11:14 PM — Ascension Gala, First Floor: Entertainment District — Tucker's POV
The pounding of footsteps behind him grew louder.
"GET HIM!"
Tucker didn't look back.
He already knew what he'd see.
Twenty-something blue suits barreling through the entertainment district like a stampede.
"…Yeah, nope!" Tucker muttered as he sprinted forward.
The golden walkways blurred beneath his feet as he weaved through the crowd. Guests gasped and scattered out of the way, drinks flying through the air as trays were knocked over.
A server shrieked as Tucker vaulted clean over her cart of glasses.
Crystal shattered across the floor behind him.
"STOP HIM!" one of the blue suits roared.
A pistol fired.
The shot blasted into a decorative pillar beside Tucker's head, chips of marble spraying past his face.
"HEY! Guns are cheating!" Tucker yelled over his shoulder.
He ducked around a table, sliding across the polished floor before grabbing the edge of a bar counter and swinging himself over it.
Behind him, Several blue suits crashed into the same table he had just dodged.
Chairs splintered, guests scrambled away in panic.
Still running, Tucker shot a glance behind him.
"…Still a lot of them," he muttered.
He turned a corner and burst into a wide open section of the floor.
Bright stage lights flooded the area.
A group of dancers stood on a raised platform mid-performance, their routine frozen in confusion as Tucker sprinted straight through the middle of them.
"COMING THROUGH!" he shouted.
One dancer shrieked as Tucker ducked beneath a spinning leg kick.
Behind him, the blue suits charged up onto the stage as well.
One of them caught a dancer's heel square in the jaw. He went down instantly.
Tucker jumped off the stage and grabbed the handle of a tall rolling light rig as he passed.
With a grunt, he shoved it sideways.
The heavy metal stand tipped.
Lights shattered across the floor as the rig collapsed behind him.
Several pursuers stumbled through the wreckage.
Tucker didn't stop running.
He burst into another section of the entertainment district lined with bars.
Bartenders paused mid-pour as he sprinted straight through.
A tray of cocktails flew through the air as Tucker knocked it aside.
Alcohol splashed across the marble floor.
One of the blue suits chasing him hit the slick surface.
His feet flew out from under him.
"…That's gotta hurt," Tucker muttered.
He glanced back again.
The group had shrunk now.
Maybe five left, still too many.
Tucker darted past another bar and suddenly noticed a small metal door swing open along the wall as an employee stepped out carrying a crate.
Before the employee could even react, Tucker slipped through the doorway.
The door swung shut behind him.
Instant silence.
The music from the gala became muffled instantly.
The hallway was narrow, lined with metal walls and dim overhead lights.
Utility pipes ran along the ceiling.
"…Okay… this is creepy," Tucker whispered.
Footsteps burst through the door behind him.
He didn't wait.
Tucker sprinted down the corridor.
The hallway twisted sharply left, then right again.
His shoes slammed against the metal flooring as he ran through the maze of service passages.
Behind him, One set of footsteps remained.
The others had gotten lost.
"…Of course ONE of you had to keep up," Tucker groaned.
The blue suit rounded the corner behind him, knife flashing in his hand.
He lunged.
Tucker spun, catching the blade with his cane before shoving the man into a rolling cart stacked with cleaning supplies.
The cart exploded apart, bottles and towels flying everywhere.
But the blue suit recovered quickly.
"Persistent guy, huh?!" Tucker said.
He turned another corner and burst back through a doorway, right into a smaller side bar area.
This one was quieter.
Barely any guests.
Perfect.
Tucker darted behind the counter.
Then he saw a plain metal door, and small sign bolted onto it.
EMPLOYEES ONLY
"…YES."
He yanked it open, slipped inside, and slammed the door shut behind him.
The lock turned.
Immediately, the door rattled violently as the blue suit slammed into it from the outside.
Tucker froze.
Another hit, the door creaked but held.
Then… Silence.
Tucker slowly backed away from the door, breathing hard.
11:20 PM — Ascension Gala, First Floor — Employee Only Room
He slid down the wall until he was sitting on the floor.
For a moment he just stared at the ceiling, catching his breath.
Then he muttered under his breath,
"…My second chase in like three weeks. Great.."
11:18 PM — Ascension Gala, Second Floor: Sovereign District — Shirley's POV
The stairs curved upward in a quiet spiral of polished black marble.
Each step Shirley took seemed to pull him further away from the chaos below. The distant pulse of music from the first floor faded with every step, swallowed by thick carpet and dark wood paneling that lined the walls.
By the time he reached the top…
The noise was gone.
Almost completely.
Shirley stepped onto the second floor and paused.
Immediately, the difference was obvious.
The flashing lights and bright gold glamour of the entertainment district had disappeared, replaced with a warm amber glow from brass lamps and low-hanging chandeliers. Their light reflected softly off polished wood walls and deep red carpeting that stretched across the entire floor.
The air itself felt heavier here.
It carried the scent of aged whiskey, tobacco smoke, and expensive perfume.
Shirley slowly looked around.
This place wasn't a party.
It was a lounge.
A wide balcony wrapped around the entire floor, overlooking the glittering chaos of the entertainment district below. From up here, the dancers, lights, and crowds almost looked like a performance on a stage.
But the people standing along the railings weren't cheering.
They were watching. Studying.
Men in immaculate suits leaned against the iron railings with crystal glasses in their hands, smoke drifting from the tips of long cigarettes as they quietly observed the movement below. Some spoke in low murmurs to the people beside them, voices so soft they barely carried through the room.
Clusters of leather chairs and polished tables filled the center of the floor. Powerful-looking guests sat in small circles, glasses of amber liquor resting between their fingers as they spoke calmly about things that clearly carried weight.
No one shouted.
No one laughed loudly.
Every conversation was quiet.
Controlled. Measured.
Along the walls, heavy velvet curtains partially concealed private booths where shadows moved behind the fabric. Occasionally a soft laugh slipped out, followed by the faint clink of glass against glass.
Several women in elegant dresses moved gracefully between the tables, leaning down to whisper in ears, pouring drinks, lighting cigarettes, or simply sitting beside powerful guests while quiet negotiations continued around them.
Shirley noticed something else too.
Security. Not obvious, but definitely there.
A few men stood along the edges of the room with their backs against the walls, arms crossed, eyes calmly scanning the floor. They didn't look like entertainers or guests.
They looked like guards.
Toward the back of the room sat several old green card tables beneath hanging lamps. A handful of well-dressed criminals played slow, deliberate hands of cards, stacks of chips sliding silently across the felt as their expressions remained unreadable.
Near the center stood a long bar carved from dark mahogany. Behind it, a bartender in a black vest polished a glass slowly, barely speaking as guests approached him for drinks.
No music played here.
Only the soft sounds of the room itself.
The quiet shuffle of cards.
The low murmur of conversations.
The faint click of a lighter somewhere in the distance.
Shirley slipped one hand into his pocket as he stepped further onto the floor.
His fingers brushed against the playing card.
The one with the diamond symbol.
His eyes scanned the room again.
Everyone here looked important.
Everyone here looked dangerous.
And yet… None of them were who he was looking for.
Shirley slowly exhaled, his gaze drifting across the balcony and deeper into the dimly lit lounge.
"…Alright," he muttered quietly to himself.
"I'm here."
He stepped forward into the Sovereign District.
11:22 PM — Ascension Gala, Second Floor: Sovereign District — Shirley's POV
Shirley moved slowly through the Sovereign District, his eyes drifting from table to table.
Everywhere he looked, power sat quietly behind polished glass and half-empty whiskey glasses. Conversations stayed low and deliberate, words carefully chosen between people who clearly understood the weight they carried.
No one here looked surprised to see criminals.
They looked like they were the criminals.
As Shirley walked past a pair of velvet booths, he heard a whisper drift through the air behind him.
"…That's him."
Another voice answered softly.
"The one she marked."
Shirley's steps slowed slightly.
Marked?
His fingers brushed the inside of his jacket pocket again.
The diamond card.
So it wasn't just a random gesture.
His eyes scanned the room again.
And then he saw her.
Near the far side of the lounge sat a circular card table beneath a low hanging lamp. Its light cast a soft glow over the green felt surface where several players sat quietly engaged in a slow game.
Chips slid across the table.
Cards flicked between fingers.
And seated among them…
Was her, the woman.
Her dark hair framed her face as she studied the cards in her hand, completely focused on the game before her. The gothic choker still rested around her neck, the metal spikes catching the warm light of the lamp. Her red lipstick stood out, almost glowing so ever softly.
She didn't laugh, didn't talk, didn't react to the others.
She simply played.
The players across from her shifted nervously whenever she moved a chip forward.
Shirley watched for a moment.
Then he walked over.
One of the empty chairs nearby scraped softly across the floor as Shirley dragged it out and turned it toward the table.
The other players looked up immediately.
Their expressions tightened.
But Shirley didn't care.
He sat down.
Calm. Uninvited.
The woman slowly lifted her eyes from the cards in her hand.
For a brief moment, the room around them seemed to quiet.
Shirley reached into his pocket.
Pulled something out.
And slid it across the table.
The card stopped directly in front of her.
A diamond symbol stared up from its center.
Shirley leaned back slightly in his chair, resting one arm over the backrest.
His voice was calm.
Cold.
"I think you're forgetting something."
The woman didn't move right away.
Her gaze lowered to the card.
Then slowly returned to him.
The corner of her mouth twitched ever so slightly.
Like she had been expecting this.
And now…
She was interested.