Under the dark velvet blanket of the galaxy above, the cold breeze whispered through the empty streets of the district, its icy fingers tracing the edges of the buildings. The silence was thick and suffocating, broken only by the creak and groan of shop doors swaying under the wind's relentless touch.
Kal, Bako, and Bili stood back-to-back, their bodies tense as drawn bows, faces shifting in three different directions, scanning the rooftops, windows, and shadow-choked alleyways. Their senses were on high alert, every nerve strung tight as the tension in the air wrapped around their tendons like icy chains.
The streets felt like a breath held too long, waiting to be exhaled. Then, it snapped. From the shadows of the alleyway Kal faced, two knives tore through the darkness, their hissing flight slicing the silence like venomous serpents.