The Registry did not sleep.
While Hook Street celebrated its survival with buns and broth, while children shouted Evan Sharp's name in alleys, while Pike nursed his rage with Rust Viper curses, the Registry was already moving. Bronze had failed. Silver would not.
Evan didn't know that yet.
He stood on the roof of a three-story tenement, arms crossed, eyes scanning the city that sprawled in every direction. Beyond Hook Street's crooked lanes, Lowwater stretched in a maze of smoke and lights. Towers rose crookedly toward the clouds, bridges hunched over black rivers, markets sprawled like open mouths. Somewhere out there, the Registry was waiting. Somewhere out there, speed would not be enough.
His panel pulsed.
Quest: Expand Your Claim.Objective: Seize a new domain beyond Hook Street.Options:• Claim the Docks.• Claim the Old Foundry.• Outrun a Registry patrol across district lines.Reward: Title Evolution — [Swift Claimant] → ???, +30 Speed, +1 Level.
Evan's lips tightened. Hook Street was safe for now, but he couldn't stop. The system itself demanded forward motion. If he hesitated, he would be prey again.
He leapt from the roof, boots whispering across tiles, and ran toward the docks.
The Docks were louder, wider, meaner. Lanterns swung from high posts, their reflections broken in the dark river. Cargo wagons rattled over planks slick with tar. Dock gangs strutted with clubs and brass knuckles, watching the crates as if they owned the water itself.
Evan slowed at the edge. The bond of Hook Street hummed faintly at his back, but here there was no hum. Just the stink of fish and salt and sweat. This ground wasn't his. Yet.
The dock boss was easy to find—a wide man with a scar across his nose, barking orders as men hauled barrels. He spotted Evan instantly and sneered.
"Well, well. Hook Street's ghost," he called. "You made noise in the alleys. But this is the river. Different rules."
Evan said nothing.
The boss smirked. "Not talking? That's fine. Boys—teach him the rules."
Half a dozen dock thugs moved forward, iron bars in their hands.
Evan's system flared.
[DING] Sub-Quest: Claim the Docks.Objective: Defeat the dock gang in front of witnesses.Reward: +20 Speed, Domain Bond (Minor).
The first thug swung a bar at Evan's head. Quickstep blurred him aside. His fist slammed into the man's gut, dropping him with a wheeze.
Another rushed. Burst Step cracked the planks as Evan drove his elbow into the man's chest, sending him tumbling into barrels.
The others hesitated. Echo Step smeared ghosts across the dock, confusing their eyes. They swung at shadows and hit only air. Evan darted through, fists and kicks snapping, each strike precise, each movement faster than their fear.
One by one they fell, groaning on the wet planks. The crowd of dockhands muttered in disbelief. The boss's sneer faltered.
Evan straightened, his voice calm. "The Docks don't belong to you anymore."
The panel chimed.
[DING] Sub-Quest complete.+20 Speed.Speed: 343 → 363.Domain Bond — Docks (Minor) acquired.
A hum stirred under his boots—not as strong as Hook Street, but present. The river air felt different, as if the water itself acknowledged him.
The dockhands shifted uncertainly. Some looked at Evan with awe. Others with fear. The boss cursed under his breath and stumbled back.
"Ghost's spreading," someone whispered. "First the street, now the river."
But far away, Registry Silver had already begun to walk.
She was tall, her coat embroidered with the silver insignia of sanction. Her hair was dark, tied in a braid, her eyes sharp as glass. She carried no weapon, but the air around her felt heavier, bending slightly with each step.
Her name was Aelira. She was Silver not for fire or stone, but for pressure—gravity that bent the world to her pace.
Aelira read the slate as she walked. Evan Sharp. Unregistered. Tier 1 Velocity. Bronze defeated. Hook Street claimed. Docks contested.
Her lips curved faintly. "At last, something worth stretching my legs."
She dismissed the wardens trailing her with a flick of her hand. "Stay back. If he runs, I want to see how far."
Back at the docks, Evan crouched, fingers pressed to the planks. The Domain bond was weak but growing. He could feel it—tide and timber whispering, the rhythm of water. The city was opening its veins to him, one street, one claim at a time.
Then Speed Sense prickled. His head snapped up. The arcs lit white in his vision, ghost-lines not of dockhands or crates, but of boots stepping closer, steady, patient.
He turned.
Aelira was already there, coat swaying in the river wind, eyes fixed on him.
The crowd stilled. Even the gulls were silent.
"Evan Sharp," she said, voice calm, carrying. "You run too fast for your own good."
The system blazed.
[DING] Hazard: Silver-tier ability-user detected.Threat Level: Extreme.Quest: Survive Aelira.Reward: +100 Speed, Skill Unlock.Failure: Death.
Evan straightened slowly, blood singing in his ears. His fists tightened. The Domain bond at the docks thrummed faint but real, siding with him already.
He smiled faintly. "Then catch me."
The planks creaked under his boots as he leaned forward.
Aelira's lips curved, and the air grew heavy. Buckets toppled. Nails groaned in wood. The dockhands staggered, bent under invisible weight.
Evan's Speed Sense screamed arcs, white lines bending downward under pressure.
The fight had begun.