The Rising Shadow

The auction was over, and now we were stuck in the paperwork line, a slow shuffle of winners and staff under the dim glow of overhead lights. The air smelled faintly of sweat perfume, the buzz of the crowd fading into tired murmurs. I stood with Serina a step behind Hina, who was at the front of our little group, handling everything like she always did. Her boots tapped impatiently against the tiled floor as we waited our turn to claim Nox.

When we finally reached the table, a bored-looking guy in a wrinkled shirt glanced up at us. "IDs and payment method," he said, barely looking up from his clipboard. His partner, a woman with a tight bun and too much lipstick, sat nearby, tapping a pen against her paper.