Nightflame continued navigating the vast and chaotic universe of the defects, his steps silent and purposeful through the crowded streets.
"I hear you trade information," Nightflame said, approaching a shady figure tucked in a dimly lit corner.
The being was wrapped tightly in a heavy cloak, face hidden in shadow.
But the attempt at concealment was pointless before Nightflame's sharp eyes.
He could see everything clearly.
The man's face looked unkempt and rat-like, with a constantly dripping nose that secreted thick, glistening slime.
The slime trailed down his chin, over his clothes, and onto the floor without him seeming to care.
"Indeed. What is it you wish to know?" the man asked, his voice low and raspy.
"The mad one," Nightflame replied, sliding a large pile of defect gold coins across the table.
"What do you know about him?"
He had received the gold from Scar before the base was destroyed, and now it served its purpose.
