Chapter 74: Cigars and Whiskey

Clean water ran down Orion's body. Years of grime and filth tainted it black as it swirled into the drain.

His skin, while pale, was clean once again. His hair no longer had streaks of black and grey too, returning to its original rich brown. Only his eyes remained touched by the past- the faint purple still lingering in the lower irises.

He couldn't tell if he conquered it, or if it fled back into hiding.

Fatigue weighed on him as he rested his head against the shower wall, letting the warmth of the water numb his thoughts.

Even now, it was hard to believe. Silco, of all people, was the one to save him again. Silco involved himself directly, broke him out, and now he allowed him to use his private facilities.

It was an understatement to say that layers of depression and disappointment built up inside him after the crew, which he had risked his life for multiple times for, didn't come for him, again.

They knew he was alive this time.

'I guess Vander really did mean it when he said go...' Orion thought numbly, turning the shower off.

Green shirt and brown pants- a growing theme, it seemed. Orion fitted himself and stepped outside.

Silco was lounged lazily on his couch with a lit cigar in one hand and a glass of whiskey in the other. His gaze slowly drifted toward Orion and followed him as he walked across the residence.

The air was thick with cigar smoke and a heavy tobacco smell.

Without speaking, Silco gestured toward a chair with the cigar in hand before taking another puff.

It was the middle of the night and the two stared at each other with a singular light illuminating the room.

"You're a man now, Orion," Silco mutters as Orion's gaze lowers to a separate glass of whiskey and cigar laid before him. "A bit of relaxation after such a harrowing experience?"

Frowning, Orion's gaze settled on them for a moment before reaching out wordlessly to take a swig. He was never a whiskey drinker in his past life, but it felt appropriate and well-deserved now.

Lifting the cigar next, he heard a flick- the quiet spark of a lighter. Silco had set his whiskey down and pulled out his lighter, watching him with an unreadable expression.

Putting it in his mouth, Orion was going to reach for it but instead, Silco leaned forward. Once again, Orion was left stunned as Silco lit his cigar.

"You've smoked before, haven't you?" Silco asked.

"Yeah, for a bit," Orion said tiredly and let out a puff of smoke, leaning back into the armchair. 

With a low chuckle, Silco said, "Mischievous in more ways than one. I discover more about you every time we speak. It was a shame we couldn't talk more before those... incidents, happened."

"How did you know I was alive?"

"I have eyes and ears everywhere." Silco's voice was smooth, unwavering. "Do you think a Chembaron factory- one connected to Clan Ferros no less- blowing up in the middle of the Undercity wouldn't reach my ears? Or the strange phenomenon that followed?"

Smirking confidently, he leaned back slightly and continued. "I'm the Undercity's industrialist. And Shimmer? It buys a lot of loyalty these days."

Orion exhaled slowly, taking another drag from his cigar. He wanted sleep, but respect was due to his two-time savior. Yet, questions lingered.

"Except you didn't do anything for six years. No one did."

"No," Silco admitted without a hint of guilt or regret. Instead, it was measured and calculated. "My attention was elsewhere. Breaking someone out of Stillwater Hold takes time- and a lot of resources."

His corrupted eye glinted dangerously as he leaned in slightly. "I've invested in you, Orion. I've freed you. Twice. I expect the same respect in return."

"Six years," Orion mused, watching the embers glow at the tip of his cigar as Silco's gaze sharpened. "Which means something is happening now that requires you to free me. You need a wildcard."

Silco opened his mouth, but Orion cut him off.

"I will," Orion said firmly. "Vander's gang?"

A long, heavy silence followed. The two men stared each other down, the tension thick. Silco, maintaining eye contact, took another slow puff from his cigar before answering dismissively.

"You overestimate their straightforward tactics. They aren't nearly the thorn in my side they like to think they are. Nor are they the reason I need you now."

Without breaking eye contact, Silco tipped back his whiskey, downing it in one go. He set the glass down and tossed a small pouch of coins across the table. It landed in front of Orion with a dull 'clink' sound.

"I won't ask you to pursue them," Silco said smoothly. Orion's gaze narrowed at the pouch.

"You just crawled out of Stillwater," Silco continued, eyes gleaming. "And in your current state, you wouldn't be of much use to me."

Orion frowned. "So..."

"Relax!" Silco exclaimed with a loud, mocking chuckle, dragging out his next words with obvious disdain. "It's Happy Progress Day, didn't you know?"

Orion gritted his teeth, his temper flaring beneath the surface. It must have shown, because Silco's eye narrowed at him in silent warning.

"Don't do anything stupid," Silco said, his tone measured but firm. "Go out. Take it in. See what's changed. If you meet those brats, don't let it bother you- enjoy it with them, if that is what you want."

His expression made it clear- he truly didn't care about Vander's gang anymore. Annoying pests, at the most.

But his final words carried more weight. Slower, heavier, spoken with quiet authority.

"Return to me. We'll talk once you've had time to settle."