Matt sat on the edge of the cot, hands steady even as Kai kept flinching from every careful tug of the gauze. The room smelled faintly of antiseptic and sweat, too clean for the Azura Tower but not clean enough to feel safe.
"Shit," Matt muttered under his breath, peeling the bandage back from Kai's ruined eye. "That little psycho got you good. Fucking Tom."
Kai forced a half-smile, his voice distant. "It's… okay. It doesn't hurt."
Matt gave him a sharp look, the kind that cut deeper than any blade. "Don't lie to me. You're shaking." He pressed the fresh cloth against the wound, slow and deliberate, like he was afraid of breaking something fragile. Blood seeped through instantly, warm against his fingers.
Kai exhaled, leaning back against the stone wall. His single eye tracked the ceiling, but his thoughts were elsewhere. "I've decided what I want to do," he said quietly. "First we pay some payback for what they did to me. After that… you'll infiltrate Red Circle. I'll make ties with Omen Trading. Between the two of us, we'll have leverage."
Matt didn't answer right away. He finished tying the fresh bandage in place, tugging the knot snug. His hands lingered for a moment, resting on Kai's shoulders, grounding him. Finally, he leaned back, shaking his head.
"Not good enough."
Kai frowned. "What do you mean?"
"You split us up like that, we're easy prey. Red Circle will chew me alive the second I step into their den, and Omen will string you up if they smell weakness. You want payback? Fine. But we need to be smarter about it." Matt's shadow twitched at the edges of the lamplight, restless.
Kai sat up straighter, bandaged eye throbbing. "So what do you suggest?"
Matt's lips curled into something that wasn't quite a smile. "We make them fight each other. Red Circle and Omen both want power, both want recruits, both want blood. We put the right whispers in the right ears, they'll be clawing each other's throats before they even know we were there. While they're busy tearing down their own houses, we slip in through the cracks and take the pieces we need."
Kai blinked, the plan sinking in. It wasn't cautious. It was ruthless. And it fit.
"You want to start a war in the Lawless City."
Matt shrugged, finally grinning. "No, Kai. I want to aim the fire that's already burning. We just decide where the flames go."
Matt's words hung in the stale air like a blade ready to fall. Kai sat still, bandaged eye throbbing, the shadows under his jaw sharpening in the lamp's dim glow.
Before he could answer, the door creaked and Drake strolled in without knocking. He looked like he'd just walked out of a gambling hall — loose shirt half-buttoned, a grin pasted to his face, and the faint smell of smoke clinging to him.
"Did I hear something about starting a war?" he asked, voice cheerful in a way that was almost mocking. "Because if you two are planning to burn down Red Circle and Omen at the same time, you're dumber than the last slaves I bet on."
Matt narrowed his eyes. "You've been listening."
Drake shrugged, flicking dust off his sleeve. "I listen to everything. Keeps me alive. But let's clear up one thing before you go playing revolutionaries: the Omen Trading Company isn't evil."
Kai tilted his head. "What do you mean? They're contractors."
"Exactly." Drake stepped further in, dragging a chair across the stone floor and flipping it backward before sitting. "They're not saints, but they're not Red Circle either. Omen takes jobs. Sometimes dirty, sometimes clean. And sometimes — sometimes — they work with the Zones. You hear me? With them. They're mercenaries with paperwork. Red Circle wants to burn the world. Omen just wants to get paid."
Matt frowned, arms crossing. "That makes them dangerous in a different way. You can't trust someone who doesn't care about sides."
"Sure you can," Drake said with a wink. "You just gotta pay better than the other guy. Or give them something worth more than money. That's where you two come in. You've got potential, spectacle, names starting to spread on Azura's lips. If Omen thinks they can profit off you? They'll keep you breathing."
Kai leaned forward, his single eye sharp despite the throbbing pain. "So you're saying don't aim the fire at them. Aim it at Red Circle."
"Bingo." Drake tapped the side of his nose. "Red Circle's the kind of lot that doesn't stop until the ground's ash. You piss them off, you'll have assassins on your back until you're dust. But Omen? You might be able to steer them. Might even convince them to help torch Red Circle for you."
Matt muttered, "If they don't sell us out first."
"That's the fun part," Drake said, his grin spreading like oil. "You never really know until the knife's either in your hand… or in your back."
Silence thickened, only the faint drip of water from a cracked pipe breaking it. Kai breathed slow, weighing the pieces. Matt's ruthless plan, Drake's half-truth advice, the sting in his ruined eye.
Kai tightened the bandage around his ruined eye, voice steady. "Then we don't start a war. We feed one. Push Red Circle into Omen's path and side with Omen to wipe them out."
Matt's shadows stirred, wary but approving. "So first, payback."
"Yeah," Kai said coldly. "We visit the ones who branded me, the ones who laughed. We make examples."
Drake leaned back, smirking. "Omen Trading will like that. Red Circle bleeds, business runs smoother. You prove you're useful, they'll welcome you."
Kai rose, jaw set. "Then let's start. They'll remember my face—even if I've only got one eye left."
Matt smirked faintly. Drake clapped his hands once, loud and sharp.
"Now that," Drake said, leaning back on the chair's two legs, "is a plan I can bet on."