Nameless's eyes snapped open at the sound of the shed doors creaking—wide, slow, and deliberate.
His sword lay beside him, within easy reach. He didn't grab it immediately. Instead, he remained still, listening.
Then—footsteps. Not one or two, but several. Soft, deliberate steps padding toward the shed.
In an instant, Nameless unsheathed his sword and rose to his feet, muscles tensed. The cold glint of the blade shimmered faintly in the darkness.
The sound had roused the others.
Ningtin and Lady Meiyer stirred, eyes flicking open at the movement, both quickly rising with their weapons drawn.
"A guest? At this hour?" Lady Meiyer murmured groggily, her voice tinged with irritation.
Ningtin yawned mid-stance, rubbing sleep from his eyes as he tightened his grip on his blade.
All eyes turned toward the wide-open doors. Shadows loomed just beyond the threshold—but no one stepped through.
