Across the alley, Jasper was moving like clockwork, revolver snapping in tight arcs.
CRACK. CRACK. CRACK.
Bullets hung in the air, then ricocheted wild, sparking off walls, dropping the last bandits one by one.
When the final body hit the dirt, Dwarven strode over. He clapped Jasper on the shoulder, lips quirking into a grin.
"Maybe the old man was right. You 'jins do have some of the best gunplay. We should duel one day."
Jasper's eyes widened. She waved her hands quickly in protest, shaking her head with a nervous smile.
"Come on!" Dwarven teased. "I bet you're really strong."
She crossed her arms in an X and squeezed her eyes shut in refusal.
Dwarven burst out laughing. Jasper cracked one eye open, startled, then both. The laughter was real—rolling, unrestrained. Against her own will, she mutely laughed with him.
For the first time all day, Jasper smiled without weight.
The moment faded as Dwarven caught something in his peripherals. He turned.
The bodies.
One by one they unraveled—flesh peeling into threads of Luzid energy, dissolving into the air like smoke.
The sight still unsettled him.
Jasper didn't even flinch. Her cold eyes said she'd seen it all before.
They'd been cycle'd—carried off by Luzid energy into the afterlife known as the Wave. Where, maybe, the energy would gather them again and cast them back into new lives.
Dwarven's gaze softened as he watched the Luzid threads dissolve into the air.
"How lucky you are out here," he murmured. "In the Undermountain, bodies don't go to the Wave. They just sit. Rot."
Jasper's eyes flicked to him. He didn't look back—just kept watching the last wisps unravel.
"It's tradition there—only bury your own. Belheim superstition. They say if you touch the dead of another's lineage, their spirit'll curse you. So most folks just leave the corpses for the family." His lip curled. "But what family can identify a man if a headhunter took his head?"
He spat the words bitterly. "When they're left unburied, the sickness comes. Predators too. I've seen whole towns wiped out because three bodies lay rotting in the street. But bandits don't care. They drop the corpse, take the head, and run to collect their reward."
His fists clenched tight. "I can't abide that. That's why they call me the Grave Digger. I hate the name. But…I guess there's a kind of kindness in it."
Jasper's expression eased. For a moment she reached out, fingertips brushing toward his sleeve—
Then the sound hit.
Boots pounding the street.
Mercs surged into the alley, shadows cutting through the smoke, weapons raised. The moment was gone.
At their head was a face Jasper knew too well—one of the men who had ambushed her escort, the same grin she remembered through blood and fire.
Her revolver snapped up, red eyes burning—
—and Dwarven's hand clamped over the barrel. He lowered it firmly, shaking his head.
"You know, when he said these mercs were your crew I thought he was just blowing smoke, Turns out there was some truth to that huh? Duo."
A new voice cut through the din—smooth, mocking, too familiar.
"Yeah, the south's a big place. Sometimes you gotta hire help to get shit done."
The mercs shifted as he stepped forward, smirk plastered across his face. His steel gauntlets clanked as he busted his knuckles together, the sound sharp as popping bones.
"I'll be damned. Been looking for you all day, Grave Digger." His eyes slid to Jasper at Dwarven's side. "And look at this—what are the odds you'd be traveling with the girl we've also been hunting?"
He chuckled, low and pleased. "Fortune smiles. Shriek's waiting for you at the saloon down the road. But first—" He gestured lazily, gauntlet whirring. "We'll be taking her."
The Mechanica flared to life, Luzid light spilling through the seams of his gauntlets. A thin string of energy unraveled, almost invisible until it snared Jasper, binding her to him.
"Couldn't grab you last time—your bodyguard gave us trouble. But we fixed her." He flicked his wrist, and the string tightened.
Jasper screamed as she was yanked off her feet, flung through the air toward him. Her arm shot out, reaching for Dwarven—pleading.
But Dwarven only shook his head.
Duo caught her mid-flight, locking her in one arm before tossing her to a waiting merc. Rough hands seized her, binding her fast. Another yanked a black bag over her head.
The alley fell silent but for Jasper's muffled cry as the mercs dragged her away.