Morning came without relief.
Iron Fang was still there.
Dominic knew it before he saw them. The slums carried tension like a held breath. People moved slower. Conversations died mid-sentence. Doors that usually stood open were shut tight.
The city was being sorted.
He rose quietly and checked the courtyard entrances. No guards had been posted, but that did not matter. Iron Fang did not need walls. They used pressure.
Lysa sat up beside him, her face drawn. "Someone is gone," she said.
"Yes."
"How do you know."
"Because no one is asking who."
They watched as Harn moved through the courtyard, marking his ledger. Each name he spoke carried weight. Each silence carried more.
A woman broke down near the eastern wall. Screaming. Pleading. Two people dragged her away before Iron Fang could hear.
Fear was contagious. Panic more so.
By midmorning, Iron Fang returned.
This time, they did not bring scouts.
They brought authority.
Six mercenaries entered the slums in formation. The collar devices at their belts caught the light. One man wore a red sash across his chest. Leadership.
He did not shout. He did not threaten.
He spoke calmly.
"We are here to recruit," he said. "Those who come willingly will be treated fairly."
No one believed him.
"We will take ten," he continued. "Those who step forward will be chosen last."
Silence.
Dominic watched carefully.
People did not move at first. They waited. Someone always tested the rule.
A man near the back stepped forward slowly. Middle-aged. Broad shoulders. Old scars.
"I will go," he said.
The Iron Fang leader nodded. "Good."
Two mercenaries moved to restrain him.
Then another stepped forward.
Then another.
Five.
They stopped there.
The leader waited. "Five more."
No one moved.
Seconds stretched. Eyes darted. Breath quickened.
The leader gestured.
Mercenaries surged forward.
Chaos erupted.
People scattered. Someone fell. Someone screamed. Clubs struck. Knives flashed.
Dominic moved instantly.
Not forward.
Back.
He grabbed Lysa and pulled her behind a stone pillar as bodies collided around them. He kept low, his movements sharp and controlled.
He did not fight.
He did not run.
He watched.
Iron Fang worked efficiently. They ignored those who struggled too much. They targeted the injured. The exhausted. The hesitant.
Disposable.
A boy tripped near Dominic. A mercenary seized him by the collar.
The boy reached out blindly and grabbed Dominic's sleeve.
"Please," he gasped.
Dominic froze.
For half a heartbeat, he considered it.
Then he let the boy go.
The mercenary dragged him away.
The screams lasted longer this time.
Lysa stared at Dominic, eyes wide and wet. "You could have helped him."
"Yes."
"Why did you not."
Dominic swallowed. "Because if I had, we would both be gone."
She shook her head. "You let him die."
"Yes."
The words tasted bitter. Necessary.
The courtyard emptied quickly. Ten were taken. Two did not survive the selection.
Iron Fang left without ceremony.
The city exhaled in broken pieces.
Dominic leaned against the stone pillar and forced his breathing to slow. His chest burned. His hands trembled slightly.
Behind his eyes, the system presence surfaced.
[Continuum Evaluation System]
Behavioral outcome recorded
Action: Non intervention
Result: Self preservation
Survival Probability: 16.2%
The number rose.
Dominic felt no relief.
Harn approached slowly, his face gray. "They took my nephew."
Dominic met his gaze. "I am sorry."
Harn laughed softly. "Do not lie to me."
Dominic did not.
"They will come again," Harn said. "And again. Until the slums are empty."
"Yes."
"Then what."
Dominic looked at the places where blood had soaked into stone. At the people who remained. At the ones who would not last another week.
"Then we stop being disposable," he said.
Harn studied him. "How."
Dominic did not answer immediately.
Because he did not know yet.
That night, Dominic could not sleep.
The boy's hand on his sleeve replayed again and again. The weight. The warmth. The way it had slipped free.
He sat up and focused on his breathing, forcing the warmth in his body to respond.
Slow.
Controlled.
Not enough.
Behind his eyes, the system presence lingered longer than usual.
[Continuum Evaluation System]
Emotional deviation detected
Stress factor: Increasing
Evaluation continues
Dominic clenched his fists.
Disposable meant replaceable.
He would not accept that definition.
Not for himself.
Not for Lysa.
Not forever.
Tomorrow, he would need something more than patience.
Because Iron Fang had made its mistake.
It had shown him the cost of waiting.