The sky deepened into shades of violet as evening crept over Tungsten Pack. Lanterns flickered to life one by one, their flames dancing like tiny guardians against the dark.

Valia leaned against the courtyard gate, her arms folded, eyes fixed on the path that led to the market. The last of the warriors had returned, their laughter echoing through the walls, but Mio’s voice was nowhere among them.

“She’s probably still haggling,” murmured one of the cleaners she sought to ask. “You ...