The silence hangs for a second too long.
Karan shifts beside me.
"…he's gone," he repeats.
I'm still crouched.
Still staring.
Waiting for the rest of a sentence that never came.
"They took her because—"
It loops in my head.
Over and over.
Incomplete.
Useless.
I push myself up slowly.
My legs don't feel stable.
But they hold.
Barely.
"We move," I say.
Karan watches me.
"Just like that?"
"What else do you want to do?" I snap.
He doesn't answer.
Because there's nothing to say.
The body behind us is already cooling.
And Meera is still out there.
Somewhere.
We leave.
No ceremony.
No looking back.
Just movement.
The streets feel tighter now.
Like everything is closing in.
We follow what little we have.
Fragments.
Words.
"Trading."
"Exchange."
"Value."
It's not a direction.
It's a guess.
But it's all we've got.
Karan walks slightly behind me.
Watching.
Not the street.
Me.
"You're thinking too much," he says.
"Better than not thinking at all."
"That's not what I mean."
I don't respond.
Because I know what he means.
He means I didn't react back there.
Didn't get angry.
Didn't lose control.
That's new.
That's wrong.
We turn a corner.
And the air changes.
Not physically.
But it feels different.
Heavier.
Occupied.
"You feel that?" Karan asks.
I nod.
"Yeah."
We slow down.
Careful.
Listening.
Voices.
Not screams.
Not panic.
Talking.
Low.
Controlled.
We move closer.
And then we see it.
The trade zone.
It's not marked.
No sign.
No structure.
Just a wide open street surrounded by broken buildings.
But it's full.
People.
Players.
Civilians.
Clusters forming.
Deals happening.
No one hiding.
No one pretending.
It's open.
Blatant.
Wrong.
Karan exhales slowly.
"…this is real."
I don't answer.
Because I'm already watching.
A man stands in front of a group.
Hands raised slightly.
Talking fast.
Desperate.
"I can work," he says. "I can carry, I can—"
One of the players cuts him off.
"Too weak."
"Please—"
"Move."
They shove him aside.
He stumbles.
Falls.
No one helps him up.
Another deal nearby.
A woman holding a bag.
Trade offer.
A player inspects it.
Shakes his head.
"No value."
She looks like she might break.
But she doesn't.
She just nods.
Walks away.
Empty.
Karan's fists clench.
"This is insane," he mutters.
I scan the area.
Trying to understand.
Trying to find patterns.
Rules.
There are none.
Or too many.
Then I see it.
A group of players.
Standing over someone.
Not negotiating.
Deciding.
The person on the ground is tied.
Gagged.
Struggling.
One of the players speaks.
"Level?"
Another answers.
"Two."
"Skills?"
"Unknown."
The first one shrugs.
"Low value."
The person on the ground thrashes harder.
Desperate.
"Wait," another player says. "We can bundle."
"Bundle?"
"Yeah. Two low value for one mid."
They all consider it.
Like it's normal.
Like it makes sense.
My chest tightens.
Karan steps forward.
"Don't," I say.
He stops.
"…they're trading people," he says.
"I see that."
"And you're just standing there?"
"Yes."
He turns to me.
Anger clear.
"We should do something."
"What?" I ask.
"Anything."
"That's not a plan."
"They're not even hiding it!"
"I know."
"Then why are we—"
"Because if we move now," I cut in, "we die before we get anything useful."
He stares at me.
"You sound like them."
That hits.
Hard.
I don't react.
Not immediately.
Because part of me knows he's not wrong.
"I'm not them," I say quietly.
"Then act like it."
"I am."
"No, you're calculating."
"Yes."
"Since when?"
I don't answer.
Because I don't know.
Or maybe I do.
And I don't like it.
A shout breaks the tension.
"Deal confirmed!"
A group nearby exchanges something.
A weapon.
For a person.
The person is dragged away.
No resistance left.
Just empty movement.
Karan looks away.
He can't watch.
I keep looking.
Because I have to.
Because somewhere in this—
is Meera.
And if I lose control now—
I lose any chance of finding her.
"Look," I say.
Karan follows my gaze.
Another group.
Smaller.
Quieter.
A man stands in front of another.
Holding someone by the arm.
The person looks barely conscious.
"Three units," the man says.
The buyer shakes his head.
"Two."
"Three."
"Two or I walk."
The man hesitates.
Then nods.
"Fine."
The person being held looks up.
Confused.
"…what?" they whisper.
The man doesn't look at them.
Doesn't explain.
Just hands them over.
I feel something twist inside me.
Karan doesn't even try to hide his reaction.
"Did he just—"
"Yes," I say.
"His own teammate?"
"Yes."
Karan takes a step forward again.
"Enough."
I grab his arm.
"Not now."
"Let go."
"No."
"They're selling each other!"
"I know!"
"Then why are we—"
"Because we need information more than we need a fight," I say sharply.
He stops.
Breathing hard.
Angry.
"Every second we wait," he says, "someone else—"
"I know."
I don't raise my voice.
I don't argue.
I just say it.
"I know."
That's what stops him.
Not logic.
Not strategy.
Just the fact that I'm not ignoring it.
I'm choosing it.
He exhales slowly.
"…you're changing," he says again.
I look away.
Because I don't want to see what he sees.
We move along the edge of the zone.
Careful.
Blending.
Watching.
Listening.
Conversations overlap.
Fragments.
"Safe passage."
"Skill exchange."
"Temporary alliance."
"Debt binding."
Every word feels wrong.
Every deal worse than the last.
Then I see it.
A mark.
Same as before.
Scratched into the wall.
The broken wing.
Null Wing.
They're here.
Of course they are.
I scan the area again.
More carefully now.
Looking for them.
For any sign.
And then—
I find it.
A single figure.
Standing apart from the others.
Not trading.
Not interacting.
Just watching.
Still.
Calm.
Different.
"See him?" I whisper.
Karan nods.
"…yeah."
"He's not here to trade."
"No," Karan agrees. "He's here to watch."
"A scout," I say.
Karan's jaw tightens.
"Null Wing?"
"Most likely."
We both slow.
Careful not to draw attention.
But it's already too late.
The scout turns.
Not fast.
Not reactive.
Deliberate.
Like he already knew we were there.
My chest tightens.
He looks straight at me.
Not past me.
Not around me.
At me.
His eyes don't show surprise.
Or curiosity.
Just recognition.
And something worse.
Expectation.
He takes a step forward.
Through the crowd.
People move around him without noticing.
Like he's part of the flow.
Like he belongs.
He stops a few feet away.
Close enough to talk.
Far enough to react.
Karan shifts slightly beside me.
Ready.
Tense.
The scout tilts his head.
Studies me.
Then speaks.
"We were waiting for you."