The smoke from the Krossel manor hadn’t quite settled into the gray morning sky. It hung low, a heavy shroud smelling of expensive cedar, charred upholstery, and the metallic tang of blood that no amount of fire could fully mask. Caevrik Dorneth sat on a blackened stone bench near the fountain, his hands trembling with a rhythmic precision that would have fooled any onlooker."Hey, buddy. You still with us?"Caevrik looked up, his eyes dull and watery. A junior officer stood over him, holding a paper cup that smelled of scorched beans and lukewarm water."I'm here," Caevrik said, his voice cracking just enough. "I think. It’s hard to tell where the nightmare ends and this begins."The officer sighed, handing him the cup. "Drink it. It’s terrible, but it’ll stop the shivering. Name’s Miller. I’m real sorry about the Krossels. They seemed like... well, they were the Krossels, weren't they?""They were my life for twenty years," Caevrik whispered, taking a sip. He winced. "You’re right.

The cool air hit Caevrik’s face as he turned the corner, the red glow of the digital news ticker fading behind him. He didn’t look back at the chaos he’d orchestrated; he was already thinking three moves ahead.He pulled a burner phone from his pocket and hit a speed-dial button."Hey, Vane. You still there?""Where else would I be? I'm watching the news, C. You really did a number on him. The guy looks like he’s about to have a heart attack on live TV.""It’s not enough. He’s still standing. He’s going to the Orchid Gala tonight at the Grand Meridian.""Are you serious? After getting his assets frozen? That’s ballsy.""It’s desperation, Vane. He needs to convince his remaining investors that he’s still the big shark in the pond. If he doesn't show up, he's admitting defeat. He’ll be there, and his wife Evelyn will be right next to him, playing the loyal spouse.""So, what's the plan? You gonna blow the place up?""Don't be dramatic. I need a uniform. Service staff. Catering. And I ne

Caevrik stepped into the dim hallway of the Lowside tenement, the scent of damp wood and boiled cabbage clinging to the peeling wallpaper. He reached the door to 2B, his fingers instinctively checking the thin, transparent hair he’d wedged into the frame earlier. It was gone.He didn't reach for a weapon. He didn't have one, and more importantly, he didn't need one. He simply adjusted his posture, letting his shoulders slump and his eyes lose their predatory sheen. He pushed the door open."You’re late for a man who’s supposed to be hiding from the world, Dorneth."Detective Othran Velk was sitting in the room’s only chair, his feet propped up on the edge of the sagging bed. He was flipping through a stack of grainy, black-and-white printouts.Caevrik leaned against the doorframe, letting out a long, weary sigh. "The bus system in the Lowside isn't exactly calibrated for convenience, Detective. What are you doing here? I thought I gave my statement.""You gave a statement, yeah. It wa