Kai didn't even bother listening to the man's pleas. His words were nothing but wasted breath in the Lawless City, a place where mercy had no market value. Kai's hand closed around Flicker, the blade humming like it already knew the outcome. With one smooth thrust, he buried it deep in the man's chest.
The man's body jolted once, then sagged, eyes wide with that last flicker of disbelief.
"Soul absorbed, so tasty!!!" Flicker muttered gleefully as Kai drew the blade free, wisps of spectral light curling into its edge before vanishing.
[You have slain: Manny Lowe]
Kai exhaled through his nose, not in triumph but weariness. His single eye hardened, then softened into a tired sigh. "It's getting late… and I'm satisfied."
He turned, cloak dragging across the floor, voice low and even. "Follow me. We go to Omen Trading."
---
The path led them down toward the river, where the stench of iron, tar, and saltwater tangled in the night air. At the edge of the dock loomed a warehouse, its corrugated walls streaked with rust and graffiti, windows cracked or painted black. Lanterns swayed at intervals, casting broken halos across the water. A boat sat tied to the pylons outside—its paint stripped, its name erased, its purpose unmistakably illicit.
Renn was already waiting, leaning against the railing with a cigarette glowing between her fingers. She flicked the ash into the water and pushed herself off the post as they approached.
"Charming, isn't it?" she said dryly, her voice rolling with sarcasm. "Nothing screams 'welcome home' like a warehouse full of smuggled crates and rats fat as cats."
She pulled the door open, hinges screeching like wounded metal, and led them inside.
The warehouse yawned wide: crates stacked like walls, ropes dangling from beams, a faint hum of generators buzzing somewhere in the dark. The river's sound seeped through the walls—slapping water and the creak of moored boats. The place smelled of fish, oil, and rust, but it was quiet. Safe, in its own crooked way.
"Keep close," Renn warned as her boots clanged on the steel catwalk. "Omen's people don't like wanderers poking around. Lucky for you, I told them you're with me."
Up a set of rattling stairs, she pushed through to a narrow hallway. A row of metal doors lined one side, paint peeling, locks old but functional. She kicked one open with her heel and stepped aside.
Inside, the spare room was little more than bare walls and cots, with a single lantern hanging from a hook. The faint hum of the river carried through a slit window, cool night air brushing in.
"Not much, but it'll keep you breathing till morning," Renn said, cigarette back at her lips. She smirked, smoke curling from her words. "Omen Trading will meet you tomorrow. Sleep while you can. You'll need it."
Kai set his cloak down on the cot and sat heavily, one hand resting on Flicker's hilt as if it were just another heartbeat. Matt lingered at the doorway, watching Renn as though trying to decide if she was rescuer, captor, or something in between.
Renn only grinned and shut the door behind them, her boots echoing away across the steel. The warehouse swallowed the sound, leaving them with nothing but the river's murmur and the weight of the city pressing in.
---
The room Renn left them in was narrow and plain, but it had four walls, a lock, and—strangely enough—a bunk bed shoved against the corner. The metal frame squeaked whenever it shifted, paint peeling off in spots, as though a hundred different tenants had left their marks before them. A cracked lantern swung overhead, its glow catching on a few odd items scattered across a nearby shelf: a rusted compass with no needle, a chipped teacup, and a pile of dog-eared playing cards held together with tape.
Kai dropped onto the lower bunk, cloak spilling around him, while Matt climbed up top with the ease of someone who'd slept in worse places. The springs groaned but held.
For a long moment, they said nothing. The hum of the river filled the silence, muffled through the thin walls.
Matt finally broke it. "Hell of a day, huh?" His voice was casual, but the edge of exhaustion bled through.
Kai tilted his head back against the wall, staring at the ceiling where the lantern's light carved faint patterns. "Depends on what you call a day. Feels more like a year."
Matt chuckled softly. "You stabbed three people, marched with a mob, and got offered jobs by mercenaries. That's a year's worth of trouble where I come from."
"Where you come from doesn't have the Lawless City." Kai's voice was flat, though a trace of humor curled at the edge. He reached over and picked up the needleless compass, turning it in his hand. "Pointless thing. Fits this place."
Matt dangled one arm over the side of the bunk, staring at him upside down. "So… Omen Trading tomorrow. You trust Renn?"
Kai set the compass back down. "No. But trust isn't what keeps you alive here. It's momentum. If she's moving, we move."
Matt smirked. "That's either wise or suicidal. Can't tell which yet."
"Neither can I."
The words hung in the air until Matt let out a tired sigh, rolling onto his side. The bunk above creaked as he settled.
Kai stretched out, closing his eye. Flicker was propped against the wall within arm's reach, its faint glow pulsing like a heartbeat. He let the sound of the river and the rhythm of Matt's slow breathing wash over him, pulling him down into uneasy sleep.
The warehouse held them in silence, a pause before whatever storm the next day would bring.