The subterranean auction chambers beneath the Starborn Consortium were unlike anything Raidan had ever seen. The walls pulsed faintly with synthetic light, tuned to the heartbeat of the chamber's AI host. Every breath of air tasted faintly metallic, and above them, projections of starlit galaxies rotated in slow, hypnotic arcs.
Despite his calm exterior, Raidan could feel the pressure building. This was not an auction of common trade or idle wealth. This was a war of resources, reputation, and shadow power. The items on display were not simply goods—they were the kind of assets that could change the fate of civilizations or start an interstellar cold war.
The attendees were no less dangerous. Warlords, corporate sovereigns, pirate lords, technomancer clans, and system monarchs—each bore a name that could silence a room. Cloaked identities, AI decoys, and astral projectors veiled them, but Raidan's Trader's Intuition flickered every time an invisible gaze lingered too long on him.
