Deep beneath the streets of Zalcien, beneath its monster-infested sewers, lay a place long forgotten by the surface world. A nearly lawless place, only held in rough order by the might of mercenaries and the willingness of its inhabitants and their fear of death. The Sunken City, a haven for criminals from all horizons.

In the ruined city denied the light of day, occupying an old fire station, was a gang of drug dealers. Years ago, they had fought their way through the sewers tooth and nail, leaving a trail of mutated corpses in their wake, and had settled down in the rundown building - after getting rid of its previous occupants. Here they had expanded their operations, using the relative calm of the Sunken City to grow their ranks and improve their infrastructure faster than ever before, unimpeded by their old rivals on the surface. They had grown enough that small squads were enough to make their way back up and sell their products rather than the over-equipped army they had sent down the first time.

And they were in James' way.

He looked at the admittedly impressive structure they had resided in, the fire station may have been on the smaller side of things, with a single garage capable of holding five vehicles, a small tower, and a building meant for the firefighters themselves, everything made with grey cement, but the gang had clearly customized it. The tower had been expanded, with an entirely new floor made from scarps that held a lookout post, fences with barbwire had been installed in various places to make breaking in harder, and the group had personalized the fire station with colored graffiti over every wall, mostly of beaches with palm trees and a sunny skies. A nice bit of escapism, James supposed.

Not that any of that would stop him.

He confidently approached the place himself, done with scouting it via infused paper planes which he directed back to the orphanage, they were too far away to make it back but they didn't need to, his men were waiting for him in that direction. He had to congratulate the Shadow Commando on that one, their random ramblings apparently sometimes led to very good ideas. The planes weren't even that hard to control now that he was a little more comfortable with magic, using the infused paper's owned shadow mana to produce kinetic energy that he could somewhat manipulate was a very neat trick, but not the best he'd learned by far.

James slowly emerged from the ground as Silhouette as he no longer needed to sneak around as a shadow. No, if anything, stealth would be detrimental at this point. And, now that James was no longer hiding, the lookout noticed him judging by the light flickering on and off at the top of the tower. Quickly after that thugs began to take position around the area, some going up on roofs and others approaching the gates, all of them wearing a bulletproof vest of some sort and wielding a firearm, mostly handheld guns but those on the roofs and a couple of those approaching James carrying rifles instead, and all of them had some sort of flashlight attached to either a helmet or their shoulder.

"Halt!"

"Don't come any closer!"

"The hell are you, dude?"

James ignored them and pressed on as their lights illuminated him, his shadow growing much further than what should have been possible.

"My name is Silhouette, and I will be taking over. It is in your best interest to surrender now."

"Who do you think you are?!"

"If you take another step we're filling you with lead!"

James stopped at that and turned his head toward the last speaker who was ready to fire, his finger on the trigger.

"This is your second chance. Lay down your weapons."

"Ya think you're better than us?"

"I do not believe I am, no. I know it."

The trigger-happy thug immediately fired through a hole in the fence, gunshots echoing as he emptied his magazine into the still target that James was. A few of the others joined him, making a few more bullets fly, though they kept themselves down to only a few shots. There was no point in wasting ammo, after all. Not that it did them any good.

"Wrong answer."

Black tentacles rose from shadows and the ambient darkness, gripping the various thugs' limbs and weapons, crushing some and immobilizing the rest via constriction. They struggled and fought against the surprise attack, some even managed to free themselves from the black appendages but by the time they had succeeded, there was a new threat to handle.

While the brunt of the thugs had been busy dealing with tentacles, James had rushed into the base, passing through the fences and gates like a wave of darkness before leaping onto the first enemy he saw, ripping his gun out of his grasp and throwing the man into one of the garage's walls, the man falling into a pile of limp limbs.

At that point, one of the men on top of the garage jumped down, military knife in hand, and stabbed James. The serrated metal blade of the weapon went through his shadowy flesh with ease but without any more results. James forwent his humanoid form to turn into something closer to a snake, using most of his mass as a coil to choke his human opponent. The man tried to get James off his neck, trying to pass his fingers under the black flesh and slash through it with his knife but without result. Before all strength and life left his body and James released it, letting it fall onto the ground as he returned to his Silhouette shape.

Of course, it was at this point that a grey orc with black hair fired off a shotgun aimed straight at his head.

James' head burst, leaving behind black fluidic projections and a stumpy neck as the only reminders it had even existed. The orc grinned and laughed, but his joy quickly died down.

James' body hadn't fallen.

The tentacles attacking the rest of the thugs were still active.

And what at first had appeared to be black blood spread all over the floor began to return to James' body, new black flesh emerging from his neck to reform his head.

"A remarkable attempt, though vain. I assume you're the one in charge here."

"No. I am."

Exiting from the station proper was a creature James could only describe as a goblin. It was short, smaller than a man's waist, it was pine green, it had a big bald head with long ears, and it was objectively ugly with its bulbous eyes and snout-like nose, and that was without taking into account its wrinkles and its wide mouth filled with tiny sharp teeth. Though instead of the dumb optimistic sadism that most goblins were in the stories James knew this one was eerily calm, its hands behind its back, and a strange glint in its eyes.

"You've got guts coming here alone, boy."

Its raspy voice sounded like a mix between an old man who had smoked all his life and a grandma on the verge of death, sounding both incredibly high and low at the same time as well as out of breath.

"I wonder why you picked a fight with us. I don't think there's any bad blood between us, yes?"

"No, but you stand between me and the Black Border."

"Ah, you're one of those. You were born with or discovered a unique power, something that let you crush your enemies with ease, and just because of that you thought you'd make it to the big city. Make a little show out of it, too."

The goblin rolled its neck left and right, its vertebrae popping and cracking as they settled.

"Well let me tell ya, boy. You're nothing."

The goblin took a combat stance, bending its knees as it readied its fists that suddenly unleashed a lime green aura flowing like water and flames at the same time, an incredibly powerful loose unpredictable energy and a calm focused flowing power depending on the goblin's posture and movements, either leaving behind mesmerizing trails or exploding in eye-catching bursts as the goblin changed from its first stance close to the ground to another one that looked closer to a meditative pose than a fighting technique, one of its feet resting again its other leg's shin.

"Ya think you're at the top of the world? The new big bad on the block? Maybe the future Sunburn, or even Natrashka? You're none of those. You're a frog that has grown fat on bugs and thinks itself a bull. I heard ya telling the guys to surrender earlier, so I'll give you the same courtesy. From one frog to another, give up boy. You're good, and I'd be glad to count you as an ally. We small predators of the pond should stick together."

"I appreciate your concern, but I know which path I wish to take. You won't stop me."

The goblin stared at James before scoffing.

"Have it your way. Now behold the might of a Flaming Poison shaman!"

The goblin changed its posture once more, but this time instead of switching to another stance it sprinted toward James, its feet gaining the same lime green aura as its feet, before jumping and pivoting its waist and unleashing a powerful turning kick, James barely holding onto its leg and blocking the attack off by forming more tentacles out of his own shadow.

Its first attack blocked the goblin kicked at James with its other foot which was once again blocked with tentacles, something the goblin apparently relied on since it used its momentum to backflip away before landing back in its original spot facing James, but this time instead of standing still it immediately used the aura on its feet as skates and began to circle James while zigzagging in random patterns to be sure to evade the various spikes and tendrils that emerged from James' shadow on the ground, constantly turning and expanding to follow the strange shaman.

The goblin assaulted James once more, this time keeping its feet on the ground and relying on its fist to attack while passing by, alternating between slow planned hits surrounded by flowing energy and rapid ones unleashed in bursts of burning power, its speed always shifting and changing to try and fool James, which appeared to work as more and more small hits landed on him, leaving behind light green spots on his black body that quickly faded away, though the pain remained.

"Not bad boy, you know how to take a good pounding, but you lack experience. Don't just stand there like a sitting duck, I saw how fast you could move."

"And try to keep up with you? I know where my strengths lie."

"Is your strength to handle getting beat up? That ain't a strength boy, that's just getting used to being a punching bag, and it's not a good sign."

James said nothing as the goblin rushed in again, evading the tendrils, spikes, and tentacles that formed to intercept it, but as it jumped to avoid a bladed tentacle cutting at its feet and twisted midair to let another tentacle aiming at its back to pass over it something new appeared on the battlefield. Black orbs began to float around, coming seemingly out of nowhere, some of them simply kept in place above James while others danced around, and a last few rose from the ground to follow the goblin's jump.

The small creature frowned at the orbs and decided to abort its attack on James, but sadly for it it was still carried by its momentum and high into the air. Despite its best efforts to stabilize itself and leap elsewhere by kicking the air with its aura-clad feet, it simply didn't have the time to avoid one of the orbs floating over James suddenly throwing itself at it. It tried to block it and push off it with one of its hands, but as soon as the orb hit its palm darkness spread over the aura of that hand and it flickered out, the goblin's eyes widening as it watched its hand nearly get ripped off just as the rest of the orbs crashed down on it.

The few thugs that had freed themselves from James' initial tentacles and the orc wielding the shotgun watched in horror as their leader disappeared in a huge black spherical explosion, one of darkness and magic much more dangerous than flames would ever dream to be.

Once the massive sphere dissipated, all that was left was a small black lump on the ground at the foot of their aggressor.

"This, I hope, will be reason enough for the rest of you to accept your place."

The various tentacles and tendrils born from the surrounding shadows disappeared, letting their various victims fall onto the ground to struggle and writhe as they caught themselves. Those still lucid enough to understand James' words turned to their orcish leader who simply released his grip on his shotgun and dropped it at his feet.

"Ain't gonna beat someone who can beat a shaman. Give it up boys."

There was no fight left in them anyway. Getting thrashed by tentacles and seeing their mighty leader be defeated-

"COWARDS!"

It appeared the feisty little trigger-happy thug still wanted to fight, after all.

"I ain't done yet you-"

His next words were drowned out by the orb of darkness thrown at his face, exploding into a spherical expansion of shadows that covered his entire body before disappearing and only leaving behind a black body that fell on its knees, its pale empty eyes revealed to all, before faceplanting.

"Anyone else?"

The rest of the thugs stayed silent and avoided looking at him, suddenly discovering the ground was a very interesting view.

"Good. If either of them starts moving come fetch me. I assume the orc is the next in charge?"

"Eh... Yeah? Name's Brok. At your service, sir..."

James began to explore the fire station with closer attention, already heading for the main building, his latest subordinate following after him.

"Very well, Brok. We'll be going over your group's finances and how it will operate under my rule, including your place in the hierarchy."

"And after that?"

James stopped and took the time to turn around despite not needing to purely for the dramatic flair it provided.

"We expand until we reach the Border."