After a long, heated shower and an even longer round of wild bedroom chaos, the morning finally settled.
Shiro leaned against the doorway, watching Lena and Grakka get dressed.
Lena—5'9", high dark elf, Obsidian-Blooded—wore a sleek business suit. Her platinum hair cascaded over mulatto-toned skin like liquid silk. Glowing white eyes, subtle enchantments at her fingertips, and curves that made even shadows stare.
Grakka, towering at 6'4", wore a sleek urban fit. Deep green orc skin, battle-hardened muscle, tribal tattoos, and fierce purple eyes. Her long black hair was tied in a thick tribal ponytail with shaved sides. No armor today—just a Warfang knife resting on her hip.
Lena caught Shiro staring in the mirror.
"You keep lookin' at me like that, I might start charging."
Shiro smirked. "Who y'all tryna impress dressed like that anyway?"
Lena rolled her eyes. "Work, darling. Gotta slay when I step out."
Grakka scoffed. "Don't worry about us. We're gettin' paid. What about you?"
Shiro shrugged. "Hunting. Other stuff."
Lena raised a brow. "Illegal stuff."
Grakka added, "Probably a male prostitute."
Shiro chuckled. "Y'all couldn't afford me."
Lena leaned in close, eyes teasing. "Oh really? I got plenty. How much?"
Shiro grinned. "So you tryna have rich sex?"
Lena giggled, kissed him soft, and waved. "C'mon, Grak."
Grakka smirked, kissed Shiro deeper, and followed her out.
The door clicked shut.
Shiro sighed and dialed Dez from the dark elf chick's phone.
Dez answered groggy. "Yawn… Hello?"
"Wake the fuck up," Shiro snapped. "We got business."
"I was gonna lay low—"
"They probably know I'm involved now. I don't run."
"Alright, alright."
"Tell me about the guys who chased you. Spots. Info. Anything."
"Well… there's a place where they gave me that relic I embedded in your gauntlets. Looks like a storage site. Illegal exports. Probably slaves."
Shiro growled. "And you thought they were good business?"
"I didn't know! I just love dangerous artifacts. That's my thing."
Shiro rolled his eyes. "Send me the location. We're scouting."
Dez groaned. "Figures you'd say that."
"And get dressed. You're coming too."
Shiro hung up, sighed, then noticed a few curvy maids watching him. He smirked, grabbed his gauntlets, and headed out.
Meanwhile…
Lena and Grakka cruised down the road in her sleek obsidian luxury car—tinted windows, rune-silenced engine, plush seats.
Grakka looked over. "Why not just fly?"
Lena yawned. "That'd burn my power. And I'm lazy."
"You are."
"You're the one tryna fly. Relax."
"Where we goin', anyway?"
"Contract job. They want enchantments. Sent an offer."
Grakka side-eyed her. "Legal?"
Lena smiled under her shades. "Not my business. Long as the money's right."
The car came to a slow stop.
"We've arrived, ma'am," said Alfe, the driver.
Lena checked her watch. "11:00 PM. Ember 18, 2999. Saturday. Punctual as always."
She stepped out. "Grak, sweep the area."
Grakka drew her Warfang knife and scouted the zone. Minutes later, she nodded. "Clear."
Lena set up enchantment glyphs around the area. "Now we wait."
Grakka leaned back, pulled out her new phone, and started doing word puzzles.
Thirty minutes passed.
Then—
A jet-black Nocturne Wraith LX pulled up. Matte finish. Predator stance. Violet-white headlights sliced through the dark. It purred to a stop like a stalking beast.
Four men in black suits stepped out.
Each wore a silver-clawed spiral sigil pinned to their lapels.
The leader? A massive brute—orc-ogre mix—looked like someone who thought intimidation was a personality.
Lena slid off her shades. "Hello, dear customer."
"Miss Lena. You reviewed the contract?"
"I'm here to enchant what you brought. That's it. I don't do long-term."
The brute looked disappointed but snapped his fingers. A box truck pulled up behind him.
Lena sighed and sat to work, enchanting weapon after weapon.
Grakka watched. Bored. Flipping her knife.
The brute stared at her like a dog at a steak.
Finally, he walked up. "Hey there, little orc."
Grakka raised an eyebrow. "Boy, get the fuck out my face."
"I'm just sayin', I can show you what a real man—"
"I already got one. And he puts me through the mattress. You? You'd barely make a dent."
Lena laughed. His crew did too—until he glared at them.
He tried to grab her arm.
Grakka gripped her knife.
Lena stood, aura flaring. "Touch her again, and this deal ends bloody."
The brute scowled. "You didn't finish the whole truck."
"I did half. That's all you get. Contract's broken. We're leaving."
He flinched as Lena's white eyes locked on him.
His men reached for weapons—he raised a hand. "Let them go."
"They'll be pissed," one muttered.
"We got enough enchanted. It'll pass."
They left.
In the car, Grakka looked at Lena.
"Thanks for that. I was about to take his head."
"I know," Lena said. "But his breath was killin' me. Let's get our nails done."
Grakka glanced at her own. "Yeah, they need it."
Laughter filled the car.
Elsewhere…
Shiro sat in a diner near the suspected facility. Dim lights. Cracked booths. Flickering glyph menu.
He checked his watch, irritated.
"Where the fuck is this clown…"
Then—movement.
A dude in a crooked wig and trench coat stumbled in like a bad spy movie.
Shiro blinked. "Ain't no way…"
Dez sat across from him and whispered, "Have you been followed?"
Shiro gave him the dumbest look possible. "Bruh. Stop."
Dez coughed. "That's the place. Few blocks west."
"I thought we were layin' low?"
"I was tryin' to."
Shiro cracked his knuckles. "Nah. We scout. Quiet. No dumb shit. I need to know if they know me, if there's a bounty, and what they're hidin'."
Dez gulped. "…You sure about this?"
Shiro stood, teeth flashing. "Let's hunt."