Somewhere deep within the heart of Sector 100 in the Middle Ring—
Step... step...
Each footfall echoed like a ghost's whisper, very chosen few can ever hear it.
In a voice barely louder than silence, Theo finally spoke:
"Did you get what I asked for, Mister Buldag?"
"You know damn well your request is nearly impossible," came the response from a short, wide-bellied man walking swiftly ahead of him. His cheeks sagged heavily, his nose was crimson from too many drinks, and his glassy eyes looked like he drank liquor the way others drank water. And yet, his voice was clear, precise, and disturbingly lucid.
"A few more years, maybe or a few decades more. Honestly, I might never be able to get what you're asking for."
"That's not what I've heard about you," Theo stopped in his tracks, his tone flat, cold as iron.
"And it's not the kind of service I've come to expect from our previous dealings."
