We went at the second hour past midnight.
Ren had spent the afternoon sleeping, as promised, and emerged from his room at dinner with the focused, slightly haunted look of a man who had made peace with his choices. He ate a full meal, cleaned his bowl, and then announced that if either of us told him the plan was simple he would leave immediately.
"The plan is straightforward," Kaien said.
"That's close enough," Ren said. "Let's go."
The eastern district was the kind of quiet that only existed in cities at the hour when the last drinkers had stumbled home and the earliest market workers hadn't yet arrived. Not peaceful — just empty in a way that felt borrowed, like the city was holding its breath.
The storage house was on a narrow lane behind a row of dye shops. Stone-walled, single story, the kind of building that didn't announce itself. Easy to walk past if you didn't know to look. Easy to overlook on purpose, which was the point.
Kaien found the brick first.
