Yeji lingered at the Rust Wok's threshold, the bead curtain rattling behind her like impatient teeth. Her hood still shadowed her face, but her posture had lost its knife-edge tension. Through the steam-misted air, Ah-Jin watched her glance towards the alley's western mouth where a flickering sign pulsed "SPECTRE'S KETTLE" – notorious Pit holding pen.
"The fights," Yeji spoke abruptly, her voice low beneath the alley's ambient clatter. "Where do they… happen?" Her gloved hand twitched towards the hidden pocket where the cred-chip lay heavy. "I heard there is an Arena with symbol of teeth, is that reliable information?"
Ah-Jin plunged his spatula into a simmering vat of chili oil. Venomous bubbles hissed. His eyes flicked to Haerin crouched beneath the far counter, arranging glow-moss spores into intricate, pulsing constellations on the greasy floor while Bori watched with his perpetually glitching violet eye. "It's Spectre's Kettle you saw that sign right, go four blocks west and then you will see a green Hellgate alley." He scraped charred residue off the wok's pitted surface. "Tonight's battles are done. Winners are paid and losers are dumped. The gate's sealed till tomorrow, 9PM"
Yeji absorbed this, her shrouded form still as obsidian. "9PM," she echoed. Calculations clicking behind the cowl. "Do we need any access codes?"
"Cred-chip talks loudest at Spectre's door." Ah-Jin jerked his chin towards the pocket where his payment rested beneath her duster. "Wear defensive armour on your entire body" He dumped ice-cold water into the scorching wok. Steam exploded with a furious *WHOOSH*, momentarily swallowing her figure.
A pause stretched. Then, decisive. "Understood.… appreciation, Chef." The politeness sat awkwardly on the sharp consonants. She turned, the heavy duster swirling around her ankles as she merged into the Gutter's Turn shadows, swallowed swiftly by puddles reflecting fractured neon and smog.
Haerin poked her head up, spores clinging to her wild hair. "She followin' thunder-gods, Appa? Spectre's Kettle rattles like a skull fulla bees when the big fists fly!" Her nose wrinkled. "Smelt stranger though. Like slick rain 'fore acid falls."
"Don't be sniffing strangers, little nebula," Ah-Jin grunted, moving to flip the "OPEN" sign to "CLOSED." The thick shield-glass reflected Gutter's Turn emptying as twilight curfew protocols engaged. "Finish your star-trails, kitchen needs cleaning." He began gathering bowls, the rhythmic clash of stainless steel a familiar cadence beneath Mara's muttered complaints about coiled pipes and Old Hemm's rattling breaths as patrons trailed out into the gloom.
Haerin returned to her luminous constellations, whispering nonsense syllables only she and Bori comprehended. The café quieted, leaving only the simmer of deep-cleaning solvents in the industrial sink, the thrum of the ancient environmental regulator bolted to the ceiling, and the distant, mournful wail of a security drone sweeping high vents. Ah-Jin worked methodically – scrubbing, stacking, securing. Time folded. The bio-lum glow moss dimmed as Haerin's movements slowed; she curled against the freezer's humming flank, Bori tucked beside her cheek, eyelids heavy. He covered her with his apron, coarse against her small frame.
Finally, wiping grease-smeared hands on a threadbare rag, Ah-Jin moved to seal the Rust Wok. He hauled the heavy slide-bolt across the reinforced main door. Through the shield-glass, Oblivion Belt lay deserted beneath the baleful constellations of Celestial Aeria's intermittent structural lights far above. Only the low throb of machinery and the dripping of condensed toxic vapor from rusted pipes broke the unnatural stillness. He scanned the alley: Trash tumbling in a sudden down-draft. A faulty conduit sputtering sparks near Vix's shuttered booth. Emptiness.
*Good.* He grabbed the exterior shutter handle, thick metal plated against opportunistic acid or pry-bars. And froze.
Shadows pooled unnaturally deep in the alcove beside Grimey's Pipe Dreams – the one shielded from overhead drone sweeps. Two figures. One unmistakable: the shabby brown synth-canvas duster. Hood thrown back now. Yeji's ice-dark hair gleamed like frozen mercury under a flickering chem-globe, her pale face contorted in fierce, silent argument. Her hand slashed air – sharp, precise dismissal.
The man facing her leaned against Graffitied shutters, radiating lazy menace. Tall. Expensively tailored synth-silk tunic dyed the deep purple of high-city dusk. His face, aristocratic and dismissively handsome, was illuminated by the pulsing "FRESH A!R" sign. Gold augments traced his temples, pulsing faint crimson. A Chronos Arc, the mark of Eclipse Dynamics' upper echelons. His lips moved, form shaping soundless words, smooth and corrosive. He tapped a phantom-sharp elbow against the grimy wall, uncaring of the filth.
Ah-Jin's knuckles whitened on the shutter handle. *Trouble wearing platinum silk.* He watched Yeji stab a finger at the man's chest, fury radiating even through twenty feet of poisoned air. The man laughed, a slow reveal of perfect teeth, and leaned closer, invading her space. Yeji recoiled, vibrating with suppressed violence.
Then, impossibly, quietly, they *squirmed*. Not fading. *Compressing*. Air distorted around them like heat haze off the sun-blasted wastes, shimmering with barely contained energy. The opulently dressed man touched something at his wrist. The world seemed to hiccup. One heartbeat they were arguing amidst pulsing graffiti and refuse – the next, a faint violet afterimage dissolved upwards towards the perpetual smog ceiling, leaving only an echo of displaced air that smelled sharply of ozone and scorched lavender. Gone. Teleported? Grav-lifted? Vanished into corporate nothingness etched with opulent malice. Upward. Always upward.
Ah-Jin stood cold in the Rust Wok doorway, staring into the empty, grungy alcove. The fingerprints of high-city indifference. A harsh, mirthless chuckle scraped out of his throat, raw against the quiet alley. "Yeah," he muttered to the dead air, the word condensing visibly. "Good riddance." He slammed the heavy shutters closed with a resonating *CLANG-OOOONG*, sealing Oblivion Belt's uneasy night outside with his family within.
---
Five miles above where a chef mocked vanished ghosts, air didn't just smell expensive – it tasted of it. Yao-Shan Spire pierced the cool, constantly filtered stratosphere, its summit a diamond crown overlooking Celestial Aeria's dazzling sprawl. Yeji exploded into her sky-piercing penthouse atrium as if fired from a railgun. Synthetic moonlight glowed from flawless sapphire tiles beneath her boots.
Vahn Korvus stood bathed in the glacial light of Celestial Aeria, swirling amber liquor in crystal as the penthouse lift doors hissed open. Yeji strode in, the stench of ozone, stale grease, and damp concrete trailing her like a shroud despite the penthouse's purifiers. She kept the coarse, hooded duster tightly wrapped around her frame.
"Late," Vahn stated, not turning from the panoramic window overlooking the electric sprawl below. His voice was smooth silk stretched taut over ice. "Another disappearing act, darling? This new talent for absence is… disruptive."
Yeji moved to the ambient bar, pouring herself a drink she had no intention of sipping. The synth-glass trembled slightly in her grip. "Lower sector inspection was there along with resource allocation assessments. It's a routine." She kept her tone flat, professional, clipped at the edges.
"Routine." Vahn finally turned, a predatory gleam in his eyes as they raked over her worn synth-canvas trousers coated in fine, grey Gutter's Turn grime. "Your definition of 'routine' seems oddly synonymous with 'untraceable'. There are no filed logs, No security escort pings. Three times. Three descents into that… excrement this week alone." He took a slow step towards her. "Since when do you conduct Eclipse business like a thief?"
Yeji's knuckles whitened on the glass stem. "Since my movements stopped being your concern. Eclipse keeps its divisions compartmentalized, Vahn or have you forgotten policy?" She met his gaze, the penthouse's sterile light sharpening the angles of her strained face.
"Policy?" Vahn let out a short, derisive bark. "Pet, Eclipse policy is written through me." He closed the remaining distance, stopping barely a breath away, his expensive cologne thick and cloying, trying to smother the clinging Belt stench. His voice dropped, low and dangerous. "But forget policies. Let's talk patterns. Late nights hunched over encrypted files. Phantom meetings that vaporize off your itinerary the moment you leave Aeon Tower and then…" He gestured towards the vast window, finger pointing down into the perpetual twilight smog below. "That, smelling like exhaust and human despair. You've been jumpy, distracted and cold. So I asked a simple question: Where is she going? I had you watched and tracked."
Yeji slammed the untouched glass down, amber liquid sloshing onto the polished obsidian surface. "You tracked me? Like some corporate asset? Some threat?"
"More like a liability," Vahn countered smoothly, his gaze sharp enough to flense flesh. "You go ghost, you wear rags, you slither down into a biohazard zone where even Enforcement drones hesitate. So tell me, Yeji – what exactly is down there in that sewage pit that's worth sacrificing discretion? Worth risking your neck? Or mine?" He leaned infinitesimally closer, his cold eyes searching hers. "Is it drugs? Gambling? Or perhaps… a person? Found some starry-eyed rebel fixing leaky pipes? Playing savior to the gutter trash?"
Disgust twisted Yeji's lips. "Not everyone trades integrity for the highest bidder, Vahn. You wouldn't recognize real work if it crushed your hovercraft but I know what you do while I'm rebuilding decaying infrastructure, you cheat." She spat the word. "How was the Nebula Club lounge the other night? Warm? Comfortable? How is Keeva Vestris?"
A micro-flicker. A hesitation. Vahn's perfect veneer showed its first hairline crack. He drew back slightly, affecting amused disdain. "Jealousy? How delightfully primitive. Keeva is a stakeholder. A deniable instrument in lucrative… ventures. It's pure business."
"Business?" Yeji's laugh was brittle shattering glass. "Is that what you call spending four consecutive nights on her private yacht at Gemini Bay? Venturing into dénia territory?" She flicked her wrist. A compact shimmering sphere materialized between them, projecting holographic timestamps over the stark penthouse. Docking records. High-res sensor micro-stills: Vahn boarding the sleek pleasure craft 'Spindrift Serenade,' Keeva beside him, sparkling champagne flutes in hand, her hand resting casually on his forearm. Keeva laughing, head tilted back, Vahn's flawless smile reaching unfamiliar depths of warmth. "Your personal biocomp pinged inside that ship every idle hour for ninety-six cycles. Flagrant violations of Clause 14 security protocols. So… what critical Eclipse venture required you in Keeva's private cabin for four days, Vahn? Or was it harder work lying to me?"
Vahn stared at the incriminating feed, his face a mask of fury momentarily tearing through elegant indifference. "You hack my transponders? You spy on my movements like a jealous child? This is lunacy!"
"This isn't about Keeva!" Yeji's voice finally cracked, raw and furious. "This is about you! Bored. Restless. Untouchable. Slicing up lives and cities because you're bored! You move people like currency! Divert whole med-convoy flights packed with plague treatment while people die in the Brookhaven Sinks because it suits your timeline! You siphon funds from the Phobos-7 colony stabilization project into dodging orbit-tax lanes! You break everything you touch! You hollowed us out!"
Another flick. More projections blazed: charts rerouting vital medical ships, encrypted financial transfers bleeding resources from designated relief projects, coded manifests implicating Vahn's personal accounts. Proof etched in shimmering data streams. "Including us."
Vahn's composure fractured. In a blur of tailored silk, he lunged, not for the projections, but for Yeji. His elegant fingers clamped like durasteel bands around her wrist, yanking her close. His breath hit her cheek, hot and sour with fury and spilled liquor. "You reckless suicide!" he snarled, his voice stripped of all pretense. "You hoarded that poison? Every byte is chain-locked multilateral! You expose that, you don't tarnish me alone, Yeji, you drown us both! Eclipse burns you with me!"
Yeji wrenched her arm free, stumbling back. Her chest heaved, eyes blazing. All pretense, all carefully constructed corporate facades lay shattered on the polished floor. "No, Vahn. We drowned a long time ago. You just kept pouring liquid oblivion into the void." She strode past him, grabbing the discarded stinking duster from the divan. "We're finished."
"Finished?" Vahn's laugh grated, raw and jagged. "Oh, my darling viper, you've ached for this little rebellion. Run off! Play scavenger queen! Embrace the squalor! See how brightly your newfound principles shine when you're shivering in some sludge-hole, looking up at the world you gave up." He gestured wildly at the glittering vista outside. "See how long your loyalty to vermin lasts!"
Yeji reached the elevator platform without looking back. The doors hummed open. She paused on the threshold, silhouetted against the relentless glow of the city she once ruled. Her voice, when it came, was glacial, clear as fracture, echoing in the vast, wounded space.
"Longer," she said, eyes fixed on the endless lights below, "than your web of lies will last up here."
The doors slid shut with a final, soft hiss, severing worlds.
Behind her, Vahn Korvus stood trembling amidst the evidence of his ruin. With a choked roar that shattered the pristine silence, he hurled his crystal glass against the immense starmap projection wall. It exploded into a thousand glittering shards, like falling stars against the cold panorama of his defeat. Silence rushed in, sharp and smothering.