'Where could she have gone?'
I had just entered the city and perched on a rooftop near the gate, scanning the streets below.
She shouldn't be this hard to find.
I was about to leap to another roof when I heard the screams.
"A Drakonid's going crazy over there!!"
"She's burning everything!!"
Found her.
I jumped down without hesitation, sprinting toward the chaos. My body protested with every step, pain flaring with each movement.
This Drakonid was proving to be more trouble than she was worth.
By the time I got there, a crowd was still gathered around the fight. I shoved my way to the front, ignoring the protests and curses. And there they were, Elara and a white-haired man, locked in an all-out brawl.
The ground was cratered and scorched, melted stone still hissing. The crowd was loving it.
I was not.
My body throbbed with every step, and the pain didn't help my temper. I raised my voice, flat and sharp.
"Enough."
The word cut through the air like a blade. Both of them froze, mid-attack, their eyes snapping to me in surprise.
Elara said nothing. She just walked over and stood beside me, steam still rising off her shoulders.
The white-haired man, on the other hand, lit up like he'd just won the lottery.
"Griffin!" he called.
"You're late. You said four days. I got so bored I had to start a whole competition just to kill time."
Of course.
The line at the gates. The challenge.
It was him.
I turned without a word and motioned for him to follow. The guards would be here any second to clean up Elara's mess. Best not to be around when they did.
As we walked, whispers stirred around us like flies.
"Did he just stop their fight?"
"Wait, why's a Drakonid listening to him?"
"Who the hell is that guy?"
Ignoring their noise, I just kept walking.
Beside me, Jaime leaned in with a grin.
"Hey, Griffin. You not gonna introduce me?"
"You've already met," I muttered.
"Yeah, but like… not formally."
I sighed, more tired than annoyed. Let's just get this over with.
"Elara, this is Jaime. Jaime, Elara."
"Nice to meet you, Elara," he said brightly.
Silence.
"Uh, hello? Earth to Elara?"
She kept walking, eyes forward, jaw tight. Didn't even glance at him.
Jaime looked at me, confused.
I looked at her, suspicious.
'Weird. She's usually not this quiet.'
'Is she mad at him? Or at me?'
I figured she'd stay quiet. Until Jaime opened his mouth.
"Hmm. Too bad. Thought you'd at least pretend you had an excuse for getting your ass handed to you."
Elara froze. Her eyes lit like burning coals, and her smile curled into something predatory.
'Crap.'
"You've got some balls, human."
"So I've been told, lizard."
"You seriously think you were winning that fight? Take a look at yourself."
I glanced over. Jaime's shirt was vaporized, his jacket a memory, and his skin scorched in places, leaving him bare from the waist up except for his ringed necklace and somehow-intact pants.
"Yeah?" he shot back. "Well, I'm guessing that's not ketchup on your jacket."
I turned to Elara. A few splatters of red decorated her jacket.
Blood.
'Hmm, he managed to injure her, huh?'
Jaime squinted. "Hold up, is that Griffin's jacket?"
And just like that, things somehow got worse.
"Hah, I wouldn't be caught dead wearing his clothes," Elara snapped, irritation dripping from her voice. "I didn't want to wear this garbage. He insisted."
It was a black jacket with Sekuro and all the Soul MCs on it. Honestly, it was a cool jacket, but god forbid they admit that.
"Well, at least both of us can agree it's hideous."
Elara gave a rare nod, solidarity in disgust.
My brows twitched. That was enough backhanded insults for one walk.
"Both of you need to shut up. We're here."
The building ahead was small, brown, and looked like it was permanently closed. Most people would walk right past it without a second glance. It was very much open, the owner just had no sense of advertising, and he was a jerk.
I pushed the door open, stepping into chaos. Tools scattered everywhere. Wires dangling from half-assembled machines. A broken fan hummed in the corner like it had given up halfway through life.
"Sheesh, he's still not cleaning up after himself?" Jaime said.
Elara didn't answer, just curled her lip like the mess might jump on her. She clearly didn't want to be here longer than she had to.
I didn't blame her. This place still sucked.
Stepping over the slop, We made our way toward the back of the building. The deeper we went, the worse it got: more trash, more smell. It was starting to stink like something had died.
Elara looked like she was about to throw up, and Jaime looked like he was just waiting for it, probably so he could get it on tape.
'Honestly? That'd be funny to see.'
After a few minutes, we finally reached the back.
And there he was.
Dorian Lancaster.
Lying in the middle of it all like some tragic swamp prince.
I stared at him, disgust crawling up my face. He was really sleeping in this filth. Again.
"Is this the supposed engineer?" Elara asked, scrunching her nose.
Sighing, I kicked him awake.
"Get up already."
He flinched and shot up, his eyes scanning the room like he'd just woken up in a foreign land. His confusion lingered a moment longer before his gaze locked onto us.
"Griffin? What're you doing here?"
I didn't bother responding. Instead, I turned and started walking away, not even glancing back.
Noticing my move, Dorian scrambled to his feet, hurrying to catch up.
"Hey! Wait up!"
I dropped into one of his worn chairs, my fingers tapping on the armrest. "I need something from you."
He stopped in his tracks, crossed his arms, and rolled his eyes.
I could finally see him clearly, well, as clearly as anyone covered in sauce and sleep deprivation could be. His soft black hair was a disheveled mess, green eyes shadowed with bags, and pizza stains clung to both his skin and clothes like war paint.
'Well... he's not ugly. Honestly, kind of decent-looking.'
"When don't you need something from me?"
"I always tell you to learn this stuff yourself. But nooo—you always make me stay up all night, blah blah blah—"
'He's jabbering again.'
He always did this. Whether he was talking to me or just rambling to himself, the guy never shut up.
"Silence!"
Elara's voice cut through the room, sharp as a blade.
"I grow tired of your noise."
"Do as Griffin asks, nothing more, nothing less."
Dorian spun around, eyes wide like he'd just witnessed a murder.
His mouth opened, then closed. Opened again. Nothing came out.
'Sigh. I told her not to piss him off.'
He finally pointed at Elara.
"Is that... a Drakonid?"
"Huh?"
"Why didn't you tell me you were bringing one with you!?"
"Uhhh."
"Do you know how many designs I could unlock with a Drakonid here?"
'How didn't he notice her earlier…'
He just kept rambling, totally off-track, and I needed him to focus.
"Dorian."
"Yeah, what?"
"I need you to make me a new exo-suit."
"What happened to the other one?"
"It—"
"It's scrap."
Elara cut in before I could finish.
Dorian looked like he had just spilled his ice cream.
"I should be mad at you… but you brought me a Drakonid. So I'll let it slide. Give me four days and it'll be ready."
"Thanks."
"You guys done yet?"
Jaime strolled back in, kebab in one hand, soda in the other.
'When'd he even leave?'
"Oh, hey Jaime."
"Sup, Dorian."
Dorian ducked behind the counter, rummaging for tools. "So," he began, "once I finish this new exo-suit, what's the plan? Hunting terrors? More mercenary gigs? One of those police forces maybe?"
"No."
"Then what?"
"I'm going to Volcaris."
Dorian's head slammed into the counter as he scrambled up, eyes wide.
"WHAT!?"