succumb.

With a flick of his wrist, the image shifted and offered a much greater view of this part of the Sunken City, though it wasn't anywhere near covering the entirety of its surface beneath the slums, only his district at best. It was less detailed too, of course, and wasn't much better than a paper map would be in what it showed were it not for its ability to sense energies. With this neat little trick, Mesker could hazard a guess as to the ongoings of his surroundings based on the uses of magic, as well as life and death energies.

Everything seemed to be just as usual. He was quite thankful this area of the Sunken City was this calm, territorial disputes rarely occurred and thieves and upstarts were rare. In his humble opinion, this little place was probably the calmest area of all Zalcien, which is why he let down his guard and embarrassedly almost missed a shift in the usual results.

Mother Greenheld's Orphanage. A cursed place inhabited by a powerful spirit with the odd trait of being filled with both death and life energy, making it highly resistant to both. Due to this, the local mana had always been tainted by death, with some sparks of life mixed in, but the results he was getting now went even further. The death energies had slightly increased, but life had improved even more. This on its own could simply have been the result of the spirit growing stronger and more attuned with one of its aspects, but what really took the cake was the entirely new energy filling the place.

On his map, the green and white of life and death were nothing compared to the overwhelming darkness. It occupied the entire building, shadows so deep he almost confused them for an absent reading. Sprinkled in the shadows were some light pieces of other energies, life, death, fire, water, lightning, earth, metal, and even some light. But the one that caught Mesker's eye more than the rest was the one he felt resonating through his very bones despite being just as weak as the rest.

Whatever that shadow was, a tiny, minuscule, insignificant part of it was demonic in nature.

It didn't take long before Mesker was out of his tower, a satchel full of various ingredients he could need in a ritual strapped to his shoulder. In a flick of his wrist, the oaken door closed behind him before he sent a red ember into the covered sky of the Sunken City, remotely guiding it as close to the abandoned orphanage as he felt safe before letting it fall a minute later.

As soon as the ember hit the ground, it burst into a pillar of golden and purple flames from which Mesker emerged. Teleportation through spatial manipulation was an incredibly hard feat, but good magic practitioners always designed some trick to simulate it much more easily. It wasn't as safe or impressive to those gifted in the arts, but the average person could still appreciate the theatrics.

Of course, the two who stood a hundred meters away from the entrance gate of the orphanage weren't average people. They merely raised their eyebrows as the old wizard stepped out of the flames and let them die down behind him.

To his left was the tall figure of a woman, a good head taller than him, with skin that was darker than his - except for his hands, of course - and covered in rippling muscles. She stared at him with her green eyes through her thin black glasses with her arms crossed, the right one sticking out due to his cybernetic nature, made of white metal with transparent conducts filled with a glowing cyan liquid that acted respectively as veins and blood. She wore a blue jumpsuit covered with stains of various colors with the sleeves pulled up and a pair of thick black boots. Her glasses had an odd addition, in the middle of each lens was a blue circle connected to the rims by thin blue lines.

To his right was another humanoid figure, though an unusual one. Its feet were digitigrade, standing on its toes as an animal would, its arms were long enough that at rest its hands reached its knees, its skin was bone white and its neck was thrice as tall as the average human's would be, leading to a head that was slightly too wide, the side rising until they pierced the skin and the skull formed a pair of horns, giving it a flattened "V" shape. Its bulbous eyes were pitch-black, its nostrils small holes, its ears a pair of floppy things hanging down to its shoulders, and its upper lip was a long and muscled thing, covering the lower half of its face with ease and hiding its mouth.

To add to the creature's weirdness, it wore a pair of short black torn jeans, ending slightly below the knees, a white shirt with a black realistic skull motif on it, and over that a black leather jacket with small metallic spikes on the shoulders, as though it was a biker that had turned into a monster. Its hands were currently inside its jeans' pockets, and around their arms were coiled iron chains.

Mesker joined the two, embers floating from the remains of his teleportation and coalescing into a golden wooden staff, ending in a carving of a flame at the top.

"Marie. Motiro."

"Mesker."

The three stood side by side as they stared at the orphanage ahead. Much had changed since the last time any of them had seen it. Everything had become a darker and improved version of its past self, the iron of the gate had turned into what appeared to be black steel, and the walls of the buildings that had once been a dirty beige with broken spots exposing red bricks had been replaced by a black surface akin to marble, perfectly smooth and with no cut. The broken windows were pristine once more, fixed with tainted glass that hid everything from view, even from Mesker's passive magical sight. The wood of the door was a dark thing, reminding Mesker of Blackwood.

High above, the sign that had once shown the broken name of the orphanage had changed too.

Shadow Den.

"You sure took your time, Mesker."

"You're late, wizard."

"Oh, how nice to know you two took the time to wait for me. Surely it has nothing to do with the threat of potential magical defenses?"

"Nah, I just arrived. My guys don't come around here usually, because of, you know, the whole ghost stuff, so it took us a while and a broken GPS to notice."

"And you, Motiro?"

"A cub grew overconfident and thought he could impose his will on his packmates if he spent the night here. His sister picked him up before he got himself killed and told me about the change. And you, wizard?"

"My monthly scrying showed a change in the magical energies. Which means I have intel to share."

"For a price."

"Of course."

"Ugh, what do you want? You know I only have technological stuff."

"Oh, for you, money will do."

"The usual fee?"

"Of course, I am a fair man, no need to raise my prices. Motiro, what do you have for me today?"

"I still have the werewolves, the goblins, the orc, and the harpy twins."

"What about the kobold?"

"She chose to leave the pack and do her own thing. Same for the owl."

"Curses, that draconic blood was good. Nothing new?"

"Nothing with magical proprieties. Well, there is one thing, but it'll cost you, wizard."

"Even with what I know?"

"A hydra runt. Still a hatchling, only a few weeks out of the egg. Non-sapient."

"Curses. What do you want?"

"For a flask of blood, you share your intel and reapply the wards back at home. ALL the wards."

"You... Which color is the hydra?"

"Green, yellow belly. Red eyes. The egg was white."

"Curses, a pureblood sylvan hydra. Fine, you get your warding."

The pale creature chuckled as the woman, Marie, glared at it.

"Now, to ensure we all get what we want..."

Mesker's staff began to glow at the tip, and the wizard pulled the brightness out with his free hand, turning it into a scroll of parchment that he unfurled to reveal a magical contract.

"As usual, the standard bindings. I uphold my word, you both uphold yours - within a reasonable timeframe. The deal will be fair and in case the contract deems the exchange wasn't of equal value, then we will all be notified of the changes it wishes to enact."

Marie rolled her eyes and Motiro scoffed as both pushed their right thumb onto the scroll, their names appearing in blue and white next to Mesker's on the bottom of the parchment.

"It's a pleasure to do business with you. Now, is anything either of you might add before we begin?"

"Nope."

"Nothing either."

"Well, I suppose it's my turn. I don't know what happened here, but I know that the ambient death and life energy levels rose, especially the latter. Which, in my humble opinion, means that either the local spirit got stronger and focused on life or living entities have settled here."

"That's it?"

"I think your flask turned into a drop."

"Of course that's not all! The youth has no patience these days. I also noticed a peak of shadow mana and considering the new look of the place I assume everything has been replaced or enchanted somehow."

"Uh uh. Even I would be able to guess that."

"Two drops."

"I also picked up a lot of various energies and mana types sprinkled throughout the place. Not as specific items, but instead diluted in the shadow mana. Including something demonic."

The two widened their eyes at these words.

"What."

"You deserve your flask."

"I propose we all go. I am an expert when it comes to demonic forces, Motiro you are a beast in combat, and Marie you can deal with any technical problem that may arise."

"You say that like I can't do anything else, twiggy."

"I didn't hear a 'no'."

"Fine. But I'm not here to pick up a fight. We check what's going on, and if it's not urgent we come back later."

"I see no issue with this plan. Motiro?"

"Scouting is best in a small group, but more than that and you need a pack."

"Alright. We sneak around, look for anything suspicious or demonic, try to figure out who's in charge and then we leave. We'll meet up to discuss and debate what to do about what we learned another day. Is that fine with everyone?"

"Sure."

"I agree."

"You could always knock."

Mesker, Marie, and Motiro all turned their heads in an instant and stared in shock and apprehension at the mysterious figure that had stealthily joined them. Its upper half was roughly humanoid, with a torso and a featureless head, but beneath it thinned down into a singular point that turned into some sort of black smoke on the ground.

"Salutations, it is pleasure to meet my neighbors. Let me introduce myself, I am Silhouette, and I will be your host. Would you like to join us for a light collation?"