The corridor reeked of damp concrete and rust, the faint drip… drip… of water echoing in the distance. Shadows clung to the corners like cobwebs, stretching long and thin under the weak fluorescent lights.
A figure emerged from the darkness. Bruised, battered, and angry, she moved with sharp, deliberate steps that sounded louder than they should have too confident, too calculated.
"Kara," I muttered, not bothering to hide the flicker of surprise.
Her eyes blazed, and the swell of fury was almost convincing. "You weren't supposed to be here," she spat. "They set me up. Framed me. Left me for dead."
Drip… drip…
I raised an eyebrow, stepping closer. Every instinct screamed trap, but I kept my tone calm. "Ah. So the victim returns. How poetic."
She ignored the sarcasm, voice shaking with controlled rage. "I was ambushed by the faction's enforcers. They made it look like I betrayed them. Me. You know what I've done for this city, Dylan. You know I've been loyal."
Loyal. Right. I nodded slowly, letting the word sink in while filing it away. Too easy. Too clean. The bruises, the story, the timing it all smacked of rehearsal.
Creak. A distant door shifted somewhere down the hall. My eyes flicked toward it.
I let her speak, letting the words fall like breadcrumbs. She told of hidden messages, of her frantic escape, of secrets lost and lives endangered. Each sentence carefully designed to earn trust, each pause calibrated. And I swallowed every syllable while measuring the truth beneath it.
She came closer, closer than I wanted, and I felt the subtle tension in the air, the almost-imperceptible quiver of fear masked by anger. My gut tightened. The smell of wet metal and dust clung to me, mingling with something sharper deception.
"You think I can just forgive and forget?" I asked softly. "Because I can't. I don't do clean slates. Not here, not with you."
Her face faltered, just for a moment, before regaining the mask of fury. I caught it. That tiny slip told me all I needed: she was both weapon and target, and she didn't know which she was yet.
I let the silence stretch, letting the echoes of the dripping water fill the space.
Inwardly, I mapped her movements, her expressions, her every pause. She was a key, maybe a dangerous one, maybe not but I would need her. For now, allies were commodities. Trust was a currency I wasn't spending.
We continued down the hall, side by side, our footsteps muted against the stone floor. Every shadow could be an enemy, every sound a warning. But for now, the act was cooperation.
And I would play it to the end, even if it meant holding a knife behind my back for the woman I knew would betray me.