Answer the call

Alice hesitated, then tapped to accept. Quin resolved in firelit clarity suit immaculate, cigarette already lit.

“Darling,” he said, velvet-smooth, “twice in one day. You do spoil me.”

Alice tugged her ribboned cloak closer. “Hey, Daddy.”

He studied her, the faintest crease at his brow. “You fled before I could ask how you were. I’m…glad you answered.”

“I needed air,” she said. “And distance.”

Quin nodded once, smoke curling. “You’ve always needed that. I don’t begrudge it.” A ghost of a smile. “Though I admit, the timing stung.”

Her jaw tightened. “I’m not good at… the whole flying cathedral thing.”

“Mm.” He tipped ash into a tray off-screen. “Your mother never minded the cathedral only the wife in it.” His gaze softened a fraction. “Maria sent a message. She’s thrilled. She says and I quote-‘Tell my baby I can't wait to see the new wings.’”

Alice huffed a **** laugh. “That sounds like her.”

Quin’s tone warmed. “She also informed me she’s buying a chandelier with the stipend I sent this month.”

“Of course she is.” A tiny smile. “She’ll hang it next to the jukebox.”

“And doubtless call it ‘chic.’” His eyes returned to Alice. “You know I covered the tuition because I could, yes but also because I should. That was never a leash.”

“I know.” Alice looked down. “You paid the bills. I paid… other things.”

“Like rent you never told me was late. Like nights you carried Maria upstairs when she fell asleep at the bar.” His voice gentled, the manipulator set aside for a heartbeat. “You raised her as much as she raised you.”

Alice swallowed. “Someone had to.”

Silence pulsed with the soft drift of golden sand overhead.

Quin cleared his throat, composure settling back into place. “All the same: my offer stands. A-rank party slots. A proper weapon. Armor that isn’t ” his eyes flicked, just once, to the bikini.

“I’m not a billboard,” she said quietly. “And I’m not skipping the grind. I want to earn it. All of it.”

He breathed out smoke, amused and pained. “You mistake scaffolding for shortcuts. But very well no S-rank hand-me-downs.” A beat. “What about neutral support? Maps. Intel. Quiet healers on retainer who ‘happen to be nearby.’ Information isn’t a handout it’s oxygen.”

Her wings twitched. “Information I can live with. Sometimes.”

“Compromise,” he said, pleased. “How adult of us.”

Her mouth quirked. “Don’t get used to it.”

He leaned closer, ember lighting the hard line of his cheek. “One more thing. You are not an accident I bankroll. I helped with school because you deserved it, not because I felt guilty.” A small, honest crack showed. “I do feel guilty. But I would have paid twice as much if it meant you didn’t have to play parent at fifteen.”

Alice blinked, heat stinging the back of her eyes. “You could’ve… been there more.”

“Yes.” No defense, no detour. Just the word. Then, softly, “You’ve every right to refuse my banner. But you will never need to refuse my help. They are not the same thing.”

She let out a long breath. “Okay. Intel, not strings. And… thanks. For the school. For Maria. I know she ”

“ is a sparkling disaster with a good heart,” he finished, almost fond. “She adores you. I do, too, though I’m rather worse at saying it.”

Alice looked up, surprised into a smile. “You just did.”

“Consider it a rare artifact. Don’t trade it.” His poise returned, light and dry. “Send me a ping before you take another flying leap off my home..”

She nodded. “Deal.”

He glanced aside someone else speaking just out of frame then back to her. “Stay sharp, Alice Inspira. Whether you wear it or not that name will always be yours.”

The panel dimmed. Embers folded to gold, then faded.

The café’s hush flowed back in: the sigh of slowed sand, the cinnamon warmth, the quiet clink of porcelain. Jett slouched deeper in the booth, giving a low whistle.

“Dad talks like a contract and a lullaby at the same time,” she muttered. “Creepy. Kinda sweet. Mostly creepy.”

Ignition watched Alice, steady as bedrock. “You good?”

She exhaled, some knot inside loosening. “Yeah. I’m…okay.” The room’s dreamlike calm seeped into her bones. “I’ll take the maps. I won’t take the leash.”

Ignition’s mouth twitched. “There she is.”

Jett thumped the table. “Alright! Caffeine, then chaos. And if your old man tries to courier you a sword, you ‘accidentally’ sell it for snack money.”

Alice laughed,

Jett stretched. “Alright, lovebirds.” she said, pushing up from the booth, “I’m gonna go grab that iced coffee before I start crying out of second-hand emotion.”

Alice snorted, rubbing her eyes. “You’re impossible.”

“Wrong! I’m unstoppable.” Jett slung her guitar across her back, the instrument buzzing faintly with electric hum. “This place has the best caffeine in the lower terraces, and if I don’t get my fix soon, I’ll start blowing things up.”

Ignition arched an eyebrow. “That a promise or a threat?”

“Both,” Jett shot back, grinning. She tipped an imaginary hat to them. “Anyway, I’ll probably hit the dungeon after this. Can’t let all the good loot go to the guild babies. Gotta keep the Metalstorm brand alive.”

Alice tilted her head. “Metalstorm Bard, huh? You actually named yourself after your class?”

“Damn right I did,” Jett said, mock-offended. “Marketing, baby. You’d be shocked how far a good name and a loud entrance get you.” She winked, then softened just a fraction. “Seriously though good luck out there, both of you. The Oasis eats the unprepared, but… I think you two might actually bite back.”

Alice smiled faintly. “Thanks, Jett. For… the chaos, I guess.”

“The pleasure was all mine, angel-wings.”

With a final salute, Jett sauntered toward the counter, boots clinking against the floor. The gold light from the drifting hourglass above painted her in shifting halos as she went

leaving Alice and Ignition alone beneath the falling grains of enchanted time.

The door closed behind Jett with a soft chime, and the quiet of the Hourglass Café settled back in sand drifting lazily above, cups steaming gently in their booth.

Ignition leaned back with a sigh. “That one’s caffeine wrapped in a storm.”

Alice smirked faintly. “Yeah. Shame we couldn’t keep her around. She’d be the kind of chaos that keeps things interesting.”

“She’s also the kind of chaos that levels buildings,” Ignition countered dryly. “She’s what, level 37? Maybe higher? She doesn’t need a party, she is a party.”

Alice chuckled, then let the sound fade as she folded her hands. “Still. We’re gonna need more than two of us if we’re staying down here. I’m not even high enough level to survive yet, and…” she glanced at her wings, the torn edges and half-grown feathers, “…I’m not exactly combat-ready until these come back.”

Ignition’s molten eyes flicked toward them. “Yeah. That’s gonna take a bit. You sure you don’t wanna take a few days off topside?”

“I’ve had enough topside for one lifetime.” Her tone softened. “Besides, we can use the time to plan. Recruit. Most proper delving teams run with at least three. Four or five’s the standard.”

Ignition hummed, rubbing his jaw. “Three’s fine. Any more and it gets noisy. More mouths, more egos, more problems.”

“Not wrong,” Alice said, smiling faintly. “But it also means fewer bodies between us and dying.”

He gave a short, low laugh. “You’ve got a point.”

They both sat in companionable silence for a few seconds, the only sound the faint hiss of sand falling through the enchanted hourglass above.

Alice tapped her nails on the table. “You know… if Jett hadn’t run off, she’d have been perfect.”

Ignition arched a brow. “Perfect? You mean loud, reckless, and way too high level?”

“She’s a Bard,” Alice said. “A Metalstorm Bard, at that. Buffs, lightning, explosions she’s basically a one-woman support engine. And if she’s really soloing at that level, she’s more experienced than half the registered parties down here.”

Ignition’s expression hardened just slightly. “Exactly. She’s stronger than me. stronger than both of us put together. You really think she’d join a party she probably runs solo for a reason.”

Alice shrugged, trying to sound casual. “You never know. Some people like teaching rookies.”

“Yeah, and some like watching them burn for fun.” He exhaled, leaning his elbows on the table. “We’ll find someone else. Someone at our pace.”

The booth had gone quiet again, the faint shimmer of gold sand painting slow halos across the table. Ignition drained the last of his drink and set the glass down with a soft clink.

“So,” he said, leaning back, “if we’re actually going to make this work, we need more people.”

“Agreed,” Alice said, pulling her hair back with a sigh. “You take the east quarter, I’ll take the bazaar. See who’s recruiting or looking for a group.”

Ignition nodded, pushing himself up. “If anyone tries to grope you, punch them in the throat.”

Alice smirked. “No promises.”

They stepped out into the plaza, the Oasis’s strange twilight glittering across the sandstone. Steam vents hissed somewhere nearby, the smell of spice and mana-rich oil thick in the air.

“I’ll meet you back here at sunset,” Ignition said. “Don’t get into trouble.”

Alice gave a mock salute. “Me? Never.”

They split at the corner, Ignition melting into the crowd, his heat haze blending with the glow of market torches. Alice lingered for a moment,

The city outside the Hourglass Café was alive with motion The upper promenade curved like a golden artery through the Oasis, carrying adventurers, merchants, and mercenaries in both directions.

Alice walked along the sandstone causeway, The faint wind from the cavern vents tugged at her half-regrown wings, her feathers still ached, phantom pain flickering in time with each step.

Lanterns floated lazily over the stalls, Stitched argued with Kheprathi over the price of gear. A pair of drunk mages trade a spell for a kiss under an archway while a troupe of street performers made glowing sand dance like fireflies.

Alice kept her eyes on the crowds, scanning faces. (If we’re gonna put a team together, I should start somewhere. Someone grounded. Or a healer gods know we’ll need one with Ignition.)

Her gaze landed on a small group resting near a fountain. Bandaged, bruised, their gear cracked and scorched. For a moment, she felt a twinge of sympathy they looked exhausted, like they’d barely made it back alive. She was halfway toward them before recognition hit like a blade to the gut.

The archer’s burned leathers. The swordsman’s torn greaves. The healer’s half-melted staff.

Ignition’s handiwork.

Alice froze mid-step. (Oh. Yeah. That’s them.)

The wounded adventurers were whispering to one another, their eyes haunted. She saw one of them tracing claw marks across his armor with trembling fingers. The moment her shadow crossed theirs, the fox eared healer looked up and Aliced flinched.

Alice swallowed, wings folding tight. “Right. Maybe… not them.”

She turned sharply, slipping back into the crowd before anyone could speak.

It took her a few blocks before she could breathe again. (Okay, no ex-party recruits. Got it. Maybe the guild square later, somewhere with fewer maul victims.)

Her father’s voice lingered in her mind smooth, composed, impossible to ignore.

She frowned down at her empty hands. “Guess a proper weapon wouldn’t hurt.”

Alice followed the winding street deeper into the bazaar, the light dimming as brass lamps gave way to flickering forges. The air grew hotter, heavier, filled with the smell of oil and ozone. Every clang of hammer on metal echoed off the sandstone walls like thunder in a canyon.

She turned a corner and stopped.

A massive iron sign jutted from the building ahead, its letters hammered from mismatched scrap:

SECOND CHANCE STEEL

The place looked half workshop, half shrine. Chains hung from the ceiling, each holding a piece of shattered armor or a broken blade, relics of adventurers who’d nearly died and come back sharper. Blue flame flickered from rune-etched crucibles, and glowing sand trickled through pipes overhead like veins of molten glass.

Alice grinned faintly. “Yeah. This feels right.”

She stepped through the archway, the heat licking her skin as the hammer’s rhythm swallowed her.

The forge’s heat wrapped around Alice like a living thing, thick and humming with energy. But it wasn’t the usual orange glow of coal - the fire burned blue, pure and strange, its light flickering over the soot-stained stone walls. Chains dangled from the ceiling, each one cradling an unfinished weapon. The rhythmic clang of hammer on steel rolled through the space like a heartbeat.

Behind the counter stood a mountain of a man or rather, an orc built like one. His long brown hair was a wild, tangled mess, his beard thick enough to hide small animals in. His apron was more patch than leather, and his enormous hands were dusted in glittering metal flakes. Despite his size, his deep brown eyes carried an unmistakable kindness the same sort that made you feel instantly safe, like a campfire in a storm.

“By the gods,” he rumbled, voice deep and friendly. “Thought the forge spirits were playin’ tricks on me. Didn’t expect a customer dressed for a beach, not a battlefield.”

Alice flushed bright red, clutching at the edge of her enchanted bikini armor. “It’s magical armor, actually.”

“Is it now?” The orc tilted his head, studying her with good-natured curiosity. “Protects you from embarrassment, maybe. Not sure it’ll do much for stab wounds.”

Alice groaned softly. “It’s a long story.”

He chuckled, the sound filling the whole forge. “Ain’t it always? Don’t mind me, lass, just teasin’. I’m Brumgar. Welcome to Second Chance Steel. You break it, I fix it you lose it, I’ll pretend it never existed.”

His grin softened into something genuine as he gestured around. “Go on, have a look. You look like you could use a good weapon and maybe a good meal. You’re all bones and bruises.”

Alice stepped farther in, the forge’s hum making her skin prickle. Her bare shoulders still ached faintly even the warm air seemed to sting against the scarred stubs of her wings.

She moved between the displays, each weapon accompanied by a faint shimmer of System text.

[Item: Skybreaker Glaive (C Rank)]

Weight: Light / Material: Folded Mithril Alloy

Effect: Reduces air resistance during flight by 20%. Generates minor wind pressure when swung.

[Bonus Trait: “Wings of the Storm” – Enhanced maneuverability midair.]

[Item: Dawnbinder Saber (C Rank)]

Effect: Channels light mana into each strike. Glows brighter the longer it’s drawn.

[Bonus Trait: “Radiant Mark” – First hit blinds nearby enemies briefly.]

[Item: Galecaller Pike (C Rank)]

Effect: Each thrust releases a compressed air burst. Range increases by 15% while airborne.

[Bonus Trait: “Echo Lunge” – Slight auto-correct toward targets in motion.]

Brumgar leaned on his hammer, watching her browse. “That glaive’s a fine choice for someone who fights above the ground. The saber’s flashy, but she’ll drain your mana if you ain’t careful. The pike’s got bite, though likes a bit of altitude, that one.”

Alice trailed a hand along the smooth haft of the glaive, her reflection bending across the blade’s faint curve. “They’re all beautiful,” she murmured.

Brumgar smiled under the tangle of his beard. “Aye. Weapons remember their wielders, lass. They sing louder for the ones who’ve still got somethin’ to prove.”

Alice gave him a sidelong look. “You saying I look inexperienced?”

“I’m sayin’ you look like you’ve been through a storm and came out with nothin’ but grit and bad luck. That usually means there’s somethin’ worth reforgin’.”

Alice glanced back toward the glowing racks, her eyes reflecting the blue fire. “Maybe,” she said softly. “Still figuring out what I’m meant to be reforged into.”

Brumgar grinned. “That’s the spirit. Take your time, lass. The right weapon’ll call to ya. Just make sure it’s before closin’ I’ve got stew waitin’ at home.”

Alice lingered by the racks, eyes tracing the faint blue runes etched into each weapon’s blade. Her fingers brushed the smooth haft of the glaive again, but the numbers floating beside it made her stomach twist.

(C-Rank. It’s fine. It’s enough for me. I don’t need…)

Her father’s voice echoed uninvited in her head:

“You don’t have to struggle for every scrap, darling. Let me give you what you’re owed.”

She clenched her jaw. Quin’s words always came back when she least wanted them to. And yet… after that call earlier after seeing the look in his eyes when she’d flown off without saying goodbye guilt pressed like a stone against her ribs.

Maybe, just this once, she could throw him a bone.

He’d want her to use his name. It’d make him happy.

Alice sighed, dragging a hand down her face. “Ugh. He’d be insufferable about it.”

Brumgar, who had been quietly rearranging a few sword racks nearby, turned his head. “What’s that, lass?”

She hesitated, then swallowed her pride. “I was wondering if you… have anything stronger. A-rank or higher.”

The forge went quiet for a moment. Even the blue flames seemed to dim.

Brumgar raised a heavy brow. “A-rank, eh? You sure about that?” He leaned against the counter, arms crossing over his chest. “Not to doubt you, miss, but those don’t go for pocket change. I’d be shocked if you could afford one.”

Alice’s cheeks flushed with heat. She hated the way her tongue hesitated on the words like she was betraying herself by saying them aloud.

“…My father will pay for it.”

Brumgar blinked. “A generous sort, is he?”

Alice hesitated again, then **** the name out. “Quin. Quin Inspira.”

It landed like a hammer strike. The orc’s eyes widened, and his posture shifted subtly from teasing to cautious respect. “Ah. That explains the hair.”

Alice rubbed her neck awkwardly. “Yeah. The attitude too, probably.”

Brumgar chuckled under his beard. “Didn’t think a Guildmaster’s girl would be wanderin’ into my forge wearin’… uh, that.” His eyes flicked over her bikini armor before quickly averting, still grinning. “No offense, lass.”

The orc leaned in, his tone gentler now. “You sure you want to play that card, lass? Once you drop a name like that, there’s no takin’ it back. Every smith, every merchant, every rat in the Oasis’ll start callin’ you Inspira’s girl.”

Alice’s fingers tightened at her side. “I know.” She swallowed hard. “But he’d be happy if I did. And I… owe him that much, I guess.”

Brumgar nodded slowly, eyes kind. “Alright then. Let’s see what ol’ Quin’s coin can buy.” He turned toward the back room, his heavy steps echoing through the forge. “Got a few pieces tucked away proper artifacts, not your standard scrap. Give me a moment to fetch ’em.”

As he disappeared behind a curtain of smoke and heat, Alice exhaled shakily. The sound of the hammering ceased for the first time since she’d entered.

And that’s when she felt it.

Someone else was in the room.

Not movement just presence. A weight in the air.

Alice turned.

She hadn’t noticed her before, standing in the far corner where the light barely reached. A tall, slim figure draped in black the kind of outfit that seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it.

Her short, asymmetrical hair framed a pale ceramic face, smooth and almost too perfect, broken only by faint seams along her jaw. The tips of her hair glowed faintly cyan, a soft contrast to the shadow she stood in.

She was staring at the daggers displayed along the wall, fingers tracing the air above their hilts as if reading something unseen. The glowing nodes along her synthetic arms pulsed faintly in time with her heartbeat if she even had one.

Alice swallowed, unsure whether to speak.

The Døll assassin looked up first. Her eyes were dark, red tinged, half dead yet frighteningly sharp. “...You’re loud,” she said quietly, voice flat but not cruel.

Alice blinked. “I sorry?”

“You breathe like someone who still expects help to come,” the assassin murmured, turning her gaze back to the blades. “You’ll grow out of it.”

The words weren’t said with malice. If anything, they sounded like advice. Or a warning.

Alice didn’t answer. The silence between them stretched thin, filled only by the whisper of blue flame.

Then Brumgar’s heavy footsteps returned, carrying with them the scent of hot metal and mana oil. “Found a few beauties!” he called. “One’ll make you feel like a goddess, the other’ll make the goddess jealous!”

The orc returned from the back carrying two weapons both shimmered under the blue flame’s glow one bright like dawn, the other dark as night.

He laid them carefully on the scorched table between them. “There we are, lass. Two beauties straight from the Oasis depths. Don’t come any finer here.”

The first was a spear, long and regal. Its shaft was forged from pale desert wood wrapped in white silk, the blade a curved crescent of burnished gold that pulsed faintly with inner fire. Heat rolled from it in soft waves, like standing too close to sunrise.

[Item: sun’s fury (A Rank)]

Effect: Converts ambient heat into radiant bursts.

Trait – Solar Pulse: Consecutive strikes charge the tip with stored sunlight. Release to blind enemies and sear mana barriers.

Bonus: Brief heat resistance.

Warning: Extended use may cause dehydration in arid zones.

The second weapon was its opposite a khopesh, black as volcanic glass, its edge carved in a sweeping curve. Runes crawled lazily along the obsidian surface in pale cyan, like veins of ghostlight trapped beneath its skin. The air around it seemed to hum with restrained hunger.

[Item: jackal’s grin (A Rank)]

Effect: Absorbs residual soul energy from defeated foes.

Trait – Gravecurrent: Converts absorbed essence into cutting power. Each kill strengthens the blade briefly.

Bonus: Gains a spectral afterimage that mirrors the wielder’s swings.

Warning: Must be cleansed or the echoes grow… restless.

Brumgar crossed his massive arms, beard bristling with pride. “Now there’s a choice for ya. Spear for grace and fire, blade for guts and ghosts. Either one’ll carve your way through trouble.”

Alice’s eyes sparkled in the forge light. “They’re incredible.”

A dry monotone drifted from the corner. “Mm. Yeah. They’re good.”

Alice startled she hadn’t even noticed the Døll in the shadows until now.

Veyra leaned against a rack of unfinished weapons, porcelain plating gleaming faintly under the blue fire. Her asymmetrical black hair hung into her face, cyan tips glowing like a dying ember. She hadn’t looked up once, her voice slow, detached, and utterly unimpressed.

“Good balance,” she continued. “Solid power. Reliable. The khopesh might whisper a bit, but they all do if you swing long enough.” She blinked once, the faint red glow of her eyes sharpening. “They’re good weapons. Just not good company.”

Alice blinked, unsure how to respond. “Uh… thanks?”

Veyra shrugged. “You asked. Or maybe you didn’t. I forget.”

Brumgar chuckled so hard his beard shook. “Don’t mind her, lass. That’s Veyra. Talks like a tomb, fights like a storm. She’s been starin’ at me daggers all day, hasn’t said more than five words till now.”

“I said six,” Veyra murmured.

Alice tilted her head. “Are… you okay?”

Veyra’s expression didn’t change. “Define okay.”

Brumgar slapped his knee, roaring with laughter. “See? Sharp as obsidian, that one!”

Veyra looked back to the table, eyes fixed on the jackal’s grin. “If you’re set on dying pretty, take the spear. If you want to win before you burn out, take the blade. They’ll both love you. They just love differently.”

Alice sighed softly, rubbing her temple. “You’re… surprisingly poetic.”

“Comes with the firmware,” Veyra replied.

Alice stared at the two weapons gleaming under the blue forge light, her reflection flickering across their deadly surfaces. Both pulsed faintly.

Her stomach tightened. She already knew what she was about to say, and she hated herself for it.

Brumgar was watching her expectantly, arms crossed, beard catching the faint sparks in the air. “So, lass? Which one’s callin’ your name?”

Alice hesitated, fingers brushing the hilts. He’ll be thrilled if I do this, she thought bitterly. Finally using the family name for something other than arguments.

“I’ll… take both,” she said at last.

The orc’s brows shot up like drawn bows. “Both? Lass, do you have any idea what that’ll cost? You could buy a bloody villa in upper Ikos with one of these!”

Alice exhaled through her nose, trying to sound calm. “My father will cover it.”

The forge went quiet except for the faint crackle of the blue fire. Brumgar blinked, then let out a low whistle. “Aye, I suppose Guildmaster Quin would.”

Alice **** a thin smile. “Yeah. It’s kind of his superpower.”

Brumgar laughed, the sound booming off the stone walls. “Fair enough! Can’t say I’ve ever sold two A-ranks in one breath. You’re either brave or mad, lass.”

“Probably both,” Alice muttered, retrieving two Core Capsules from her belt. The small, pearl-like orbs pulsed with soft light as she pressed them against the weapons in turn. Each relic shimmered first the sun’s fury, then the jackal’s grin before collapsing into streams of energy that vanished inside the capsules.

[Item Stored: sun’s fury (A Rank)]

[Item Stored: jackal’s grin (A Rank)]

She clipped both capsules back to her hip, feeling the faint weight settle there.

From the corner, Veyra’s voice drifted, dry and toneless as ever. “Two A-ranks at once. That’s either confidence… or untreated mania. Still good taste.”

Alice turned her head. “You think so?”

Veyra shrugged. “The spear’s temperamental, the sword’s cursed, and you’ll probably hurt yourself at least once. But they’re solid builds. Honest weapons. They’ll break you before they fail you. That’s… respectable.”

Alice blinked, half-smiling. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s said to me today.”

“Mm. I peaked early,” Veyra murmured.

Alice stepped out into the bazaar air, She exhaled slowly, adjusting the two Core Capsules at her belt each one faintly glowing with the weight of her very expensive decision.

Her father was going to be so smug about this.

Alice’s boots crunched over the grit as she started walking back toward the Hourglass Café. She wanted quiet. Maybe a drink. Definitely a chair.

“...You know,” came a familiar, flat voice from behind her, “it’s rude to leave the shop without saying goodbye.”

Alice turned.

Veyra stood in the doorway, half in shadow, half in blue light. Her black, buckled jacket caught the glow of passing lanterns, and the faint cyan circuits along her plating pulsed like a heartbeat. She didn’t look angry just there.

Alice raised a brow. “You following me?”

“Maybe.” Veyra’s voice was as neutral as ever. “Or maybe I was just heading the same way. Coincidences happen. Probably.”

Alice blinked. “Right. Totally normal coincidence. You just happen to be going to the same café I’m headed to.”

Veyra shrugged one shoulder. “You looked lonely. I’m bad with silence. It gets loud.”

That earned a small laugh from Alice despite herself. “That might be the most depressing way I’ve ever heard someone describe small talk.”

“Thanks,” Veyra said simply. “I try.”

They fell into step together, the crowd parting slightly around the almost nude, winged adventurer and the emotionless Døll at her side. The glow from the underground city shimmered off the steel plates across Veyra’s arms, giving her an almost ethereal silhouette.

Alice tried not to stare, but curiosity won out. “You don’t really… seem like the ‘join a party’ type.”

“I’m not,” Veyra replied, staring straight ahead. “Parties die. Or they leave. Or both.”

“That’s… comforting.”

“It’s realistic.”

They walked in silence for a few moments,

Eventually, Alice said softly, “I could use someone like you, though. Someone quiet. Someone fast. Ignition’s… a lot. I’m still figuring out what I am.”

Veyra tilted her head slightly. “You’re recruiting me?”

“Not officially. Yet.”

The Døll’s faint red eyes blinked once. “Good. I’m terrible with paperwork.”

Alice smiled, wings twitching instinctively at her back, still aching where her feathers hadn’t grown back. “You’re a strange one, you know that?”

Veyra gave a faint hum. “Takes one to know one.”

The bazaar’s hum faded as Alice and Veyra crossed the plaza. Lanterns shimmered overhead, scattering flecks of light across the sandstone, and the same troupe of entertainers from earlier spun in a whirl of color and sound.

One dancer broke away from the crowd a Chimerin whose presence seemed to ripple through the air like warm tidewater.

His hair was a living flame of color bright orange streaked with soft coral pink and brushed with iridescent white at the tips, like sunlight breaking over a reef. The fine strands fanned around his face in playful, fin-shaped tufts that caught every glint of light. His skin shimmered faintly with blue scales.

Nemi smiled as he approached, sea-blue eyes glinting with the same teasing sparkle as the lanterns above. “Now that,” he said, voice musical and confident, “is an entrance. You’re new here, aren’t you? Nobody forgets wings like those.”

Alice instinctively folded what was left of her feathers closer, embarrassed. “They’re still growing back.”

“Even better,” Nemi said, circling lightly, his tail flicking behind him in a rhythm that matched the music still echoing from the troupe. “Gives you an edge a little danger, a little mystery.”

Nemi's eyes trailed down Alice's body, lingering on the noticeable bulge in her bikini. "You're beautiful, you know that?" his blue tongue licking his lips, "All of you."

Alice felt a flush rise to her cheeks, but she held his gaze steadily. "I'm not ashamed of who I am. Of what I am."

"As well you shouldn't be," Nemi replied, his tone sincere. "You embody the beauty of duality, of being unapologetically yourself. It's incredibly alluring."

He reached out, softly brushing his hand against the curve of her hip, just above where her bikini briefs hugged her skin. Alice shivered at the touch, feeling a jolt of electricity shoot through her veins.

Nemi's sea-blue eyes darkened with desire, his hair catching the lantern light as he leaned in closer. "I want you, Alice," he breathed against her ear. "Every inch of you."

Alice's breath hitched, her body trembling from his nearness. Nemi pulled back slightly, his gaze intense as he searched her face.

Slowly, giving her time to pull away, he closed the distance between them, capturing her lips in a kiss that seemed to ignite the very air around them.

For a brief moment, Alice's insecurities threatened to overwhelm her. But as Nemi deepened the kiss, his arms winding around her waist to crush her against him, she let herself get lost in the sensation. In the feeling of being wanted.

When they finally broke apart, they were both panting softly. Nemi rested his forehead against hers, his fingers drawing languid patterns on her lower back.

He tilted his head, his hair brushing his cheeks. “You don’t see many like you here,” he said softly, his tone suddenly gentler. “People spend their whole lives trying to fit into one shell or the other. You… don’t bother pretending.”

Alice blinked, startled. “I that’s… not exactly something I chose.”

“Maybe not,” Nemi said, smiling faintly, “but it’s something you own. That’s rare.”

Alice’s breath trembled against his skin, her hands hovering uncertainly between his chest and shoulders.

She could still feel the pulse of his heart where their bodies touched, fast and alive, matching her own. For a few suspended seconds, she didn’t move. Didn’t want to.

Then her brain finally caught up.

Her face flamed. “You you really just ”

“Kissed you?” Nemi finished, “Yeah. I did.”

He didn’t let go right away. His arms remained around her waist.

“I’m sorry if that was too much,” he murmured. “I gave you time to stop me, but… you didn’t.”

Alice opened her mouth, then shut it again. Her wings twitched awkwardly, still half plucked from her ordeal earlier. She could barely think straight.

“I well I didn’t expect it,” she managed finally.

“Is that bad?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted, cheeks still burning. “It’s just gods, you’re so ”

“Cute?” he offered, flashing a small grin.

Alice looked up at him and regretted it instantly. His face was unfairly beautiful his hair, the smooth sheen of his skin, the faint shimmer of his tail swaying lazily behind him. And those dancer’s silks didn’t help.

“Yeah,” she said quietly, before she could stop herself. “Cute.”

A slow smile spread across his face, equal parts relief and mischief. “Good. I was hoping you’d say that.”

Behind them, Veyra’s voice cut through the silence like a knife. “If you two start reproducing in public, I’m walking into traffic.”

Alice groaned, burying her face against Nemi’s shoulder out of sheer embarrassment. “Why are you like this?” she mumbled.

Veyra shrugged, completely unbothered. “Existential design flaw.”

Nemi chuckled softly, his tail curling around his ankle like a cat. “She’s charming, in a nihilistic sort of way.”

Alice finally stepped back, brushing her hair out of her face and trying to steady her breathing. “You really don’t waste time, do you?”

“I’m a dancer,” Nemi said simply, hands sliding into the folds of his silks. “When the rhythm’s right, you move. You don’t think.”

She blinked, thrown off by how matter-of-fact that sounded. “That’s… kind of poetic.”

“I’m kind of poetic,” he said with a wink.

Veyra muttered, “And doomed.”

Alice sighed but couldn’t stop smiling now. “Well, doomed or not, I could use someone with your confidence. We’re putting together a team.”

Nemi’s eyes brightened, “You’re serious? You want me?”

“Don’t make it weird,” she said quickly, though her cheeks betrayed her again.

“Too late,” Veyra said flatly.

Alice ignored her. “If you can fight half as well as you flirt, you’re in.”

Nemi laughed, the sound bubbling and musical. “Oh, sweetheart, I can do both at once.”

Veyra groaned audibly. “Of course he can.”

As they began walking back toward the Hourglass Café, the crowd’s noise fading behind them, Alice risked a sidelong glance at him.

The Hourglass Café glowed golden as Alice stepped inside with Nemi and Veyra in tow. Sand fell in slow spirals through the air, scattering soft light.

Ignition was already seated in one of the deeper booths, heat haze rising faintly from his shoulders. Opposite him sat a young man with a solemn poise long black hair curtaining one violet eye.

Even sitting still, Gawain carried himself like someone perpetually on guard courteous, but edged. Three figures waited around him, each one striking in their own way.

Closest to him sat Bedivere, a massive direwolf with fur like storm clouds and eyes the color of moonlit steel. One of his legs was a beautifully crafted prosthetic of dark silver, each motion seamless, as if it were part of him. He moved with a knight’s grace, regal and measured.

Behind him lingered Blasine, the manticore her body that of a woman, her expression almost vacant and drooling. Her limbs however, were all beast leonine similar to the Goddess., a set of large bat like wings and a scorpion’s tail curled over her back, She didn’t speak couldn’t but her low growls and the flick of her tail carried volumes.

And furthest from the table, almost filling the entryway, was Porcus, the war boar twice the size of a hippopotamus. Armor plates were fused into his hide like scales of blackened iron, tusks as long as Alice’s arm curling from his snout. He breathed heavily, the sound wet and deep, and when he spoke, it was in single, rumbling words that vibrated the air.

“Talk. Done soon.”

Alice hesitated mid-step.

Gawain’s tone was calm but apologetic. “I appreciate the offer, Ignition, but I can’t accept.”

Ignition’s eyes narrowed. “Because I’m dangerous?”

“Because the dungeon is,” Gawain corrected, voice soft but steady. “And because your last party didn’t make it out. People remember.”

The air thickened. Even the golden sand seemed to slow.

Ignition’s heat shimmered more strongly for a heartbeat, then stilled. “I’m still standing.”

“Yes,” Gawain said quietly. “That’s what makes them afraid.”

Alice arrived just as the silence fell. “Afraid of what?” she asked, forcing brightness into her tone.

All four turned.

Gawain rose to his feet politely, coat whispering against the booth. “Miss Inspira. I was just explaining that my team isn’t available for new contracts.”

Bedivere dipped his massive head. “Our oath to remains. We do not split our loyalties.” His metal leg gleamed as he shifted.

Blasine watched Alice intently, her tail twitching, eyes narrowing not in threat but appraisal she gave a low, musical rumble, the kind a lion might make before deciding if a stranger was friend or prey.

Porcus snorted, fogging the glass beside him. “Too… risky.”

Alice frowned faintly, taking in the beasts’ synchronized discipline. Even the monstrous boar obeyed a kind of rhythm. “You’d all make amazing allies.”

Bedivere’s voice carried a trace of warmth. “You honor us. But alliances are not born of admiration. They are forged in fire, and tested in loss. Your fire burns early still.”

Blasine gave a single, approving chuff, like she agreed with the sentiment then nudged Porcus’s flank when he started snuffling too close to Nemi’s tail.

“Hey careful!” Nemi said, laughing nervously as he stepped aside. “He bites?”

“Grunts,” Veyra murmured, deadpan. “Maybe both.”

Ignition leaned back, unfazed. “So, that’s a no.”

“It’s a ‘not yet,’” Gawain said, bowing his head slightly. “You’re reckless. Brave, maybe, but reckless. And I can’t risk my companions on half-formed trust.” His violet eye lingered briefly on Alice.

Bedivere rose, prosthetic claw tapping softly against the marble. “Come,” he said simply.

Blasine padded beside him on silent paws, tail arched and elegant. Porcus turned last, snorting once, a deep rumble in his chest. “Good… luck.”

Then the trio followed Gawain toward the glowing door, leaving ripples of heat and silence behind them.

Alice exhaled slowly, staring after them. “Well. He’s polite about rejection.”

Ignition’s mouth twitched. “He’s smart about it.”

Veyra crossed her arms, watching the sand drift lazily above. “He’ll regret it.”

Nemi smiled, brushing some of the orange hair from his eyes. “Maybe. Or maybe he just doesn’t know what he’s missing.”

Ignition broke the silence first, tapping a knuckle against the table. “All right,” he said, tone calm but clipped. “Gawain’s out. That leaves your two new… recruits.” His Icey blue eyes flicked between Nemi and Veyra.

Alice frowned faintly. “They’re both good.”

Veyra didn’t react; she just stood there, hood half-shadowing her expression, her arms folded as if already expecting rejection. Nemi, meanwhile, shifted his weight with dancer’s grace, tail flicking lazily, his smile just a bit too confident.

Ignition’s gaze lingered on them both. “Two strangers in one day isn’t a team. It’s a liability. We pick one.”

Alice blinked. “Just one?”

“Until we know who we can trust.” His tone was firm, final. “You’re still weak. You can’t afford chaos right now.”

Nemi crossed his arms with mock offense, shimmering scales catching the light.

Veyra tilted her head. “Chaos gets people killed.”

“Fun at parties, though,” Nemi said, flashing a grin.

Alice pinched the bridge of her nose. “You two aren’t making this easier.”

She looked between them, feeling her chest tighten. On one side, Nemi vibrant, alive, confident in ways she wasn’t. He made her laugh, made her forget her insecurities for half a heartbeat. On the other, Veyra, quiet, steady, a blade in the dark. Someone who understood the weight of silence.

(They both fit, just in different ways.)

Ignition watched her, unreadable. “You’ve got ten seconds before I decide for you.”

Alice’s wings twitched still ragged from Bastka’s plucking. “That’s not fair.”

“Neither is this world,” he said. “So pick.”

For a moment, time stretched, the golden sand falling slower around them. Nemi leaned on one hip, his tail brushing the floor, Veyra waited, unblinking, her expression calm but distant, as if she’d already accepted whichever outcome fate chose.

Alice drew in a shaky breath. “Ignition, what if ”

He raised a brow. “Don’t say both.”