Three days later, Azen still felt the hum beneath his skin.
Every sound in the city had rhythm now — footsteps, horns, electricity, rain. All of it pulsed with the same hidden beat. The Vein.
Silver noticed. "You're listening to it, aren't you?"
He turned. "It's like it's calling me."
She smirked. "It calls everyone. Most just never answer."
They stood on a rooftop overlooking the lower blocks. Rex was crouched near the ledge, scanning the streets below.
"Quiet Hand's been moving again," Rex said. "They're pulling power out of the south tunnels. Kane's not gonna like it."
Azen's fingers twitched. "Who are they really?"
"The Quiet Hand?" Silver said. "Ghosts. No faces, no noise. Just disappearances and signals. They want the Vein. They think it belongs to them."
Rex stood. "We've got orders — intercept their runners tonight. Kane says you're coming."
Azen's brow furrowed. "Already?"
Kane's voice came from behind them. "Power doesn't wait, Azen. It tests loyalty as much as skill."
That night, they struck.
The tunnels were wet and dark, filled with echoes of dripping water and whispers of movement. Azen moved with Silver and Rex — swift, silent, efficient.
Then came the first clash.
Shadows darted from the corners — figures in black, faces hidden by masks marked with a white handprint.
Fights broke like storms. Azen dodged a knife, countered with a strike that sent a man spinning. The Vein whispered in his ears, guiding his rhythm. He felt every motion like he was born for it.
Then one of them lunged, blade glowing faintly — the same kind of glow from Azen's Proof.
Their weapons clashed. The impact lit the tunnel with a flash of energy.
Both staggered back. The masked man looked at him, startled. "You… touched the Vein too."
Azen froze. "What did you say?"
Before the man could answer, Rex shot him clean. "No talking. We finish what we start."
The fight ended fast. The silence afterward was heavier than victory.
Kane stepped out from the shadows. "Good work," he said. "But the Game isn't won by killing. It's won by knowing why you're fighting."
Azen looked down at his hands again — faint light still flickering.
He didn't have an answer yet.