Nine sat on the worn wooden bench, hands buried in the pockets of his coat, eyes fixed on the street ahead. Cars passed in steady intervals. Somewhere nearby, a dog barked once, then stopped. Morning light crept between buildings, pale and indifferent. The city moved. He did not.
Footsteps approached. Unhurried. Familiar.
Anthony sat beside him without asking, close enough that their shoulders almost touched. A paper bag crinkled as he set it between them.
"Morning, Nine."
Nine turned his head slightly. Nothing more.
Anthony reached into the bag, pulled out a muffin, and placed it in Nine's hand. Blueberry. Still warm.
"My mom made these."
Nine looked at it for a moment, turning it once in his palm, then set it on the bench between them.
Anthony smiled. "You always look at food like it might confess to something."
Nine exhaled through his nose. "Where's Anderson."
Anthony tore his own muffin in half. Took a bite. Chewed.
"He's not coming."
Nine did not look at him. "I did not ask that."
Anthony swallowed. Brushed crumbs from his fingers. "He didn't want to."
Silence stretched. A bus passed. Wind stirred dust near their feet.
Nine nodded once. "He still upset about Molly."
Anthony leaned forward, elbows on his knees, staring at the pavement. He folded the empty paper bag slowly, deliberately.
"Yeah," he said. "He wanted to be there. Wanted to know things before they happened."
Nine's voice stayed even. "She was dead. Knowing earlier would not have changed that."
Anthony glanced at him. "You know that. He doesn't."
Nine looked ahead again. "He will adjust."
Anthony smiled faintly. "Or he won't."
Nine finally reached for the muffin. Took a bite. Chewed. Swallowed.
"Not bad."
Anthony's grin widened. "Told you."
They sat in silence. Anthony ate. Nine finished the muffin without comment.
After a moment, Nine spoke again. "And you."
Anthony turned his head. "Me what."
"How do you feel about it?"
Anthony shrugged. "People die. Jobs keep moving. Nothing worth stopping over."
Nine studied him now. Not his face. His hands. Steady. Relaxed. No hesitation.
"Honest," Nine said.
Anthony smiled. "Always."
Nine wiped crumbs from his coat. Across the street, life continued. A man tied his shoe. A woman checked her phone. The city didn't pause.
Nine leaned back slightly. "What do you think about Ren?"
Anthony smirked, tilting his head like the question amused him. "She's boring."
Nine raised an eyebrow. "Boring?"
Anthony shrugged. "Mundane. Predictable. Whatever word fits."
Nine exhaled slowly. "Go on."
Anthony stretched his legs out, kicking a loose pebble off the sidewalk. "Right now? She's probably scrambling for leverage. Trying to figure out how to get me or Andie to flip, back her play. Basic move. Wouldn't work."
Nine waited.
Anthony grinned, all teeth. "Because Andie would rather die than betray me."
Ren thought she was in control, thought she had maneuvered herself into a power position. But she didn't understand that Anderson and Anthony were a package deal. She was playing the game with false pieces.
Anthony sighed, rolling his shoulders. "Anyway. Talking about sides… who's the other guy?"
Nine chuckled. "What, getting nervous?"
Anthony scoffed. "Please. Just curious."
Nine leaned forward slightly, hands still in his pockets. "You'll meet him soon."
Anthony clicked his tongue. "Cryptic as always."
Nine smirked, but his mind was already ten moves ahead. And somewhere else in the city, the fourth player was already in motion.