The streets of the Lower Quarter were alive with noise—vendors shouting, pots clanging, the smell of sweat and dust hanging in the air. Through the chaos, three boys sprinted like stray dogs with their tails on fire.
Arjun was in the lead, his lungs burning, the sound of guards clanging after them. He risked a glance back—and that single mistake nearly ended him. His shirt snagged on the edge of a horse's saddle, and with a rip, the cloth tore away. He stumbled forward bare-chested, red-faced, the guards roaring with laughter behind him.
Kiro wasn't faring much better. He ducked into the nearest doorway, thinking he'd found a shortcut. The smell hit him first. Too late. He slid to a stop inside a cramped room where an old man was relieving himself.
The man shrieked. Kiro shrieked louder. Both tried to run, but the old man's piss hit Kiro's leg like a curse he'd never forget.
Behind them, Riku spotted a small hole in a crumbling wall. "Perfect!" he shouted, squeezing himself inside. His hips wedged halfway through, legs kicking helplessly in the air.
"Pull me!" he cried.
Arjun and Kiro, still running, only glanced back and burst into laughter.
By the time the guards caught Riku's flailing legs, Arjun and Kiro were gone, their stolen pouch of gold jingling with each desperate stride.
But luck wasn't on their side. As Arjun ducked into an alley, he felt something odd—lighter steps, an emptier sound. He looked down at the pouch in his hand. A hole had split open at the bottom. Each coin had slipped out like mocking laughter, leaving a glowing trail behind them in the dirt.
"We're ruined!" he shouted, his voice cracking with despair.
Kiro bent over, wheezing with laughter despite his soaked pants. "All that running… for nothing!"
The guards were still behind, but the boys didn't care anymore. Their lungs burned, their stomachs cramped, and every curse they knew spilled from their mouths as they staggered out into the open market.
That was when fate twisted the knife.
A wealthy merchant walked past, leading a donkey laden with goods. His pockets jingled—too loud, too tempting. The boys exchanged a glance, the same wicked grin spreading across their dirt-streaked faces.
"New plan," Arjun whispered.
They stalked the man like alley cats, waiting for the right moment. But the merchant was sharper than he looked. The instant Arjun reached for his pouch, a fist like iron slammed into his jaw. Stars exploded across his vision.
Kiro lunged to help—but the merchant spun, his boot colliding with Kiro's stomach, sending him sprawling in the dirt.
Riku finally wriggled free of the wall and came charging in, but the merchant swatted him aside like a fly. His palm cracked across Riku's backside so hard it echoed through the square.
By the time the boys scrambled to their feet, their asses stung like fire and their pride was in tatters.
"Run!" Arjun barked, clutching his swollen cheek.
They dashed away, yelping like whipped dogs, pants slipping down their waists, curses flying at the merchant who barely looked winded.
Their laughter and complaints blended together as they disappeared into the maze of alleys. Another failed heist. Another day in the Lower Quarter.
But somewhere above, high in the endless sky, the world itself shuddered. A sound like cracking glass echoed across the heavens. For a heartbeat, the entire galaxy burned yellow and red, every star blinking out in silence.
No one in the streets noticed. Not yet.
But the three boys—panting, bruised, and half-naked—had just run headlong into a future much bigger than stolen coins.