The door opened into a wide chamber, and the smell hit them first — smoke, oil, sweat.
It wasn't a camp like before. This was bigger. Dozens of stalls lined the walls, made from broken wood and bent metal. Walkers moved between them, bartering loud. Tokens clinked like dice.
Riven let out a low whistle. "Now this looks like a real market. I'm finally home."
Kael didn't answer. His eyes went everywhere — counting doors, exits, people too still. The Compass at his chest pulsed faintly, not pointing anywhere, which made him hate this place already.
Seren grabbed his sleeve and pointed at a board near the center. On it, names had been scratched, rough and messy: debts, trades, promises. A "market ledger."
Kael's stomach sank. More records. More writing. Always writing.
The system whispered:
[Market Chamber Detected] Rule: Trade only with tokens. Fail: Debt will be written.
"Debt?" Riven muttered. "Yeah, that sounds safe."
They found a stall selling water in clay cups. The price was steep — one token each. Riven slapped his down without blinking. "Worth it. Throat's drier than Kael's sense of humor."
"Hmph," Seren scribbled, then pushed her cup at Kael instead of drinking.
He almost refused. Her eyes told him not to. He drank, throat easing for the first time since the last trial.
The noise of the market rolled around them. Walkers shouted trades, argued over scraps, pushed deals hard. Some looked too thin, some looked too rich. A pair of armed ones walked past with iron rods, clearly enforcers.
"Place feels wrong," Kael muttered, voice still raw.
"Every place feels wrong," Riven said. "This one just smells worse."
Seren pointed again. At the far side, under a tattered cloth roof, sat Lyra. She leaned on a crate, tokens stacked neat in front of her, smile sharp as ever.
"Fuck me," Riven groaned. "She's everywhere. Like a bad rash."
Lyra waved when she saw them, like they were old friends. "My favorite trio. Welcome to the Broken Market."
Kael's jaw clenched. He didn't move closer.
Lyra stood, spreading her arms. "This is where debts are born. Tokens move, names get written, lives get cheap. You'll like it here."
Kael rasped, "Not interested."
Lyra's grin grew wider. "Not yet. But you will be." She tapped the board of scratched names. "The wall remembers everything. Favors, trades, lies. The Ledger writes here too, just… faster."
Seren shoved a scrap at Kael: Don't deal.
"See, she's the smart one," Lyra said, amused. "But smart doesn't keep you alive. Tokens do."
Riven spat on the ground. "Yeah? Keep your tokens. I've got my charm."
"You've got your mouth," Lyra said sweetly. "Charm costs extra."
The air shifted, thick and heavy. A sound rolled through the chamber.
BOOOONG.
The gong echoed off every wall, deep and slow. The market stilled. Even the loud traders went quiet.
Kael felt it in his ribs. The Labyrinth had heard something. Maybe Lyra. Maybe them.
The silence after was sharp. Then, just like nothing happened, the market roared back to life.
Lyra sat again, still smiling. "Careful, Hollow. The Ledger's watching."
Kael's hand tightened on the Key. He said nothing.
They walked away, but Kael could feel her eyes on his back the whole time.