Gray hesitated
He knew the job was suspicious. Everything about the man screamed danger. But he had nothing to lose. If he took the offer, there was a chance he could escape this rotting city. A small chance, but better than starving to death or rotting in silence. Even if the risk was high, at least it would be different.
The rain had grown heavier. Each drop splattered against the concrete like a ticking clock. His soaked clothes clung to him. The cold was starting to settle deep into his bones. He rubbed his fingers together for warmth and let out a slow breath, watching the fog drift from his lips.
"You still have not given me an answer," the man said.
His voice cut through the rain, calm but slightly sharper than before. Gray looked up. The man was still watching him, though his eyes had grown colder.
Without another word, the stranger reached into his coat and pulled out a small object. It shimmered faintly, casting a ghostly blue glow against his pale fingers.
"It is not like you really have a choice anyway," the man muttered.
Gray frowned. He was not sure if that was meant to be a threat or a simple truth. Either way, it only made him more uneasy. But curiosity pushed him to lean closer.
The man held out a small card, no larger than a credit chip. It hovered slightly above his palm, glowing with strange light. Symbols moved across the surface in loops and spirals, forming runes Gray could not recognize. They looked ancient, alien. The light they emitted pulsed gently, as if the card was alive.
"Come to Gate Two before dusk," the man said. "If you are up for the job."
He turned and walked away without waiting for a response. Gray remained frozen on the bench, his eyes locked onto the glowing card now resting in his palm.
Too many questions filled his mind and he blurted out.
"And what if I do not come?"
His voice echoed along the narrow, empty street. The stranger kept walking at first. Then he stopped. Slowly, he turned to glance over his shoulder.
"Then forget about all of this," the man said. "And forget me."
His voice was sharper now, lacking all kindness. His face was empty, unreadable. Something in that moment made Gray's skin crawl. It was like staring into the eyes of someone who had seen far too much. The man turned back around and vanished into the curtain of rain, leaving nothing behind.
Gray let out a shaky breath. His hand closed tightly around the card.
'What a pain.Bastard would not even let me ask a question.'
The card in his hand was still glowing. It was just like the man's watch, only smaller. The symbols shifted slowly, never repeating themselves. He turned it over, but there was no back. Just more light and movement.
He slid the card into his pocket and stood up.
Curfew would begin soon. He had only a few minutes to decide. Gray began walking with no destination in mind. The streets were mostly empty now, the rain keeping even the most desperate indoors. Water pooled in the cracks, reflecting the faint lights above.
To his left, he saw a group of older kids surrounding a much smaller boy. Maybe eight or nine years old. The kid was holding a small croissant in his hands, probably stolen from one of the back-alley vendors. The older ones shoved him to the ground and snatched it away. No one stopped them. No one ever did.
To his right, an old man sat motionless on the stone steps of a building. His eyes were wide open, but he did not blink or move. For a moment, Gray thought he might be dead.
Gray's hand found the card in his pocket again. He clutched it tightly.
He had lived like this for years. In the shadows. In filth. In silence. He had waited for things to change, but nothing ever had. He was tired. Not just of the city. He was tired of the people. Tired of being forgotten. Tired of pretending tomorrow would be different.
Maybe this job would kill him. Maybe that was the point. The man offers jobs to weak poor people, if they die no one would know. And if they lived they would go on another mission, and continue untill they died.
But maybe, just maybe, it would mean something.
The streetlamps above flickered and dimmed. Then, one by one, they went out. The only light left was from the glowing signs in the distant market district. Everything else was swallowed by the dark.
The kids scattered. The old man stood slowly and disappeared into the building behind him. The curfew had begun.
Gray looked up at the sky. The clouds hung low and unmoving.
Gate Two was not close. He would have to run.
He took one step forward.
Then another.
Whatever waited beyond that gate, he would meet it.
Because staying meant dying slowly.
And he was done waiting.