The elevator rattled as it climbed, gears grinding beneath the tower's weight. Kai leaned against the wall, Matt beside him, both streaked with drying blood and arena dust. Every floor they passed hummed faintly with crowd noise, but by the time the doors slid open, the air was different. No shouting gamblers, no barked commands. Just quiet, expensive silence.
Floor fifty-one. The penthouse. Drake's penthouse now.
The door to the suite swung wide and Drake burst forward, grinning like he'd swallowed the sun. His arms spread wide. "You guys did great—holy shit! Thank you so much! You're free, free to do whatever you want now! I made it! We made it!"
The room itself was absurd. Velvet couches sprawled across a wide open floor, glass walls looking out over the Tower's vertical labyrinth. A chandelier dangled overhead, crystals shimmering faintly from resonance light. A long table stood set with food—actual food, not the slop they'd been fed in the waiting rooms. Steaming meats, roasted vegetables, golden bread rolls still glistening with butter.
Kai blinked at it all. His body was sore, heavy, his left eye still throbbing with the ghost of Tom's bite. But the smell of real food cut through the haze.
Drake flung himself into a chair, kicking his boots up on the table, grabbing a goblet of wine without a shred of grace. "I told you! Floor fifty was the finish line. Broker status, boys. You've no idea what this means." He drank deep, wine sloshing over his chin.
Matt glanced at Kai, one brow lifted, then walked stiffly to the table. He picked up a bread roll, tore into it without hesitation. "Means we don't have to kill anyone else tonight," he muttered.
Drake laughed, nearly choking. "Exactly! No more fights, no more chains. You're free men. Contract's finished."
Kai sank into one of the couches, Velnix curling faintly around him like smoke. The guardian's ribs shimmered into brief visibility before folding back into cloak form. He rubbed at his temples. "Feels like it's still moving. The fights, the crowds."
Matt threw him a look. "That's because it is. You're still shaking."
Drake leaned forward, grin wide but eyes sharp. "Shaking? More like terrifying. When you walked in with Nightmare—oh, sorry, Velnix—people nearly pissed themselves. Do you understand how rare that is? Binding a guardian mid-tower? You scared the brokers, Kai. You scared me."
Kai didn't answer. He just pulled the cloak tighter around himself. Terrifying wasn't a compliment in his ears—it was a warning.
Matt broke the silence, voice flat. "So what now? You've got your penthouse. Your broker badge. What's the plan?"
Drake gestured around wildly. "Plan? The plan is this! Luxury. Access. Connections. You don't get it—nobody makes it here without a miracle. And I had two. You two. You're welcome to stay, eat, rest, whatever. Or walk out those doors free men. Nobody's chasing you now."
Kai's stomach growled, betraying him. He reached out, grabbed a plate, and let himself taste. The food was warm, grounding. For the first time in weeks, it didn't feel like survival—just eating.
Matt stayed on his feet, pacing slowly, shadow curling faintly around his ankles. "Feels too clean. We're not free just because you say so."
Drake waved him off. "Paranoia. Trust me, you've done your part. People forget slaves that survive fifty floors—unless they were popular, and you weren't exactly the crowd favorites." He smirked. "They'll remember the kid who bit your eye more than you, Kai."
Kai froze mid-bite. His knuckles whitened around the fork. "Good," he muttered.
Matt stopped pacing, watching him. "You don't care if they forget you?"
Kai glanced at the glass wall, at the sprawl of the Tower beneath them. He saw endless corridors, cages, blood-soaked sand. His reflection wavered, Velnix's ribs fanning briefly behind him. "I'd rather they did."
Drake raised his goblet again, oblivious. "Well, too late for that. Every broker in this Tower knows your names now. Stray and Shadowborn. And the one with the pet nightmare? You're a story already."
Matt's jaw tightened. "It's Velnix."
"Whatever," Drake said lightly. "Point is, you've come full circle. Free men. Contracts gone. Hell, if you wanted, you could walk back into the city right now and vanish. Or—and hear me out—you stick with me. Brokers need muscle. And you two? You're the scariest muscle anyone could buy."
Kai put his fork down. "We're not for sale."
Drake studied him for a moment, smile flickering but not falling. "Didn't think so. Doesn't matter. Tonight's not about deals. Tonight's about survival." He raised his glass high. "To making it out alive."
Matt didn't lift anything, but his voice was steady. "To getting out."
Kai reached for the goblet in front of him, fingers brushing the cool metal. He lifted it halfway, then set it back down without drinking. Velnix pulsed faintly, the cloak warm on his shoulders. "To leaving," he murmured.
They ate in silence after that, the chandelier's glow reflecting off the glass walls, the Tower stretching endlessly below them. Drake filled the air with chatter, boasting about connections he'd cash in, luxuries he'd finally claim.
But Kai and Matt sat apart in their own quiet. The circle had closed. From cages to penthouse, from forced fights to freedom. And yet, even in victory, the weight of the Tower clung to them, heavy as the cloak across Kai's shoulders.
When the plates were empty and the wine nearly gone, Drake slumped back, sighing contentedly. "Sleep easy, boys. Tomorrow the world's yours."
Kai closed his eye, letting Velnix curl tighter around him. Tomorrow felt far away. But for one night—just one—he allowed himself to rest.