The morning sun of the Frontier didn't rise; it bled through the toxic clouds, painting the skyline of Rust City in bruises of purple and ochre. Inside the penthouse suite, the air was cool, circulating with the hum of purified mana fans.
Kael sat on the edge of the bed, shirtless. The sheets were tangled around Morgan's sleeping form, her skin a map of bite marks and bruises from the night before. She had passed out three hours ago, her stamina finally giving out against the demands of his Dhampir bloodline.
He stood up, walking to the window. He felt restless. The fight with the wolves, the Tribulation, the sex—it had been a good release.
He turned back to the bed. Morgan was a delicious toy, an A-Rank broken into perfect submission. But a king didn't play with the same toy forever.
"System," he thought. "Status of the Dead Zone approach."
SYSTEM ANALYSIS
Approach to Void Spire: Lethal.
Spatial instability: Class 5.
Navigation Probability without Guide: 12%.
Recommendation: Acquire a Navigator with Void Affinity.
Kael frowned. He could brute force his way through most things, but walking into a spatial anomaly blind was stupid. Even with [Void Phase], getting teleported into a volcano or the vacuum of space was a bad way to start a reunion.
"Alaric," Kael projected his voice through the suite.
A moment later, the scientist poked his head in, looking haggard. "You rang, oh dark and terrible one?"
"I need a guide," Kael said, pulling on a black shirt. "Someone who knows the Dead Zone. Someone who won't die the second we hit the first rift."
"You're asking for a miracle," Alaric muttered. "Most guides who go into the Dead Zone don't come back. The ones who do are usually insane or obscenely expensive."
"I have money," Kael said, grabbing his coat. "And I have ways of motivating people. Find me a market. A real one."
The Obsidian Market
Rust City had layers. The top layer was the shantytown for the desperate. The middle layer was for the merchants. But the real business happened underground, in the bowels of the Titan's ribcage.
The Obsidian Market was a black-market bazaar lit by luminescent fungi. Here, you could buy anything. Illegal cybernetics, stolen System skills on data chips, and people.
Kael walked through the aisles, his presence clearing a path. He wore his collar high, masking his aura, but the predatory way he moved drew eyes. Morgan followed a step behind, her hand resting on her hip where a concealed dagger lay. Alaric brought up the rear, eyeing the merchandise with scientific curiosity.
"The Slave Pens are this way," Alaric whispered, pointing to a heavy iron gate guarded by two ogres. "If you want a specialist, you buy them here. The Mercenary Guilds are too proud to deal with... well, you."
Kael smirked. "Pride is just a defensible position until you meet someone stronger."
They entered the pens. The smell hit them first—sweat, fear, and antiseptic. Rows of cages lined the walls, containing everything from Beast-kin to modified humans. Merchants shouted, advertising their wares like cattle.
"Fresh stock! A Pyromancer from the California Wastes! Level 60! Only 50 high-grade crystals!"
Kael walked past them. Too weak.
He turned a corner and stopped.
At the end of the aisle, in a reinforced cage made of null-steel, sat a woman.
She wasn't cowering. She wasn't begging. She sat on a stool, sharpening a small dagger with a whetstone, completely ignoring the world outside her bars.
She had dark skin, darker than the night, and stark white hair pulled back into tight braids. She wore the tattered remnants of a Navigator's flight suit, the insignia of the Earth Federation's Exploration Corps ripped from the shoulder.
SYSTEM ANALYSIS
Target: Unknown.
Race: Human
Level: 145 (A-Rank).
Class: [Wayfarer].
Abilities: Spatial Sense, Void Anchoring, Phase Shift.
Kael's interest peaked. A-Rank. And she wasn't collared yet. That meant she was dangerous.
He walked up to the cage. The merchant, a greasy man with a cybernetic eye, scrambled forward.
"My Lord! My Lord, you have an eye for quality! This one is a wildcat. Caught her in the static storms near the Colorado border. She's a Navigator! One of the best!"
"How much?" Kael asked, his eyes never leaving the woman.
"Ah, well, A-Ranks are hard to control. She's killed three handlers already. So I'm willing to let her go for a bargain. 200 High-Grade Mana Stones."
"200?" Kael laughed. "That's a steal."
The woman looked up then. Her eyes were a striking, molten gold. They weren't filled with fear, but with cold, lethal calculation.
"Don't buy me, pretty boy," she said, her voice smoky and rich. "You'll just end up with a knife in your throat while you sleep."
Kael smirked, stepping closer to the bars. The air around him crackled with [Singularity Domain]. The pressure pushed the merchant back, but the woman held his gaze, her grip tightening on her dagger.
"I like a challenge," Kael said. "And I hate buying things that are broken."
He turned to the merchant. "Open it."
"My Lord, the sedative—"
"I said open it."
The merchant, terrified by Kael's aura, fumbled for the keys. The null-steel door clicked and swung open.
Kael stepped inside the cage.
The woman didn't stand up. She just watched him, her muscles coiled like springs.
"What's your name?" Kael asked.
"Sable," she spat. "And if you take one step closer, I'll gut you."
Kael took a step closer.
Sable moved. She was fast—blindingly fast for a normal human. Her dagger flashed, aiming for the artery in Kael's thigh.
Kael didn't even dodge. He caught her wrist with his left hand, mid-strike.
Her eyes widened.
"Fast," Kael murmured, "but predictable."
He twisted her arm, forcing her to drop the dagger. He spun her around, slamming her back against his chest, his other arm wrapping around her throat. He didn't squeeze hard enough to choke, just enough to assert dominance.
He leaned down, his lips brushing her ear. He could smell her—a mix of engine oil, ozone, and the sharp, spicy scent of adrenaline.
"I'm not looking for a slave to scrub my floors, Sable," Kael whispered. "I'm looking for a guide to the Dead Zone. Specifically, the Void Spire."
Sable stiffened in his grip. "The Void Spire? That's suicide. Michael Hayes kills everyone who enters his domain."
"I'm not everyone," Kael replied. "I'm the man who's going to kill him. And I need a pilot who knows the currents."
He released her throat but didn't let go of her wrist. He spun her around to face him.
"Work for me. Navigate me to the Spire. If we survive... I'll give you the head of the man who put you in this cage." He gestured to the trembling merchant.
Sable stared at him. She saw the arrogance, the power, and the madness. She saw the heterochromatic eyes that promised death and glory.
"And if I refuse?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
Kael grinned, his fangs glinting. "Then I'll drag you with me anyway. But I prefer willing companions. They scream less."
Sable looked at the merchant, then back at Kael. A slow, dangerous smile spread across her face.
"You''ve got balls," she said. "Fine. I'll navigate you. But I want half the loot from the Spire's perimeter caches."
"Deal," Kael said instantly. "Alaric. Pay the man."
Alaric sighed, stepping forward with a card. "Why do we always end up buying the most expensive trouble?"
Kael ignored him. He was busy studying Sable's neck. The pulse point. The rush of blood.
He leaned in close again, invading her personal space. Sable didn't flinch this time.
"And one more thing, Sable," Kael murmured, his voice dropping an octave. "If you try to stab me again... I won't stop at breaking your wrist. I'll break your spirit. Do you understand?"
Sable's golden eyes flared. "Try it, Master," she mocked the title. "See where it gets you."
Kael laughed. It was a genuine sound of pleasure.
"Oh, we are going to have so much fun," he said.
He turned and walked out of the cage. "Come. We leave in an hour. Try to keep up."
Sable watched him go, rubbing her wrist. She should have been terrified. He was clearly a monster. But as she watched the way he moved, the way the shadows seemed to cling to him, she felt something else.
Curiosity.
And a heat in her core that hadn't been there a moment ago.
"Interesting," she whispered, sheathing her dagger. "Very interesting."