The alley narrowed into a forgotten courtyard, walls slick with rain and shadow. Faint light leaked from cracked windows above, catching the mist in slivers. The city felt paused, holding its breath.
Drip… drip… drip.
A figure emerged from the fog. Lean, deliberate, familiar. My chest tightened, and I forced the sarcasm down my throat. Recognition hit like a fist I didn't see coming.
"Dylan." The voice was softer than I remembered, but the weight behind it carried a warning I couldn't ignore. "Stop looking for exits. There aren't any."
I blinked. Took a step closer. "Screw that. There's always an exit. You just have to notice it."
Elliot's face was… different. The lines that had once seemed careless now sharpened, edges honed by whatever had been happening while I circled the Veins alone. His eyes flicked past me, scanning the perimeter like he expected someone or something to appear.
Step. A stone under my boot shifted. He flinched, just slightly, but the motion was too deliberate to be accidental.
"You've changed," I said. Not a question. Observation only.
He smirked, the shadow of the old humor still there, but it didn't reach his eyes. "So have you. Smarter. More cautious. But you're still chasing the wrong idea. Escape isn't on the table."
I exhaled, dry, letting the tension roll out in a sarcastic edge. "I always did prefer a moving target to sitting ducks."
He chuckled, a short, sharp sound, and I caught a flicker of something an unspoken message I couldn't quite place. Protection? Warning? Threat? I couldn't tell, and that was exactly the point.
A distant metal clang echoed maybe a shutter swinging, maybe a stray pipe settling. We didn't flinch. The world outside felt distant, unreal, like the Veins had swallowed it whole.
"Why are you here?" I asked, stepping closer, careful not to show the tremor in my gut.
"To remind you." His voice dropped, almost conspiratorial. "You're not leaving. Not yet. Not alive, anyway. And the Syndicate… they've been keeping score."
I nodded slowly, taking in the space between us, the history, the unsaid threats lingering like smoke. Trust was a luxury I didn't have, and Elliot no matter how much I wanted him to be the ally I remembered was a walking question mark.
"I see," I muttered. "So, we play the same game. Different rules."
He didn't answer. His eyes just held mine, calculating, waiting. I wanted to laugh. I wanted to yell. I wanted to grab him and shake some honesty out. But I didn't. I had learned better.
Drip… drip… drip.
The sound faded behind us as we stood in silence, two players sizing up the next move in a game neither of us could leave.