Waza moved quietly along the back alleys of Glora, footsteps muted on the slick cobblestones. The city had grown louder at night, but he didn't notice it; his attention was elsewhere on the patterns, the flow of people, the subtle currents that hinted at opportunity or danger.
Selene was ahead, her boots clicking against the stone. She glanced back, smirk tugging at her lips. "You always think too much," she said. "Sometimes you have to act."
Waza didn't answer. Action without understanding was reckless, and he had learned early that mistakes left marks sometimes permanent ones. Yet, there was a stir beneath his skin, the Vein pulsing faintly. Something or someone was near.
They turned a corner into a small plaza bathed in the soft glow of old street lamps. A figure waited there, leaning casually against a crate. Not a threat yet, but the presence radiated influence. Waza felt it instantly. Power, quiet but deliberate.
"This is him?" Waza asked, keeping his voice low.
Selene's eyes sparkled. "Depends on what you call him. Some call him the Broker. Others… a shadow king. He's a test, or a trap. Could be both."
Waza studied the man. He didn't move, didn't blink just watched. Every detail mattered: the way his shoulders relaxed, the subtle scanning of the surroundings, the faint smirk that suggested knowledge he didn't yet have.
A choice hovered in the air. Approach, or observe? Trust, or wait?
Selene nudged him lightly. "Sometimes you get what you want by moving first. Other times… you get crushed for it. Decide."
The Vein thrummed again, stronger this time. Waza felt its pull, guiding his instincts, warning him that in Glora, hesitation could cost more than blood it could cost position, opportunity, influence.
He took a deep breath and stepped forward. Not recklessly. Not loudly. But with intention. Every step measured. Every eye unnoticed.
The Broker's gaze shifted. Recognition flickered. A silent test.
"Waza," Selene whispered, almost amused. "Or should I say… Azen?"
Waza's jaw tightened. Name or no name, choice or inaction, Glora demanded something from him tonight. And for the first time, he understood: observation alone was no longer enough.
He would have to move and carefully.