Me and Elowen are still outside the market warehouse, ears pressed to the cold steel door. But the men inside already notice.
"WE'RE FRIENDS," I shout. "TAXMEN FROM THE GILDED LEDGER."
A beat.
"Dang it—they caught us," a man snaps to someone else inside.
I pull my revolver free and step back from the door.
Before I can turn—
BANG.
BANG.
BANG.
Gunfire tears through the steel—two shots scream past me, the third slams into my left leg. Pain explodes; I drop to my knee as teeth clack and breath punches out.
Elowen moves instantly.
She pivots, plants her feet, raises her revolver toward the door—
BANG.
BANG.
BANG.
BANG.
BANG.
BANG.
Six shots. Clean and brutal. She spends all her rounds.
A scream rips out from inside.
"AAAGH—!"
BANG.
They return fire. Elowen ducks as a shot sparks against brick. She snaps the cylinder open, hands already working, reloading by feel.
Gunfire trades back and forth. Muzzle flashes bloom behind the steel. Bullets crack the air above my head.
I don't fire. I crawl.
My leg burns with every drag forward, wet warmth spreading under my thigh. I grit my teeth and keep moving, shoulder low, body flat. The steel door blocks their view. Bullets hammer into it instead, some punching through, ringing loud enough to shake my skull.
I reach the door. Pull a knife from under my coat. Shardfang. I hook the edge of the door and pull it open just a sliver—
Then throw it in.
A beat.
TANG.
"Shardfang, duck—" a voice shouts.
BOOM.
The knife explodes into shards. Tiny metal pieces punch through the steel door.
I push myself up slowly. I glance at Elowen and nod. She nods back.
I open the door carefully.
Halfway open—
SWOOSH.
Two knives spin through the air toward me.
Both hit.
One slams into my left forearm. The other sinks into my left hand. Blood seeps through my coat.
If my forearm hadn't taken the hit, the knife would have pierced my heart.
I hold my breath, quick. Not letting a scream give me away. Elowen is right behind me. We step inside, slow, careful. Even our feet make no sound.
The room is stacked with crates. In the middle, a rectangular steel table has been flipped for cover. Most of Elowen's shots hit the wall opposite the entrance.
I aim at the table.
A head peeks out—
BANG.
Blood and flesh spray.
I take two quiet steps to the right. Elowen moves to the left.
"Wait—don't. Don't kill me," a man says from behind the table. "I can pay you."
"Are you Jasper Rook?" I ask.
"Yeah. I am. Please don't kill me."
"Then why did you shoot us?" Elowen asks.
"Taxmen collect phens…" he says, then pauses. "And lives."
"Oh," I say. "That makes sense."
"WAIT—WHAT?" he shouts. "You're not them?"
"We're from Hearthlight," Elowen says. "We're here to help."
Rook takes a deep breath, then lets it out. He throws his revolver aside.
"I'm coming out!"
He steps out with his hands raised. His right forearm is wounded from a gunshot. Blood drips from it.
I keep my aim on him as Elowen moves in. She circles behind him, pulls his hands down, and snaps cuffs around his wrists.
I focus on my left eye. Abyssal Eye awakens. My gaze locks on him. Then, by accident, I meet Elowen's eyes.
"Is it just me, or do your eyes look blurry?" she comments.
"Don't worry too much about it," I smile. "You take him back. I'll look around first."
She nods and leaves with Jasper Rook.
After they're gone, I remove the knives from my hand and forearm, slipping them into my knife pocket. I start searching the warehouse—first, behind the flipped steel table.
A corpse lies there, its skull crushed. I nudge it with my boot.
TANG.
A shardfang slides out. Too conveniently place.
I leap over the corpse, land flat, and use it as cover.
BOOM.
Shards scatter everywhere. Most that would have hit me are absorbed by the corpse.
A moment later, I check the body again. A paper—registry—and an IAM—gold—lie near his feet. I slip both into my pocket.
I leave the warehouse, following Rook's blood trail.
Outside, a small crowd has gathered. A man steps toward me.
"Was that a gunshot?"
I shake my head, tap his shoulder once, and walk past.
The trail leads me out of the market port and into an alleyway.
Elowen has collapsed near a house.
I rush to her. She's breathing, but shallow. Blood streaks her coat. One knife juts near her throat, deep but not fatal. Another rests on her chest, shallow—but a push and it would pierce her lung.
"You're bleeding," I say.
"He escapes," she whispers.
"Stop talking. Close your eyes."
I slide my hands under her and lift. Some people are watching.
"HEY, YOUNG MAN! IF YOUR GIRLFRIEND'S DEAD, JUST LEAVE HER!" an old man shouts. His friends laugh.
"The other guy—The vault assistant I think, he ran back toward the market. Knives flew out of his pocket! Weird, but I saw it. I'm not lying!" a woman calls.
I leave the alley, cross the street, and head straight for the Hearthlight building in the Western Outskirt.
Inside, a clerk steps forward.
"Welcome to Hearthlight. How can we help—"
Her eyes lift to me, then drop to Elowen in my arms.
"Oh." She straightens. "Okay. Follow me."
She leads me to a bench. I lay Elowen down carefully.
"You can go to the office," the clerk says, pointing to a door near the desk. "Captain Gary is waiting."
As I walk toward the door, I glance back. Clerks and workers are already moving around Elowen, lifting her gently and carrying her through a back corridor.
I enter the room.
It looks the same as Gary's office in the Northern Outskirt. Same desk. Same layout. Even the same lavender scent.
Gary is already seated.
"Elowen is injured," I say as I approach.
"That means you'll have to capture Jasper Rook on your own," Gary replies, leaning forward.
I pull out the registry and place it on his desk.
Gary picks it up, reads it, then sets it down.
"So this is how the Veiled Canon Order gets their IAMs," he says. "Greedy rats inside the Gilded Ledger selling them for phens."
"This registry belongs to a professor like Isaak Silva?" I ask.
"I don't know what kind of man this is," Gary says, folding the registry. "But he works for the Veiled Canon."
I nod. "I'll get some rest first. Then I'll chase Rook."
Gary nods back.
I leave the office, exit the building, and head straight for the tavern where I'm staying.
Later that night.
In my room, I sit on the bed.
I look down at my leg. The gunshot wound. Blood has already begun to clot.
I don't waste time.
I press my fingers in.
Pain slams through me. I grit my teeth and hold it in.
My fingers dig through flesh until they touch metal—the bullet, buried deep.
Slowly, I pull it out.
Blood spills down my leg and drips onto the floor, dark and wet.
I tear a strip from the bedsheet and wrap it tight around my leg, turning it into a crude bandage.
After that, I toss the bloody cloth out the window.
I lie back on the bed.
Close my eyes.
—
Back to my dream. To my abyss.
Water stretches beneath my feet, leading nowhere. Darkness fills the horizon, screaming void.
I wait. Time passes.
Then the water ripples.
I look down.
Two figures appear on the reflection side instead of one. Jasper Rook. And Elowen.
Jasper turns to Elowen. Elowen looks back at him. Their eyes narrow. Their bodies tense.
They step closer, then stop, leaving a careful distance between them.
"You're that Hearthlight agent, aren't you?" he asks. "What are you doing here?"
She ignores him and looks around instead. "Am I dreaming?"
"Let's not do anything stupid for now," he says, raising his hands, his body angled toward her. "This feels too real to be a dream."
She nods.
I bend and tap the water.
It swallows me—and spills me onto their side.
They both turn to me as I suddenly appear close.
Beads of sweat form on their faces. Their brows furrow. Their breathing slows, loud in the silence.
Rook swallows and takes a step back.
Elowen freezes in place and closes her eyes.
"Is this my time?" she asks, her tone calm. Flat.
I chuckle softly. "Funny girl."
She opens her eyes and lets out a small breath of relief.
Splash.
Rook takes another step back.
I turn to him. Fast.
"Why shy?"
"No—no—no," he says, stretching his lips into a forced smile. "I'm not shy."
"Come closer then." I hold out my hand and curl my fingers inward.
The water behind him lifts. A wave forms and shoves him forward, stopping him an arm's length from me.
"P-please…" His voice breaks.
"You're going to forget what happened tonight," I say. "You're going to forget the faces of everyone involved."
"Yes—yes—yes." He nods again and again, too fast.
"In the morning, after you open your eyes, the first thing you will do is take a small walk in front of the Hearthlight building."
"I… I… I understand."
I push him down.
The water swallows him. He disappears into the darkness.
Then I turn to Elowen and smile.
"Who are you?" she asks.
"Monsieur Abyss."
The moment the name leaves my mouth, her footing slips. She falls into the water. It drags her down into the dark.
Only then do I realize—
I just learn that I can control my own dream.
At least the water.
—
I slowly open my eyes.
It's still dark outside. The sun hasn't risen yet.
I get up at once, leave the room, and head down to the public floor. I pay for the night and step out of the tavern.
Straight to the Hearthlight building.
I stop outside and wait.
There's no activity yet. Not even inside the building. Across the street, a few people sleep on the ground, wrapped in coats and rags.
Time passes.
Smog—lighter than the Northern Outskirt—starts to rise as the sky slowly brightens. The sun climbs. People begin to stir. Doors open. Footsteps return. The street wakes.
Not long after—
A man appears.
Jasper Rook.
He walks alone toward the Hearthlight building. His coat is torn. His right forearm is still wounded, the bandage dark with dried blood.
As he gets closer, his face is drawn and pale. Eyes sunken. Lids heavy. The kind of tired that sleep can't fix.
I step into his path.
"Good Wednesday, Monsieur," I greet him.
"Good Wednesday," he replies without stopping. "What can I do for you?"
"Nothing," I say. "Actually, I'm the one who can help you." I glance at his arm. "You look tired. Hearthlight can fix that."
"Oh. Thanks," he says, almost absent-minded.
I turn slightly and gesture toward the entrance—one hand open, calm, inviting.
He takes two steps forward.
Then stops.
I turn back to him. "Is there a problem, Monsieur?"
He touches his chin with two fingers. His brow furrows. "Have we met before?"
"No," I answer at once. My face stays neutral. "I'm just helping a random stranger I just met."
My heart beats faster. Just for a moment.
He studies me, then exhales and shrugs. "You're right. Hearthlight is always helpful."
My heartbeat settles.
We continue inside.
I lead him through the building. Past the clerks. Past the lobby.
To Gary.
To his confinement.