Cain turned to the shadowed corridor leading to the stairs. "Let's hear what he has to say. Quietly, carefully. No one else needs to know… not yet."
Susan and Roselle followed him as he moved down the balcony steps, silent, their footsteps muffled by the stone. Cain's mind worked over the possibilities, turning each whisper, each shadow into information. Every encounter, every secret word could matter. The air was thick, heavy with potential, with plans unspoken.
When they reached the bottom, Hunter was already waiting, leaning casually against the wall. His expression was calm, too calm. Cain's instincts, honed over years of survival and battle, flared. Calmness like that never lasted long.
"Cain," Hunter greeted, his voice low. "We have a problem. Not immediate, not catastrophic—but we need to discuss strategy."
Cain nodded, reading the tension in Hunter's posture, the subtle way his fingers drummed against the wall. "Then we discuss. Slowly. Carefully. No one else hears."
