The city of Glora pulsed above him, oblivious to what moved beneath. Waza followed Selene down a narrow stairwell, the air cooler, damp, and thick with silence. Every footstep echoed faintly, a reminder that this world below mirrored the city above dangerous, unpredictable, and alive.
Selene glanced back. "Here's where you'll see the veins of Glora. Every alley, every basement, every abandoned building hides its own game."
Waza's eyes adjusted to the dim light, taking in details most would overlook: faded symbols on the walls, discarded tools that spoke of trades and conflicts, and shadows that moved against the rhythm of the room. He felt the Vein pulsing stronger, syncing with the hidden currents of life down here.
They entered a large chamber, walls lined with graffiti maps and coded symbols. A group of people waited some leaned against walls, others sharpened knives or studied screens glowing with surveillance of the city above. Their eyes flicked to Waza and Selene, calculating.
"Welcome," said a man with a steel-trimmed beard and calm, sharp eyes. "You've been observed."
Selene stepped forward. "He's with me. Waza this is Mako. He knows what moves beneath the streets."
Mako nodded, scanning Waza from head to toe. "Observation alone won't save you. But it can teach. And you… you've got the quiet kind."
Waza stayed still, letting his eyes drift over the chamber. He noticed alliances forming in subtle glances, the hierarchy of attention, and who held influence without speaking. Each person here had power, and each power came with a price.
"Why show me this?" Waza asked, voice low.
"Because to survive above, you must first learn the city below," Mako replied. "The Obsidian Hand thinks they hold control. They don't see the shadows that feed the veins of Glora."
A sudden movement caught Waza's eye a woman stepping forward from the darkness. Her hair fell like black silk, and her eyes gleamed with purpose. "I'm Liora," she said, voice smooth. "And I'm watching you. Quiet ones are dangerous because they see what others ignore."
Waza met her gaze, silent but curious. The Vein pulsed sharply, as if acknowledging her presence. He realized that in this underground network, alliances weren't given, they were observed, earned, or taken.
Selene whispered beside him, "Watch closely. Every choice here changes the paths above."
Waza let his gaze drift around the room again. This was more than exploration. It was a test of observation, instinct, and patience. Every face, every movement, every unspoken word told a story. And he intended to read them all.