The dead didn't scream when they returned.
They whispered.
Elijah sat cross-legged on the rooftop of a ruined Brooklyn library, the skyline fractured beyond the ledge. Smoke curled from distant rooftops. Somewhere beneath the city, a generator sparked and died, repeating its mechanical death throes like a desperate breath.
The pouch of essence stones rested beside him, untouched.
He hadn't moved in hours.
The loss of the Stalker still stung—far more than he expected.
Not because of the battle. But because he'd felt it die.
A sliver of himself had been torn out and left behind in the black maw of the Nullborn.
Elijah had killed people. Monsters. Made pacts with the damned. But this was different. His summons weren't meat puppets. They weren't tools. They were his.
The connection went both ways.
"Dwelling on it won't change it," Vaelith said, appearing in a shimmer of violet smoke. She landed lightly beside him, robes of ashen silk drifting with no wind. "It hurts because it matters. And that's exactly why it'll happen again."
Karu followed a beat later, silent, imposing, his armor patched and scorched but solid. A glowing rune glimmered over his heart—a mark of deeper evolution.
"I know," Elijah said. "I just… didn't expect it to be this personal."
"Then let's make sure it doesn't happen again," Karu said.
Elijah rose to his feet. The mark on the back of his hand shimmered faintly—the three arcs of the Triad. Two glowed bright. One remained empty.
He raised his other hand and summoned his status window.
[Elijah Voss – Status Window]
Rank: F (950/1000 EXP)
Personal Summons: 1/2
• Undead Banshee – Class: Wailing Shade | Rank: F | Traits: Terror Cry, Soul Drain
Triad Members:
• Karu – Command Slots: 1/10
• Undead Knight – Class: Vanguard | Rank: F | Traits: Shield Wall, Loyal Guard (Resummoned)
• Vaelith – Command Slots: 1/5
• Undead Arcanist – Class: Cursed Alchemist | Rank: F | Traits: Plague Aura, Hexweaver
He closed it with a thought. "We're rebuilding. Now."
Vaelith smiled. "About time."
They relocated to the remains of an abandoned warehouse in Staten Island—far from prying eyes and low-tier patrols. A place where rituals would go unnoticed.
Elijah stood at the center of a circle made from crushed bone powder and his own blood. The Banshee hovered behind him, silent and watchful.
He reached deep into his reservoir, drawing necrotic energy to the surface until it licked across his skin in green wisps.
He whispered the command.
"Awaken."
From the bone circle rose three bodies, stitched together from grave memories and scavenged essence.
The first was a skeletal hound—lean, agile, teeth dripping with spectral venom.The second was a broken knight missing his helm, eyes flickering like dying stars.The third was a four-armed assassin-shaped shadow, armed with hooked daggers of silver bone.
Elijah extended his hand toward Karu.
"These three are yours."
Karu stepped forward, eyes glowing. He knelt, extended his palm—and the summons snapped into form.
The moment he took them, they changed.
The skeletal hound's bones thickened, armored. It became a Warcrawler—a mounted beast of death.The broken knight reforged into a Grave Sentinel, wielding a spectral shield.The assassin's form rippled and solidified into a Dreadblade, silent and venomous.
[Karu – Command Slots: 4/10]
• Undead Knight – Class: Vanguard | Rank: F | Traits: Shield Wall, Loyal Guard
• Warcrawler – Class: Undead Mount | Rank: F | Traits: Charge, Bone Maw
• Grave Sentinel – Class: Defensive Elite | Rank: F | Traits: Shield Bash, Standfast
• Dreadblade – Class: Assassin | Rank: F | Traits: Ambush, Venom Coating
Elijah didn't stop. He summoned again.
Another three forms rose. Two humanoid, one massive. The first—a hunched, cloaked figure with too many fingers. The second—an undead child holding a cracked spellbook. The third—a rotting ogre with arcane tattoos carved into its flesh.
He turned to Vaelith.
"These match your aura."
Vaelith touched them gently, and like Karu's, they transformed.
The hunched figure grew crystalline arcane arms—it became a Hexmind, channeling raw curses.The child burst into violet flame, floating above the ground—it became a Witchling.The ogre melted into mist, then reformed with armored chains—it became a Plaguebound Juggernaut.
[Vaelith – Command Slots: 4/5]
• Undead Arcanist – Class: Cursed Alchemist | Rank: F | Traits: Plague Aura, Hexweaver
• Hexmind – Class: Curse Mage | Rank: F | Traits: Hexstorm, Arcane Feedback
• Witchling – Class: Fire Familiar | Rank: F | Traits: Ember Torrent, Searing Wail
• Plaguebound Juggernaut – Class: Tankcaster | Rank: F | Traits: Toxic Resilience, Chain Slam
The room glowed with necrotic and arcane light. Seven new undead stood in silence—alive, in a way. Intelligent. Bound.
Elijah felt a surge of something unexpected—pride.
He hadn't just built a team. He was forming a command structure. A military arm of the dead. And his Triad now had teeth.
He reached out toward the Banshee.
She turned slowly toward him, her hand brushing his.
"You're not alone anymore," he whispered.
She didn't speak. But she understood.
Then Elijah's hand burned.
Pain shot up his arm like a lightning bolt. The Triad symbol pulsed red.
Karu and Vaelith turned instantly, their own runes reacting.
A burst of green light erupted from the floor—and from it, crawling up like a creature reborn from the deep…
The Stalker returned.
Its form had changed. No longer simple.
Now it wore armor crafted from shadow itself. Its daggers were fused with cursed metal. Its movements were sharper—more elegant.
And its eyes glowed with intelligence.
[Elijah – Personal Summons: 2/2]
• Undead Stalker – Class: Shadow Warden | Rank: F | Traits: Phase Shift, Soulpiercer
• Undead Banshee – Class: Wailing Shade | Rank: F | Traits: Terror Cry, Soul Drain
Vaelith's eyes widened. "It… evolved."
Karu stepped back in approval. "Death has made it stronger."
Elijah clenched his fist. "We all do. Or we stay dead."
The Triad stood beside him now—two-thirds complete. Each with their subordinates. Elijah with his elite duo. The foundation was here.
A storm was coming.
He could feel it in the air.In the growing power beneath his veins.In the way the dead stirred not with hunger—but purpose.
There would be battles ahead.
Factions. Betrayals. War.
But tonight?
Tonight he buried grief, and raised resolve.