By the time their vehicle crossed the mountain pass, dusk had settled like a bruise across the sky. The walls of Verris rose from the valley ahead—tall, ancient, and lined with pale-blue wards that shimmered faintly in the dark. At first glance, it looked peaceful. Too peaceful.
As they entered through the outer gate, Shadow's instincts screamed. The air here was different—thicker, tinged with a faint metallic scent. Mana flowed unnaturally, like it had been twisted to obey something unseen.
"Welcome to Verris," Rena murmured, her tone laced with suspicion.
The streets were clean but eerily empty. Lamps burned with bluish flame, illuminating narrow alleys that vanished into darkness. A few vendors worked quietly, faces pale and hollow, movements stiff and mechanical.
Ryn shivered. "Why does it feel like they're watching us?"
"They are," Shadow replied softly. "From every corner."
He could feel it—thin threads of mana stretching across rooftops and walls. Surveillance spells. Old, crude, but powerful. The kind that whispered to their masters the moment something unfamiliar passed by.
They stopped at a rundown inn near the city's edge. The owner, an elderly man with trembling hands, gave them rooms without a word. His eyes never met theirs.
Later that night, gathered in a dim room lit by a single lantern, the group spread a rough map of Verris across the table.
Sera pointed to a marked area near the eastern district. "Information brokers say this part of town is controlled by bandit groups. But the reports are strange—no turf wars, no chaos. It's too organized."
"Because someone's holding the leash," Rena muttered. "Dark mages, most likely. Using bandits as muscle."
Shadow leaned forward, tapping his finger on the eastern district. "And what are they protecting?"
"Drug farms," Lena replied, her voice steady but low. "Mana-enhancing powder. Addictive. Cheap to make if you've got enslaved labor."
The words hung in the air like poison.
Shadow's gaze darkened. "So that's what Verris really is—one big front for black trade."
Rena nodded. "The guild here is in on it too. We'll have to tread carefully. Any wrong move and we're the next set of missing names."
Outside, a muffled scream echoed through the streets. None of them moved, but every hand in the room reached instinctively toward their weapons.
Shadow stood slowly, his cloak brushing against the floor. "Tomorrow, we investigate the eastern district. I'll go first. Alone."
"Like hell you will," Rena snapped.
He gave her a look—cold, resolute. "You'll only draw more eyes if we move together. I'll scout it, see what's beneath those farms. If I'm not back by sunrise, you'll know what to do."
The cube resting on the shelf pulsed faintly, as if in protest. Shadow placed a hand on it. "No," he whispered. "You're staying. If something happens, you'll guide them out."
The device quieted, dimming to a soft blue.
Rena's jaw tightened. "You're going to get yourself killed one of these days."
Shadow turned toward the window, where the city lights flickered like dying stars. "Maybe," he said quietly. "But not tonight."
And with that, he vanished into the night—one shadow among many, slipping into a city where even the silence was bought and sold.