The narrow streets of Blackwater swallowed them almost immediately.
The noise tightened around them.
Space constricted.
Even the air itself felt heavier here—thick with smoke, heat, oil, and the constant churn of industry bleeding down from the upper levels of the city.
Above them, enormous pipes groaned like distant mechanical beasts hidden somewhere inside the walls.
Below them, Blackwater continued moving without pause.
The city never truly rested.
Aldric walked at the front of the group, bottle still in hand, though he was no longer drinking from it. His posture remained casual, but his eyes had sharpened noticeably now—less lazy, more attentive.
That alone was usually a bad sign.
The cultist stayed slightly behind Draven, her gaze constantly sweeping across the streets with quiet precision. Her earlier composure had returned, but a faint tension lingered in the way she moved now, like someone silently calculating possible threats before they revealed themselves.
Nia remained silent as always, drifting near Draven's side without ever needing instruction.
The black cat shifted slightly beneath Draven's cloak.
Not asleep.
Just watching.
Always watching.
Aldric finally spoke without looking back.
"The lower district's where things get… creative."
The cultist answered cautiously.
"In what way?"
Aldric tilted the bottle slightly toward a passing alley.
"In the way people decide laws are optional."
A group brushed past them at that exact moment—two armored mercenaries dragging a third man between them.
The man wasn't struggling.
He was already unconscious.
Or worse.
No one reacted.
No one even bothered looking twice.
The crowd simply flowed around them like water moving around a stone.
The cultist's eyes followed the scene for half a second longer than necessary.
"…This place is unstable."
Aldric snorted softly.
"Stable places don't exist."
A pause.
"Just places with better liars."
They turned another corner.
The street widened slightly into a cramped market corridor wedged between towering industrial walls of rusted steel and dark stone. Hanging lanterns flickered overhead, casting uneven light across crowded stalls selling everything from mechanical mana cores to questionable glass vials filled with glowing liquid.
The smell changed immediately.
Spices mixed violently with oil, blood, steam, sweat, and burnt metal.
Aldric finally slowed to a stop.
"Here's good."
The cultist looked around carefully.
"It is a market."
"Yeah."
Aldric gestured lazily toward the surrounding stalls.
"And markets usually have things."
Nia's gaze drifted across the crowd in silence.
The cultist continued scanning the surroundings before speaking again.
"…A market is exactly the kind of place where incidents occur."
Her voice remained even and controlled.
"Assassinations. Disappearances. Information trades. Illegal exchanges. Open conflict if the balance shifts too far."
Aldric glanced back over his shoulder.
"That's basically what I said."
"It is not."
"It is."
Her expression tightened slightly.
"You described it like it was convenient."
A pause.
"I described it like it was dangerous."
Aldric shrugged carelessly.
"Same thing."
Another pause.
"Different tone."
Then, quieter—almost muttered beneath his breath—
"I don't like that I agreed with you."
The cultist blinked faintly.
"…Why?"
Aldric took another slow sip from the bottle.
"Because agreeing with a dark rat usually means I'm standing somewhere terrible."
The cultist stopped walking entirely.
Very slowly, she turned her head toward him.
"…Did you just call me a rat again?"
Aldric looked completely unapologetic.
"I'm pretty sure I said it louder the first time."
Nia tilted her head slightly, silently watching the exchange unfold.
Draven, meanwhile, didn't react at all.
The black cat remained still beneath his cloak, eyes half-lidded and calm.
The cultist exhaled slowly through her nose.
"…You are incredibly annoying."
"Yeah," Aldric replied casually. "I've been told I have personality."
The group moved again shortly afterward.
This time, they turned away from the crowded market corridor and entered a much narrower side passage between two leaning industrial structures built from rusted steel and stacked black stone.
The sounds of the market dulled slightly here.
Not silent.
Never silent.
But quieter.
The distant echoes of machinery and the occasional hiss of steam vents replaced most of the crowd noise.
Eventually, the cultist stopped walking.
"This will do."
Aldric looked around the empty passage.
"…Really?"
"Yes."
He frowned slightly.
"We're standing in an alley."
"Yes."
"There are still people everywhere. Is this your idea of avoiding attention?"
"Exactly."
A brief silence followed.
Then Aldric narrowed his eyes slightly.
"…You're either planning something or you're just stupid."
The cultist turned toward him calmly.
"I am always planning ahead."
A pause.
"And I am not stupid."
Aldric nodded slowly.
"If that gives you comfort."
She ignored him completely and stepped forward into the center of the narrow passage.
Then she raised both arms.
Mana stirred instantly.
Not violently.
Not chaotically.
Controlled.
Structured.
Precise.
Thin lines of pale light spread outward beneath her feet, crawling across the ground like living ink forming an enormous circular diagram.
Aldric's expression sharpened immediately.
"…Huh."
The cultist spoke calmly without looking up.
"Step inside the formation."
For a moment, no one moved.
Then Nia stepped forward first without hesitation.
Draven followed immediately afterward.
Aldric lingered half a second longer before stepping into the circle with a faint scoff.
"…If this turns into a trap, I'm killing you first."
The cultist didn't even glance at him.
"Noted."
The final line of the formation completed itself.
A soft pulse of light spread outward—
then collapsed inward instantly.
For a brief moment, the world itself seemed to fold.
The sounds outside didn't merely fade.
They vanished.
Aldric's eyes narrowed sharply.
"…Oh."
The alleyway itself remained completely unchanged.
The same rusted walls.
The same cracked ground.
The same overhead pipes leaking steam into the darkness.
But beyond the edge of the formation—
the world no longer acknowledged them.
The market noise was gone.
The footsteps were gone.
Even the smell of oil and spice had dulled into near nothingness.
Aldric glanced outward.
A passing group walked directly past the entrance of the alleyway—
without reacting at all.
One man even stepped partially through the space Aldric occupied.
No hesitation.
No awareness.
No reaction whatsoever.
Aldric slowly turned his head, watching the man pass through him like smoke.
"…That's actually useful."
The cultist lowered her arms slightly.
"It is an illusion layer anchored to perception, sound, and sensory resonance."
Aldric raised an eyebrow.
"That's a lot of words for 'we're invisible.'"
"We are not invisible," she corrected immediately.
"If someone sufficiently strong or perceptive approaches, they may still notice the distortion."
Aldric smirked faintly.
"So we're invisible unless someone stronger notices us."
"Correct."
He nodded once.
"…So we're invisible."
The cultist closed her eyes briefly.
"If simplifying it incorrectly helps you understand, then yes."
Nia crouched slightly near the edge of the formation, quietly observing how the illusion distorted the surrounding light.
Draven finally spoke for the first time since entering the alley.
His voice remained calm.
"How long does it last?"
The cultist immediately turned toward him.
"As long as I continue supplying mana."
She glanced toward the outer streets beyond the illusion.
"It is stable, quiet, and difficult to detect unless disturbed."
Aldric tilted the bottle slightly.
"And if someone stronger than you shows up?"
The cultist paused briefly.
"…Then they would likely already be inside the formation before I noticed."
Silence followed.
Aldric nodded once afterward.
"Honest answer."
He glanced around the sealed alleyway again.
"…Still don't like it."
The cultist's gaze flicked toward him.
"That is understandable."
A pause.
"Your preferences are often unreasonable."
Aldric pointed lazily at her.
"See?"
"That's exactly why I call you a rat."
This time, the cultist chose not to respond at all.
Instead, she turned toward the rest of the group.
"We may proceed now."
Her voice remained calm.
"Inside this formation, we can act freely without attracting attention."
Aldric leaned slightly against the wall.
"Good."
A brief pause followed.
Then his gaze drifted toward the distant market beyond the illusion.
"…Because I've got a feeling this city's about to start paying attention to us."
His eyes narrowed faintly.
"And I'd rather we don't introduce ourselves first."