The corridor narrowed, walls slick with condensation and graffiti. Pipes overhead dripped at irregular intervals; each drop a ticking reminder that the Veins were alive and listening. My boots echoed, swallowed and returned by the low ceiling.
drip… drip… clank… hum…
Jonas leaned against the wall ahead, hands casually folded, the kind of easy posture that screamed confidence or arrogance. He glanced up, grin too smooth for the dim light. "You've been busy," he said. "Keeping track of everyone's little tricks, I suppose."
I tilted my head, letting the sarcasm coat my caution. "Busy? Me? I'm just wandering, taking in the sights. You know… casual tunnel tourism."
Jonas chuckled, stepping closer. His shadow stretched long across the wet concrete. "Funny. You always notice the little things, Dylan. That's dangerous in our line of work."
I let a pause hang, letting the echo of his footsteps fill the space, studying him. Every twitch, every shift of weight, every barely-there hesitation was a note in a symphony I was slowly conducting. "Dangerous? Maybe. Or maybe I just understand the rules better than most," I murmured, voice low, dry.
drip… drip… clank… hum…
He smirked, tilting his head. "Rules? You think there are rules here? Every man for himself, Dylan. You should remember that."
I leaned back against the wall, letting the damp chill crawl along my spine. "Oh, I remember. I'm just… better at it," I said, the words casual, but my mind cataloging every flicker in his eyes, every shift in his posture.
The hum of the machinery pulsed through the corridor, a low, constant reminder that the city itself was watching. My eyes caught a faint reflection in a puddle at our feet. His grin stretched thin for a heartbeat, almost human, then back to polished confidence. Almost predictable. Almost.
clank… drip… echo… shuffle…
Jonas stepped closer, voice dropping. "Careful, Dylan. Watch who you trust. And watch who's watching you."
I smiled faintly, letting my shadow stretch alongside his. "Trust? I learned long ago that's a luxury you don't get down here. But observation… observation is priceless."
He laughed softly, shaking his head. "Then I suppose we're at an impasse. Both watching, both calculating. Interesting."
I nodded, letting him think he had the upper hand, then pivoted down the corridor, footsteps swallowed by the dripping, humming tunnels. Behind me, Jonas's grin lingered but I knew better. He was just a piece. I was learning to move the pieces, one silent calculation at a time.
drip… drip… clank… hum…
The Veins swallowed my shadow, stretching it forward, a silent promise that every observation, every subtle manipulation, would matter in the game yet to come.