The zoo wasn't for animals anymore.
The cages were welded from rusted rebar, old bus doors, and scavenged chain-link. Floodlights bathed the place in a sickly yellow glow, cutting across the rows of bodies crammed behind bars. Some were half-starved, eyes glazed, skin scored with burn marks and brands. Others were bruised but still defiant, watching the crowd of gamblers and buyers with venom in their stares.
And then there were the performers—the slaves dragged out in chains to fight for the slavers' amusement, like bloodied beasts paraded for profit. The crowd cheered when fists flew, when knives sank in. Every death was just another bet won or lost.
Kai's gut twisted. Velnix quivered at his shoulder, ribs half-phased into the air as if the guardian itself recoiled from the stench of despair.
Matt's eyes were fixed ahead. "This is it," he murmured, his voice a blade cutting through the noise.
Renn, though, grinned like a wolf at a feast. She sauntered up to the nearest slaver, a squat man with gold teeth and a ledger. "Got anything worth my coin?" she asked, casual as if shopping for fruit.
The man sneered, about to spit back something crude—until Renn flipped a coin onto his desk. It clinked sharp and heavy. Not just any coin. A LOD coin. The Legion of Death's currency, infamous enough that whispers swept instantly through the crowd.
The slaver froze. His smirk withered. "Where the hell did you get that?"
"Not your business." Renn leaned in, eyes gleaming. "But I want those three." She pointed toward a cage off to the side, where three battered but dangerous-looking prisoners sat shackled together. Their posture wasn't like the others—they radiated discipline, coiled violence restrained only by chains. Black Omen operatives.
The slaver swallowed hard. Nobody with sense argued over a Legion coin. He snapped his fingers, and the cage was unlocked. The operatives stumbled out, their eyes sharp despite exhaustion.
"You guys owe me big time," Renn said with a smirk, flicking the coin once more before pocketing it again.
The operatives froze when they saw Matt. Then one of them—scarred cheek, shaved head—spoke, disbelief cracking his tone. "Mattethis?"
The other two blinked, recognition dawning. Forgettability was his greatest weapon, but not against those who had lived and bled beside him.
"Shortly after you left," the scarred man said, "we got ambushed on our way to extraction. Lost half the squad. We thought you were dead."
Matt's shadow stirred at his feet, restless. He lowered his head for a moment, then lifted it again. "We'll catch up later. Right now we need somewhere safe."
They found it in an abandoned warehouse a few blocks away, dust thick on the rafters, rats scurrying in the corners. It wasn't much, but it was enough. The operatives leaned against crates, binding wounds with scraps of cloth while Renn kept watch at the door.
Matt stood with his arms crossed, shadows wrapping him like a cloak. "We're contacting Concord," he said. "They'll send a rift for you."
The scarred man shook his head. "What about you? You're not coming back with us?"
Matt's jaw tightened. "No. We've got a promise to keep. We'll find a way home another way."
The operatives didn't argue. They just looked at him with the kind of respect only soldiers gave, even after all this time.
Kai watched quietly, hood shadowing his eye. He could feel the weight of Matt's choice. Another tie cut, another path diverging.
When the operatives finally activated their flare, the warehouse filled with the shimmer of a forming rift. Its yellow light bathed their battered forms as they stepped through, one after another, until only silence remained.
Renn flicked her hair back and blew out a sigh. "Well. That was touching." Her grin returned, sharper than ever. "So what now, boss?"
Kai didn't answer. He already knew. His hand tightened around his cloak, fingers brushing the scar beneath his shirt where the brand had burned him.
They walked. Back into the veins of the Lawless City, deeper into the alleys where shadows swallowed sound.
And then they found him.
The slaver who had branded Kai. Alone now, away from his zoo, counting coin under the guttering light of a rusted lantern. His grin was smaller without his crowd, his swagger thinner.
Matt moved first. His shadow stretched across the cobblestones, curling up the slaver's legs like tar. In the blink of an eye, the man was yanked into the darkness and dragged screaming into a narrow alley.
When the shadows released him, he was on his knees. Kai and Matt stood over him, silent but unrelenting. Renn leaned against the wall, pistol loose in her hand, watching like a judge at trial.
The slaver's eyes darted between them, panic rising. He knew exactly who they were. And he knew this time, there would be no bargain.