Asha

The neon glow of the Outer Spire District cast eerie reflections against the damp pavement as Sol and his reluctant guide arrived at their destination. The thug came to an abrupt stop just outside a gaudy, flashing gambling den that seemed alive with movement and noise. The building pulsed with electric light, holographic advertisements floating in the air, inviting people inside with the promise of fortune and vice.

The thug swallowed hard before speaking. "This is it. We were supposed to bring you here and hand you over to the security at the front. That's all I know, I swear. Can I go now?"

Sol tilted his head, his expression unreadable before his lips curled into a slow, amused smile. "One last thing," he said, pulling something from his sleeve. "Do you like flowers?"

The thug blinked in confusion. "What?"

A delicate red flower rested between Sol's fingers, its petals almost glowing under the district's neon lights. Before the thug could react, the flower released a fine white pollen-like gas directly into his face.

The man's body tensed for half a second before his eyes rolled back, and he crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

Sol crouched next to him, adjusting his collar lazily. "Take a quick nap for a while," he muttered before standing back up and strolling toward the den's entrance, thoughts swirling in his mind.

As he walked, he couldn't help but marvel at how well his affinities suited him. Illusion, Plant, and Time—they were practically made for someone like him, allowing him to blend deception, control, and unpredictability into a seamless art. It was almost scary how naturally they came to him.

His musings were interrupted as one of the security guards at the entrance stepped forward, scrutinizing him. "You don't seem like someone from around here. Who are you?"

Sol flashed his signature innocent smile. "I'm the new delivery boy from Lover's Bar. I heard someone wanted to talk to me here."

The guards exchanged glances, surprised. One of them cautiously asked, "Where's Ron's crew?"

Sol immediately realized they were referring to the thug currently snoring in the alley behind him. His smile didn't waver as he shrugged innocently. "No idea. After I agreed to meet their boss, they just told me to come here. Didn't really feel like waiting."

The guards eyed him suspiciously, something about the situation not sitting right. But then again, Ron was a lazy bastard, and ditching his own job to let someone else handle it actually sounded like him. One of the guards sighed, rubbing his temple. "That idiot... I swear, next time I see him, I'm teaching him a lesson."

"Sounds rough," Sol said with an amused chuckle.

"Whatever, follow me," the guard grumbled, leading him inside.

As they made their way through the gambling den, Sol's sharp eyes took in everything. The flashing lights, the clinking of credits, the raucous laughter of patrons winning and losing fortunes—yet beyond the glamor, his mind worked. His system silently mapped out entry points, possible exits, and areas of interest. Just in case.

Eventually, they reached the top floor, stopping before an imposing red door adorned with intricate carvings of dragons on its sides. Another guard stood in front of it, his face expressionless as he stepped toward Sol, reaching out to pat him down for weapons.

The guard paused, however, when his gaze landed on the small bear lounging comfortably on Sol's shoulder. His brow furrowed as he hesitated. "What... is that?"

Sol, without missing a beat, casually replied, "Peach."

The guard seemed about to ask more when a smooth, elegant voice carried from beyond the door. "Let him in."

Without hesitation, the guard stepped aside and opened the heavy door, revealing the room beyond.

Sol stepped inside and was immediately greeted by an extravagant sight. The room was lavishly decorated with silk drapes, golden accents, and dim lighting that made everything feel rich and mysterious. In the center of it all sat a stunning woman with three shimmering fox tails draped elegantly behind her. The way they caught the light made them seem almost ethereal, and her mesmerizing smile could ensnare anyone who dared to look too long.

Her piercing eyes scrutinized Sol from head to toe, a silent assessment behind her coy expression. After a moment, she finally spoke, her voice smooth as silk. "You must be Lover's Bar's new hire. Do I have the pleasure of knowing your name?"

Sol pulled out his trademark smirk, tilting his head slightly. "You can call me Sol. And you are?"

She let out a soft chuckle, her smile deepening. "You can call me Asha." She gestured toward the plush seating across from her, her movements as fluid as her voice. "Please, have a seat."

Sol, however, took his time entering fully, his gaze drifting around the lavish room as if he owned the place. His slow, deliberate movements weren't out of awe but rather something more calculated—almost dismissive. Asha noticed. Her fox-like smile didn't falter, but for the briefest moment, there was the smallest flicker of a frown before she masked it effortlessly.

They exchanged small talk for a while, Asha's voice smooth and laced with an easy charm, while Sol responded with his usual playful yet guarded tone.

"So," Asha began, swirling a delicate glass of amber liquid in her hand, "how is life treating Lover's Bar's newest delivery boy? Adjusting well?"

Sol gave a small chuckle, tilting his head slightly. "It's been interesting. Luminara's got a lot of surprises."

Asha leaned forward slightly, her golden eyes gleaming with curiosity. "Mmm, I imagine it does. You must've seen quite a bit already. Anything that stood out?"

Sol shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "Nothing too crazy. Just the usual neon lights, strange people, and places that bend reality."

Asha's lips curled into an amused smirk. "Ah, the Archive. Not many stumble upon it. Quite the lucky find."

Sol didn't react outwardly, though he took note of her words. She knew. He kept his voice light. "Lucky, huh? Maybe."

Asha chuckled softly. "Or maybe it was fate." She took a slow sip from her glass before setting it down. "Would you like a cup of tea?"

Sol's expression shifted. He sat up a little straighter, his smirk fading as he met her gaze with something far more serious. "My mother always told me not to take things from strange ladies."

The room's atmosphere shifted instantly. The warm, flirtatious air turned still, heavy with something unspoken. The glint in Asha's eyes darkened, though her smile remained perfectly in place.

A tense silence stretched between them before Asha's smile finally faded, her expression growing unreadable. She exhaled softly, tapping a single nail against the rim of her glass.

"Let's not play around anymore," she said, her voice losing its playful lilt. "I have questions, and you're going to answer them."

Sol arched a brow, amused by the sudden shift in tone. He tilted his head slightly, his smirk returning with a sharp edge. "Or what, exactly?"

Asha's golden eyes narrowed ever so slightly as she leaned back, resting her elbow on the armrest. "Oh, nothing too dramatic," she mused, her voice as smooth as silk. "But my men have been awfully restless lately, and they do tend to be rather... aggressive when they're left idle for too long."

She traced a delicate finger along the rim of her glass before tilting her head, her smile slow and predatory. "Perhaps a bit of playtime with them will loosen your tongue. Who knows? You might be more willing to talk after a little entertainment."

Sol couldn't help himself—he threw his head back and laughed, the sound sharp and full of amusement. Asha's expression flickered with brief surprise at his reaction, her tails twitching in intrigue.

Still grinning, Sol leaned forward slightly, resting his chin on his hand as he snapped his fingers. "Go ahead, call them."

Asha's brows furrowed, and she parted her lips to call for her guards—but her pupils shrank in an instant when no sound came out. Her throat moved, her mouth formed the words, but the room remained deathly silent.

As she turned back around to face Sol, she noticed a beautiful orange flower softly glimmering in his fingers. Before she could react, the pollen-like gas dispersed into the air, seeping into her system. Instantly, her body locked up, as if struck by an invisible surge of electricity. She couldn't move—paralyzed in place. 

Truthfully, Sol knew the noise cancellation illusion wasn't that strong; if she had persisted, she might have realized its fragility. But now, it didn't matter. 

Sol smirked, twirling the delicate flower between his fingers. "Do you like the flower I got for you?"