The transport's airlock hissed open.

A rush of hot, metallic air hit her, thick with the scent of oil, rust, and ozone. Akiko stepped onto the docking platform, boots clanging against metal grates. The air felt heavy. Watchful.

Kara was already ahead, movements crisp and deliberate, eyes sweeping the chaos beyond.

Blackreach unfolded like a beast, towering structures climbing into the cavernous dark of Serynth's underground haven. Neon lights sputtered and buzzed above jagged walkways. Vendors shouted. Machinery groaned. Shadows flickered in too many directions.

Akiko pulled her hood lower. The jacket Kara had loaned her clung in the heat, stifling, but she didn't dare shed it.

"Welcome to Blackreach," Kara muttered. "Keep your head down, your mouth shut, and your hands to yourself. Don't start anything, and you might survive the night."

"Charming," Akiko said under her breath.

But even as she scanned the crowd, something about the rhythm of the place tugged at her. Too familiar. Like the port cities of her old world: loud, layered, alive.

Except this one pulsed with menace beneath the motion. The kind that didn't shout. The kind that waited.

Kara paused to check her processor. A pale map flickered in the air above it.

"This way," Kara said. "Auction hall's close. Don't lose me."

Akiko nodded. She fell into step, the hum of voices and machines rising around them. Every movement in the crowd brushed too close. Every alley gaped like a mouth.

They passed a shadowed alley. Narrow, choked in steam. Kara's gaze flicked sideways. Fast. Sharp.

Akiko caught the shift. "Kara?" she murmured.

"Keep walking," Kara said, voice low. "Don't look back."

Instinct flared. Akiko's fingers twitched, ready to call up claws she wasn't supposed to show.

"We've got company?"

"Four of them," Kara said, barely moving her lips. "Been on us since we left the platform."

Akiko's pulse kicked up. "They know?"

"Probably," Kara replied. "Bounty hunters. Someone on the transport must've tipped them off."

Akiko gritted her teeth. So much for discretion.

"Plan?" she asked, voice clipped.

Kara stopped. "We don't lead them to the auction hall," she said flatly. "Too risky."

Akiko didn't like it, but she didn't argue.

Kara had already turned, scanning the street.

Then they veered. Off the main drag. Into a side lane where the air felt thicker. Quieter. The buzz of voices dimmed, replaced by the hiss of steam and the low hum of failing lights.

Akiko's pulse steadied. Her focus sharpened. Whatever was coming, she was ready.

The moment they slipped into the side street, the footsteps behind them grew louder. Closer.

Akiko's hand twitched toward her hood as she turned.

Four figures emerged from the crowd. Loose formation, practiced steps, the kind that didn't bluff.

The lead mercenary grinned. "Evening, ladies."

His armor was piecemeal but functional. Battle-worn.

"Word is there's a fox with a bounty on her head came through this way. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

Kara stepped forward, voice cold. "I don't know what you're talking about. Move along."

The man's gaze slid to Akiko's hood. "Funny thing about rumors," he said lightly. "They usually start with a little truth. And that hood? Makes me curious."

Beneath the illusion, Akiko's tail bristled.

"You've got the wrong person," she said evenly.

The merc chuckled, low and pleased with himself. "Maybe. Doesn't hurt to check."

"It'll hurt more than you think," Kara replied.

The air thickened. The mercenaries moved. Subtle, spreading, closing off the exit.

The lead tapped his sidearm. "We could talk this out. Or you could make it easy and come with us, fox."

Akiko's magic pulsed under her skin, instinct begging her to lash out.

But Kara raised a hand. "You've got one chance," she said, voice like frost. "Walk away."

The merc laughed. "That's not how this ends."

Akiko saw it before it happened. The twitch at his hip, the angle of his hand. She tensed, mana spooling in her core. No time for cover. Kara's coat was paper-thin compared to her own armor.

Harmonic Barrier snapped outward, doubling, tripling in radius. Mana filaments spiraled out, caught by Takuto's guiding hand, latching onto the outer anchors of her suit. The field bloomed into a wide dome, clear at first, then catching the light in soft ripples of blue-white foxfire.

Applied Spellform Initialized: Harmonic Barrier (Tier I)

Kara jerked, eyes darting up as the shield solidified around them. "Shit, warn me next time."

No time for clever replies.

The mercenaries didn't pause to marvel. The lead lifted his rifle, bracing for the recoil, and fired. The shot slammed into the barrier with a deep, resonant thud, a small spiderweb of light racing across the surface.

Another round cracked from the left. A third snapped through the air so close Akiko instinctively flinched. It shattered harmlessly against the dome, but the impact reverberated through her suit, rattling her bones.

Takuto's voice flickered through her skull, cool and infuriatingly calm. "Energy redistribution optimal. Remaining reserves: sixty-eight percent."

Subskill Acquisition (Harmonic Barrier Dynamics): Wide-Range Defensive Deployment – 10.4% milestone achieved.

Kara took the opportunity. She drew her sidearm in a smooth arc and returned fire.

But each shot wasn't simple. Akiko felt the tug deep in her core as Takuto adjusted the barrier's geometry in split-second ripples, opening slim arcs just wide enough for Kara's muzzle to clear before snapping shut again.

The neural interface at her neck flared hot, a sharp bloom of heat crawling across her skin. Her breath stuttered. Takuto's calm precision danced on a knife's edge, feeding complex vectors through their shared link faster than she could consciously track.

One merc staggered back, armor dented by Kara's return shot. The others scattered, only to regroup a breath later, firing again. Each impact vibrated through her bones. Each carefully threaded return shot tugged harder at her reserves, and pulled another burning jolt through the neural mesh at her spine.

Akiko grit her teeth, eyes narrowing on the nearest muzzle flash. Her foxfire crawled at the edges of her vision, desperate to surge outward, to burn it all away. But that wasn't the plan.

Being the shield. Being the tank. It clawed at her instincts, left her feeling pinned and helpless even as her body stood firm.

Takuto's voice again, low and precise. "Remaining reserves: fifty-four percent."

"Get this over with," she hissed under her breath. Kara didn't answer, just shifted her stance and kept firing.

The mercs staggered, slowed, hesitating as the last rounds broke uselessly across empty air. One ducked behind a low crate, peeking over the edge with wide eyes. Another shifted his rifle, checking settings, like he half-expected the next shot to magically punch through.

A muffled voice barked over their comms. A command, sharp and impatient. The nearest merc flinched, then started forward, boots scuffing across the wet street. The others followed, rifles up, angles tightening.

Trying to flank. Trying to test the edges of her reach.

Akiko exhaled. Let the shield drop. Felt Kara edge away, drawing back into a narrow gap between grimy walls. Trusting her to hold the line.

She shifted forward, slipping neatly in front of Kara. The harmonic barrier dissolved, its geometry collapsing in a whisper of spent mana. Her reserves were shot. Days of quiet meditation, gone in seconds. Takuto's presence ticked quiet caution in the back of her skull, but he didn't intervene.

She didn't need him for this.

These weren't Karn's monsters. Not the entity's puppets. Just mercenaries with delusions of adequacy.

Akiko's lips twitched into something feral. Her claws hissed against the damp air. She didn't need to show them what a real monster looked like. Not yet.

She let her hood fall, human guise released. Fox ears, sharp cheekbones, and glowing amber eyes caught the alley light.

The mercenary hesitated, just for a moment, but it was enough. He saw the bounty. Real and armed.

Akiko smiled. Blue-white flames curled from her fingers, coiling like smoke and snapping into form. Claws of foxfire shimmered into existence, razor arcs of heat and light.

"This," she said, low and lethal, "is more my style."

He lunged. Too late.

Akiko sidestepped. Her claws whistled through the air, scraping sparks from the edge of his blade.

He grunted, recovering, and slashed again. She flowed backward, light on her feet, every motion deliberate.

"Fast," he muttered.

"Faster than you," she replied, eyes sharp with challenge.

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She feinted left, baited him forward, then spun low, claws rising in a searing arc.

He blocked. Barely. But a jagged rend wound its way through his armor as he rocked back to avoid the searing flames.

From the side, Kara didn't stop firing, but spared a glance. "Told you not to draw attention."

Akiko grinned, fire flickering up her arms. "Guess I'm bad at subtle."

The mercenary roared and came in hard.

Akiko ducked under the strike, slipped inside his reach, and slashed. Her claws raked his weapon arm. The knife spun out of his grip. A follow-up kick caught him in the gut. He staggered, breath knocked loose, stumbling back into the wall.

Akiko straightened, claws still burning. "You're done."

He clutched his arm, panting. Blood on his glove.

"This isn't over," he spat. He gave a sharp gesture.

The others hesitated, looking between Kara's unflinching aim, Akiko's claws lit like stars. They broke. A few muttered curses. Then shadows swallowed them whole.

The alley fell quiet, save for the fading echo of retreating boots. Akiko let her claws fade, foxfire dimming into nothing. The glow of overhead lights returned, stark and unkind.

Her heart still raced. Sweat prickled cold at the nape of her neck.

Somewhere deeper in Blackreach, someone laughed. The sound was sharp, bright, and oblivious to the violence that had just happened. Life moved on. Like nothing had happened here at all.

She adjusted her hood and glanced at Kara.

"Come on," Kara said, with a voice that allowed no hesitation. "We're not done yet."

Akiko nodded and fell in beside her.

The streets welcomed them back like a furnace. Neon lights danced across damp metal. The press of bodies closed in.

Akiko pulled her hood low again. Each footstep sounded too loud.

Voices rose from the stalls, vendors barking, machines hissing. Kara scanned the crowd with cold precision. Akiko followed, her instincts taut, the rhythm of her old world whispering through her steps.

"Stick close," Kara muttered. "You don't want to get lost in this mess."

"No kidding."

They turned down a narrower street. The noise dropped away.

Steam hissed from unseen vents. The air grew heavy again. Close. The kind of place where secrets walked freely.

And then the auction hall emerged, hulking and jagged, cobbled together from rusted ship plates and salvaged bulkheads. A fortress made of broken things. Guards circled the perimeter, weapons gleaming in the dim.

Akiko followed Kara through the threshold, and the world changed.

The heat hit first. The air inside was heavier, thick with a strange cocktail of smoke and incense.

Her boots clanked against uneven plating, the floor a patchwork of scavenged metals. Bulkhead panels, hull fragments, industrial scaffolds all hammered together with crude welds. And overhead, dim lights swayed inside wire cages, flickering with every shift in the power grid. Some were tinged blue. Others pulsed violet, faintly reactive.

The crowd pressed inward, figures in dust-slicked armor, black-veiled traders, and mercs with scanning rigs wired into their skulls.

Kara raised two fingers, gesturing for Akiko to stay close. They stepped into the main chamber, a wide open cavity of raised seating and central platforms. Rows of bidders were already settling into their chairs, faces half-shadowed by the orange light spilling from projectors overhead.

Akiko moved in Kara's wake, eyes sweeping across the pedestals lining the perimeter. Everything was fairly… mundane. Expensive, sure. But nothing like what was burning a hole in the Driftknight's cargo hold.

Kara made a beeline for the nearest attendant. He was tall, sharp-suited, with a datapad at his hip and a look that screamed bureaucrat with teeth.

She didn't catch all the words, but the gist was clear: Kara wanted access. Floor time. A backroom evaluation, at minimum.

The man's brow furrowed as he scrolled through her manifest. Whatever he saw there, his expression went through a procession of boredom, disbelief, and then exasperation. Finally, his face went tight.

"That," he said flatly, "isn't something we can evaluate through standard channels."

Kara's expression didn't falter. "Then take us somewhere that can."

The man hesitated, then tapped twice on his comm. "Wait here."

A minute later, another figure approached. She was tall, severe, draped in flowing silks. Her features were refined, her eyes sharp and dismissive before she even reached them. She gestured without a word, and the attendant stepped aside.

Kara followed without looking back, and Akiko fell in beside her, tension tightening in her shoulders. They passed through a secure side gate and down a narrow corridor lined with private booths and sound-dampened chambers.

The side room wasn't large, but it was lavish. Fabric panels hung from the walls, filtering the light into soft, warm colors. A low table split the center, surrounded by cushions.

The woman took her place across from them, settling like a judge behind her bench. "You'll understand," she said, her voice smooth, "why certain… offerings cannot be allowed onto the public floor."

She flicked her fingers, and Kara's manifest appeared in projection. Scrolling entries. Annotated readings.

"This hall prides itself on discretion," the woman continued. "But discretion doesn't mean chaos. Displaying anomalous items before an uninformed crowd would be irresponsible. Dangerous, even."

Kara crossed her arms. "So what, we're supposed to eat the cost?"

The woman's lips quirked. "Not at all. You're in luck, in fact. There are collectors, true patrons, who value the anomalous. One in particular has standing arrangements for anything… singular."

Her eyes slid toward Akiko then. As if she were weighing her value, measuring her worth.

"He calls himself the Curator," she said. "A man of peculiar tastes. He collects things that don't exist. Preserves them. Displays them to no one."

Akiko felt it then, a ripple down her spine, something close but not quite fear.

The woman noticed. Smiled faintly.

"He doesn't meet with sellers directly," she went on. "Collectors of his caliber rarely do. But he has agents, and they'll want to see your wares. You'll speak with them. Not here, of course, these things require privacy."

She gestured again, and one of the side panels shifted open, revealing a corridor flanked with soft lights and a waiting attendant.

"We'll only need one of you for the negotiations."

Kara glanced at Akiko, then gave a curt nod. "Stay out of trouble. I mean it, Akiko."

Akiko didn't argue. But as Kara turned to follow the attendant, she couldn't shake the feeling that they were walking willingly into a snare.

The side door hissed shut behind Kara.

Akiko lingered in the chamber for a moment longer, unsure if she was supposed to wait. No one gave her instructions. No guards told her to leave. The silence was permissive in that way expensive places often were: if you didn't belong, someone would eventually make you feel it.

She stood slowly, uncertain. Looking around the room to see if anyone was waiting to stop her. Nobody did, so she did what she did best in situations like this: she drifted.

Down the corridor, the lighting shifted. Warmer here, almost theatrical, casting long shadows against the inlaid wall panels. She passed one open archway, then another, each revealing a small gallery alcove, its contents held behind transparent pressure barriers and low hums of containment fields.

The first held jagged crystals floating in suspension. Raw mana, pulsing violet and blue, flickering like candlelight underwater. Akiko drew in a sharp breath, the sight snagging at something primal inside her.

They reminded her of the shards Kaede used to work with. Back in her old world when magic was familiar. Tame. Before it bled into metal and machine. Before it turned men into monsters on Ashara, or lured dragons to hoard its sick glow in the belt.

Before it followed her here.

A whisper of cloth passing over layers made her ears flick beneath her hood. She turned to see an attendant approaching, an older woman in muted grays, datapad slung at her side.

"Excuse me," the woman said, crisp but polite. "This section is reserved for credentialed viewers. If you'd return to the—"

She paused. Tilted her head.

Akiko shifted. Her hood fall back just slightly as she turned toward the light. Her ears caught the glow.

The woman blinked. And then smiled, cool and knowing. "Ah. My mistake. I see now. You do look like you… belong here. Well, come along. If you want to get acquainted with the exhibits, you might as well see what you're dealing with."

She gestured to the shards. "These are supposed to amplify power. What power? I don't get paid enough to ask questions. But rumor has it that they came out of a mining disaster on Zephara. Dangerous stuff."

Akiko frowned. Zephara. The name soured her stomach. She'd seen what unchecked mana could do in this universe. If this batch was from there, it wasn't just dangerous, it was cursed.

She made a mental note to tell Kara. If Kara didn't already know.

The woman moved onward, not looking to see if Akiko followed.

The next display shimmered with light bent across metallic slabs, refined alloys veined with prismatic distortion. Labels claimed magical infusion. Marketable, useful. Akiko leaned in.

"Magically reactive metals," she said, reading the display's inscription.

With a gesture from the woman, more information came up in front of the items. "Ideal for armor-work or integrated enchantment systems," she said, reading from the list. "Gibberish, I would've said. But you have the look of someone who has seen stranger things."

Akiko tilted her head. She could almost see Lila cracking one open for analysis. Or Tanya weaving one into her rig. Useful, sure. But also untested. Dangerous. She filed it away.

And then something else caught her attention.

Tucked off to one side, half-obscured by shadows and an ill-fitted stasis projector, sat a smaller display. Inside floated something fragile, delicate wings like rain-slick glass, limbs slight and luminous, breath fogging faintly against its containment.

A fairy.

Akiko froze.

The creature's eyes were wide, shimmering. Intelligent. Frightened.

Her heart twisted.

"Now, this one is special," the attendant said, stepping closer to the display. "I was there when this one was brought in. The hall has had terrible luck since it arrived. Though, perhaps that has something to do with how it has been treated."

Her eyes glittered.

Akiko's jaw clenched. Her fists curled at her sides. She wasn't sure if she should lash out at the woman or storm away.

This wasn't a lucky charm. It was a living thing. A memory of home. And someone had put it in a cage.

She stepped back, her hood shadowing her face.

"What kind of person cages something like that?" she muttered.

The woman didn't answer. Just watched her with that knowing look, like she was cataloging Akiko for the next display.

She turned away, forcing her breath to stay steady, but the next display soured her stomach again. Cylinders of glass. Creatures suspended in fluid. Small, twisted, malformed.

Mana-beasts. Half-born, half-broken.

One was snake-bodied with feathered wings, its form frozen in a rictus of pain. Akiko stared.

These weren't creatures that wandered into mana fields by accident. These were made.

She stepped back, throat tight. Karn's handiwork, maybe. Or someone like him.

The auction hall brimmed with power, though hidden from casual eyes. This was exploitation draped in velvet and forcefields.

Akiko's eyes drifted back to the fairy.

Its gaze met hers. Wide. Bright. Silent.

She held it for a moment. Then looked away.

Sympathy. Guilt. Fury.

She couldn't name what tightened her chest, but she knew it wouldn't go away.

She looked away, just as footsteps echoed behind her. Raised voices.

She turned as Kara stepped back into the corridor through the side door, her expression taut with irritation. Behind her, a thin man in a tailored coat followed at a careful distance, his expression unreadable, but with eyes sharp as razors.

"We've got what we need," Kara called, not breaking stride. "Let's go."

They retraced their steps through the auction hall and then finally stepped out into the streets of Blackreach, the metal corridors swallowing them once more. Cold walls loomed on either side, slick with condensation and lit only by the occasional flicker of neon.

The hum of generators blended with distant conversation. Too muffled to follow, but never far enough to ignore.

Kara moved with clipped purpose, her stride steady but tight.

Akiko followed, casting a glance behind them. Empty alley. No footsteps. Still, something itched between her shoulder blades.

"Well," Kara muttered, breaking the silence. "That was worse than I expected."

Akiko tilted her head. "How bad?"

Kara waved a hand, the other clutched tight around a datapad pulsing with transaction logs. "Bad. If we weren't blacklisted on half the damn moon, we could've gotten double. Maybe triple."

Akiko winced.

Kara turned back, walking again. "I've rerouted the cargo. Callistra to Serynth, straight line. Fewer stops, fewer eyes."

She glanced at the datapad, muttering under her breath. Something about vultures. Greedy middlemen.

Akiko didn't press. "So," she asked instead, "we're done?"

"For now." Kara slowed her pace, scanning the next junction. "Transport back to Callistra leaves in the morning. We just need a place to crash."

Akiko looked up at the flickering lights above. "Any idea where we're staying?"

"Somewhere cheap," Kara said. "Somewhere forgettable."

"Sounds like paradise," Akiko muttered, adjusting her hood.

They turned off the main thoroughfare, weaving into narrower corridors where the glow of the market fell away. The air turned thicker here, tinged with mildew and machine grease. The walls closed in, metallic and rust-stained.

Finally, Kara stopped in front of a squat building with a dying sign that read "Lodgings" in half-lit characters across five languages. Akiko's HUD started to translate the glyphs but she blinked it away. Paint peeled from the walls. The scent of oil clung to the air.

Kara sighed and pushed open the door.

Inside was worse. Dim, stale, barely ventilated. A battered desk sat beneath a buzzing light panel, manned by an attendant who looked one breath away from unconscious. A cluster of mismatched chairs lined the wall, and a dusty terminal blinked erratically in the corner.

Kara stepped up and slapped her hand onto the registration plate. "One night. Two beds."

The attendant grunted, tapped a few keys, and slid a keycard across the counter.

Akiko lingered near the entrance, ears twitching beneath her hood. Voices drifted in from just outside. A man and a woman, talking low and fast.

"…heard output's halved," the man said, tense. "If this keeps up, they'll ration the water."

"They already have," the woman replied. "Some sectors are on schedule. People are panicking."

"It's the rigs," he said. "Something's off. Could be sabotage. Or worse."

"Or worse?" She scoffed. "More of your ghost stories?"

"Strange things happening," he said. "Seems like everywhere you look, things are going sideways."

Akiko's brow furrowed. She leaned toward the door, careful to keep her shadow inside.

Zephara again.

Her thoughts jumped. Mana crystals, rogue artifacts, the stories from the auction. Something was wrong, and it wasn't just scarcity.

"Stop eavesdropping, little fox," Kara called. "We've got a room."

Akiko turned, catching the keycard mid-air as Kara tossed it her way.

"Did you hear what they were talking about?" she asked, voice low. "Zephara's water—"

"I heard," Kara said, already climbing the stairs. "It's not our problem."

Akiko hesitated. "If something's messing with Zephara's water, it could destabilize the colonies. We rely on them, right?"

"And I'm not looking to make new enemies this week," Kara shot back. "We're already bleeding heat. If you want to chase conspiracies, fine. But don't drag the Driftknight into it."

Akiko smirked faintly. "I'll be subtle."

"Like you were on Ashara?" Kara deadpanned.

Akiko winced. "Hey, that turned out fine."

Kara gave her a look. Then turned, boots clunking up the narrow stairs.

"Try not to get anyone nearly killed this time."

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