The alley smelled of rain and oil, a scent unfamiliar but not unpleasant. Waza followed Selene quietly, every step measured. His eyes moved constantly, noting the small things: a flick of a wrist, the way someone tilted their head, the rhythm of their breathing.
They stopped outside a nondescript warehouse. The scarred man from earlier waited, leaning against the wall with a cigarette burning low in his hand. Around him, several figures observed silently, their presence commanding without a word.
"You've seen enough to survive visually," he said, eyes locking on Waza's. "But survival is not just seeing. It's knowing the weight behind every glance, every gesture."
Selene stepped closer. "Remember, Waza, power is more than strength. It's control, patience… and reading the invisible lines that hold this city together."
Waza nodded subtly. Inside, the Vein pulsed faintly. It guided him, giving sensations he hadn't yet named a whisper of intention, a hint of danger.
From the shadows, a woman emerged. Dark hair, sharp eyes, and a presence that felt like it could command a room without speaking. She studied Waza, her gaze both curious and critical.
"This is Mara," Selene whispered. "One of their strongest operators. She'll test you."
Waza's posture didn't change. He observed her movements, the way her fingers brushed against her jacket, the subtle shifting of her weight. Everything spoke if you listened.
Mara stepped forward. "You think you can handle this city?" Her voice was smooth, almost playful, but carried an edge that made Waza's instincts tighten.
Waza answered nothing. His silence itself was a statement.
Selene's hand brushed his arm again, a quiet reassurance. "You don't need words. Just watch."
Mara circled him, slow and deliberate, eyes scanning, assessing. "Most fail," she said, finally stopping in front of him. "They see, but they don't understand. They act too soon, too loudly… and they vanish."
Waza tilted his head slightly, letting his gaze meet hers, absorbing every detail. The Vein hummed faintly, connecting him to the subtle currents of power Mara exuded.
"Observation is more than eyes," Mara said softly, almost a whisper. "It's patience. Anticipation. Silence."
Selene smiled faintly. "He's learning. Slowly, but he is."
Waza's mind cataloged everything Mara's gestures, her tone, the way the scarred man watched him, even the rhythm of Selene's breathing nearby. Every detail was a thread in the invisible network of influence that held this city together.
The scarred man finally spoke. "Good. You survived your first assessment. But remember seeing isn't enough. Understanding takes time… and mistakes are costly."
Waza said nothing, letting the silence speak.
And in the quiet hum of the warehouse, he realized something he hadn't yet admitted: the neighboring city was a different kind of game, and he was just beginning to learn the rules.