Takeshi sat alone at a scarred wooden table a few tunnels away from the Rust Room.
The pistol from Marcus lay in his palm - all sharp edges and expensive materials, a compact predator resting dormant. Inside, a faint electric hum, persistent as a mosquito.
He thumbed the magazine release, checked the empty feed, pressed the mag back in until it clicked. Fifth time in two minutes.
His grip tightened around the weapon like he feared it might vanish.
The air smelled like citrus, dust, and old metal. He breathed through his nose. In. Out. In. It somehow pulled him somewhere he couldn't afford to go.
Three small bowls on a wooden floor. Laughter. His daughter stealing pickled plums and swearing it was the cat. His wife's hands stained with tea, smiling so wide the kitchen lantern's light reflected in her immaculate teeth.
That lantern had gone out years ago and never came back.
Footsteps approached - not hiding. Takeshi didn't look up.
Raizen stopped a respectful distance away. The boy had grown a lot since he arrived in the Underworks. Taller. Broader across the shoulders. The Rust Room did that - fed you your own limits and asked if you wanted seconds. Raizen always said yes. His dirty blond hair had grown longer now, tied in a knot at the back of his head.
He cleared his throat. Waited. When Takeshi didn't offer an opening, he spoke.
"I thought Marcus's bodyguard kept that pistol locked."
"He liked to think so." Takeshi's voice came out flat. "But this gun was never meant to be safe."
Raizen shifted his weight. "You planning something I should know about?"
Takeshi set the rag down, turned the pistol sideways, checked the safety again. "You've got sharp eyes, kid. As usual."
He glanced past Raizen into the hallway, seeing something only he could. Silence settled between them, filled only by the distant murmur of the Underworks.
"I've heard people whispering," Raizen said finally. "About the Moirai."
"People whisper when they're bored or afraid. Sometimes both."
"You believe they exist."
Takeshi rotated the pistol, pressed the slide, listened to the mechanics click. "No. I know they exist. I saw them. With both my eyes, back when I had them."
He set the pistol down carefully. When he spoke again, his voice carried a dangerous kind of calm. "Those men in masks came through a door that shouldn't have opened. They took lives just to prove they could. They came to silence the voices that wanted freedom."
"So you fought them."
"I only ended up bleeding." Takeshi's thumb hovered where metal met flesh. "I bled a lot. They took my eye and my left arm."
"A reminder" Raizen said quietly.
"A reminder doesn't heal you. It teaches you not to forget."
Raizen stepped closer to the table. His eyes flicked to the gun and back. "If they're what the whispers say - if they're truly untouchable - you can't go alone."
Takeshi's mouth curved into something that didn't reach his eyes. "You should tell the sea not to be wet while you're at it."
"I'm serious. If you've been searching for them all this time—"
"So am I." Takeshi finally looked up.
Their eyes met. The weight in Takeshi's look could have anchored ships.
Raizen tried a different angle. "Granny Louissa says the Moirai are just a story. Something people use to explain what terrifies them. Maybe they're a mask for a dozen different groups. You know all the gangs in the Underworks- Maybe these "Moirai" don't even exist."
"Maybe," Takeshi agreed. "But maybe I'll put my blade in the smoke and find someone pierced by it."
Raizen's jaw tightened. "You want me to ask to come with you. You want me to force it so you can refuse and make it simple."
Takeshi met his eyes properly for the first time. The boy saw more than most. That was going to be a problem for him later… Or it would save him. Hard to tell which.
"This is my mission," Takeshi said. "My blood. My fight. The debt is written in my handwriting. I can't ask you - or anyone else - to be part of it."
Raizen's fingers curled into fists. "Fine. Have it your way."
Then he leaned closer and whispered in Takeshi's ear.
"But I won't forgive you if you die."
Silence stretched between them like a wire pulled taut.
Takeshi stood. "Come on. We're going to Louissa's."
✦ ✦ ✦
They walked through the Underworks' evening shift - vendors closing stalls, lamps flickering one by one, the usual hum of people finding their way home.
Raizen talked about the duels, hands animated. "Arashi's fast, but I swear I almost had him on that last exchange. If I'd just—"
Takeshi stopped walking.
His eye went up immediately. High above, where the massive support pipes crossed the Tangle, between catwalks and suspension cables stretched into shadow…
There.
A figure stood on a distant pipe. Black suit. White mask. Perfectly still, hands at sides. No floating knives. Just... There. Watching.
Takeshi's flesh hand moved toward his coat, muscle memory reaching for the pistol.
"Takeshi?" Raizen's voice pulled him back.
He blinked. When he looked again, the pipe was empty. Just shadow, steam and the faint hiss of vents.
"You okay?" Raizen asked.
Takeshi forced his shoulders to relax. "Oh, hm. Yes, I'm fine. Thought I saw something."
"Saw what?"
"Nothing." He started walking again, faster now. His mind calculated angles, distances, timing. The figure had been watching them specifically. He was certain. The position gave perfect line of sight to this exact street.
His jaw tightened.
"—and Keahi just laughed, which was weird because she seems so quiet, but Arashi said she's always like that when—"
Takeshi wasn't listening anymore.
✦ ✦ ✦
Louissa's door stood half-open, warm light spilling into the corridor. Obi and Hikari were gone - sent to the market for whatever granny sent them after, probably.
"Boy," Louissa said to Raizen without looking away from Takeshi. "Fetch me the kettle. And the strong mint leaves."
Raizen hesitated, but her tone left no room for argument. Louissa threw him a striking look that said "Now."
Raizen disappeared into the back.
Louissa pulled a stool closer and sat. The old wood creaked. "I'm not your conscience, Takeshi." Her voice was gentle but firm. "Even if I were, you wouldn't listen."
"That's true."
"I remember you before the patch," she continued. "Fast. Dangerous. Too proud to be careful. Real good at leaving without saying goodbye."
Takeshi didn't answer.
"I've also seen boys who took on battles that weren't theirs. Their legends got older. They never did."
He almost smiled. "You're making me decide I'm wrong without saying it."
"I'm letting you hear your own selfish reasons out loud. Sometimes the echo tells you something the voice never did." She leaned forward. "Learn to listen."
Raizen returned with a battered kettle and three mismatched cups. The smell of strong leaves filled the small room - bitter, grounding.
Louissa poured for Takeshi first. He took the cup without drinking.
Raizen remained standing. "If you go and you don't come back, no one will even know which door to knock on. They'll just say the Moirai took another rumor. That's not a better ending than the one you're trying to write."
Takeshi watched the steam rise. In the cup's reflection, the kitchen lantern returned for half a second. His daughter's finger pressed to her lips, daring him to laugh. His wife's hand pushing hair from his eyes.
The memory was too vivid. Too real for something years dead.
"I'm not writing an ending," Takeshi said quietly. "I'm cutting out a cursed sentence that shouldn't have been there in the first place."
Louissa sipped her tea. "Imprecise cuts bleed longer. You should know that best."
Raizen set his cup down untouched. "If that's what you want, I won't ask to come. But I won't pretend to be careless either."
Takeshi stood. The chair legs scraped stone. He slid the pistol deeper into his coat and looked at Raizen - found the boy's stubborn expression almost funny.
"I've been many things," he said. "Good at very few of them. Now I can only be good at this one."
Louissa shook her head like he'd told her the market was out of rice. "What can I say? My old bones don't chase anymore. They wait and listen. If you come back, I'll still be here to hear the parts you want to say."
And if I don't come back?
The words stuck in his throat.
He turned toward the corridor.
Raizen followed him to the doorway.
Takeshi knew these tunnels the way a blind man knows a room - every turn, every pipe, every shadow. He'd spent months searching. Years mapping. Tonight, finally, he had a direction.
He paused at the threshold. Just for a moment.
It was a small thing, but Raizen saw it. Louissa did too, though she pretended not to.
Takeshi turned his head and walked into the corridor.
Raizen stood in the doorway until the footsteps vanished.
✦ ✦ ✦
Takeshi kept walking.
At the end of the street, he paused. For the first time that night, he glanced back.
His cloak hid his mouth, but his eye betrayed him - carrying a weight heavier than steel, older than scars.
The man who stepped into the dark wasn't Takeshi anymore.
It was everything the Moirai had failed to kill.