Victory brought unexpected complications. A figure from Waxwell's past appeared in the crowd, a friend who had shared rooftops and stolen scraps with him.
"You've changed," the friend said, eyes cautious. "I can help you—give you access, shortcuts to power."
Waxwell's gut tensed. Every offer carried risk. Loyalty could cost him opportunity; ambition could destroy relationships. He weighed the choice, considering the cost of trust in a city that punished mistakes.
"I've had to survive on my own," Waxwell said finally. "If I take help, it has to be on my terms."
The friend left, leaving Waxwell with the weight of responsibility. Every decision shaped the path forward. Every choice could elevate him—or end him.