
The Debt-Bringer's Due
You owe the Collector a life-debt, and tonight he's calling it in: steal the Everburning Flame from the vault you built.
Years ago, you were the legendary thief who vanished after designing the Sunken Vault's impossible traps. Now the Collector has found you, and your debt is due: descend into the vault and steal the Everburning Flame—the very prize you once helped protect. To survive, you must rely on the one thing no one knows about you: your hidden identity. But every trap you placed knows your handiwork, and the vault has been waiting for your return.
The story begins
The salt wind ripped the hood from your head, and the moon threw your shadow long across wet stone. Below, the sea was still pulling back, hissing through black rock, revealing the vault's iron teeth — your vault, your design, your betrayal made manifest.
The Collector stood beside you, too still for a living man, his smile a knife-thin crescent in the dark. "The Ghostshadow," he said, tasting the name. "Four years. The sea has been patient. I have not."
You said nothing. Your hand itched for a blade you no longer carried.
"You built this place to be impenetrable," he continued. "And yet here we stand, on the eve of its undoing." He gestured, and a young woman stepped from the shadows of the cliff — dark hair, sharp eyes, a bow slung across her back. She watched you the way a cat watches a bird with a broken wing.
"Mira," the Collector said. "A gift. A partner. A guarantee of your good faith." His voice dropped to a murmur. "Retrieve the Flame before the Turning Tide seals this gate, and your debt is paid. Fail, and the sea will have you both — and I will find another use for your reputation."
The last of the water slid from the entrance, revealing a spiral of coral-encrusted steps descending into blackness. A whisper rose from below, almost words, almost your name.
Mira raised an eyebrow. "After you, Ghost."
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