Dylan retreats to his temporary safehouse, the faint hum of electricity buzzing through exposed conduits overhead. The shadows in the corners twist with every flicker of the single swinging light bulb. The ledger sits open on the table, coded symbols staring back like taunts.
Buzz… click.
The screen on his comm-device flickers, Rei's face emerging from the static. Her expression is sharp, eyes narrowing as if piercing through more than just the feed. "You're starting to think like them," she warns, her tone clipped, almost clinical. "Careful that's how you get stuck."
I lean back in the chair, letting the weight of her words settle. "Stuck? Or surviving?" I ask, voice low, a reflexive quip that masks the careful calculations running behind my eyes.
The hum of the flickering bulb punctuates the pause, the soft drip of water somewhere beyond the walls filling the silence between us. Rei doesn't answer, only tilts her head slightly, the hint of a smirk playing on her lips. Then the feed cuts, leaving only the soft buzz of static in its wake.
I study the ledger again, Rei's warning echoing in my mind. Every decision, every trust, every step in the Veins has consequences. I realize that playing their game isn't enough; I have to think two moves ahead.
The room feels smaller suddenly, shadows pressing closer, the hum of electricity louder. I mutter to myself, almost ritualistically, "Two moves ahead. Always two moves ahead."
The warning isn't just advice. It's a challenge. A line drawn between the hunter and the hunted.
Outside, the distant clatter of the city pulses faintly through the walls, a reminder that nothing stops, nothing waits. And neither can I.