The Gambit

Kalem's breath caught in his throat as he heard the faint shuffle of footsteps behind him—closer now. The Dregs were gaining ground, and the weight of their pursuit was closing in. Panic started to rise in him, but in the midst of the rising terror, something clicked inside. A surge of energy, not from fear, but from something else—something new—began to pulse through his body. The sensation was strange, electric, and before he could think twice, his legs moved of their own accord.

Without another thought, Kalem broke into a sprint.

The alleyways blurred past him, and the city felt as if it was becoming a haze of movement and light. His footfalls pounded against the ground as he ducked, dodged, and swerved through narrow streets and bustling plazas. Every step felt effortless, as if his body had gained a newfound rhythm, each movement far more precise, faster, and fluid than he had ever imagined possible.

He bolted toward the city's heart—the NGN Casino.

A massive, neon-lit building loomed ahead of him, flashing in all its electric glory like a beacon. The signs blinked in an array of colors: red, blue, and gold. **NGN Casino: Where Fortune Meets Fate!** was emblazoned above the entrance in bright, spinning lights. The noise of clinking coins, the buzz of slot machines, the laughter and shouting of gamblers—it all hit him like a wave as he neared the massive revolving doors.

Kalem barely slowed as he approached, weaving in and out of the crowd heading toward the entrance. The heavy sound of his breathing mingled with the noise of the casino as he pushed through the door and entered, stepping into the chaotic world of flashing lights, jingling machines, and the ever-present hum of machines dispensing wealth.

The casino's interior was a sensory overload. The first thing that hit Kalem was the intense smell of cigar smoke and the sterile scent of the air conditioning. It was a strange mix of glitz and grime, where the polished marble floors gleamed beneath the flashing lights, but the air was thick with sweat, cologne, and desperation. The walls were lined with thousands of slot machines, each one ringing with a different sound, flashing different colors. **Ding-ding-ding!** A jackpot rang out nearby, followed by the groans of losers and the cheers of winners.

There was an endless labyrinth of machines, tables, and people—clad in expensive suits and cheap jeans alike. The distant sound of a roulette wheel spinning, the clatter of chips, the rattle of dice—it was like a strange, chaotic symphony. Kalem could feel his heart racing, but the pulse of adrenaline had melded with the strange new power in his veins, making his senses sharper than they'd ever been.

His feet hit the polished floor with a quiet rhythm, making him blend into the sea of people milling about. For the first time in years, he didn't feel out of place. The crowd seemed to part effortlessly for him, as if he were moving through it with an unnatural grace, a flow that made his every movement seem calculated and exact. His legs moved almost mechanically, slipping between people and machines with ease, as though he'd always known this place.

He was faster than he'd ever been before.

**I'm in control.** The thought ran through his head like a mantra. Each time his foot hit the floor, he felt lighter, quicker. His body responded as if it had already known the moves, the patterns of motion, the rhythm of the crowd. The power was real. It was inside him. He wasn't just running anymore—he was gliding.

Kalem took a sharp turn toward the back of the casino, hoping to lose himself in the labyrinth of halls and employee-only sections. He knew this place well—had worked here once as a petty thief, running small jobs for a few local criminals. There was a staff-only security exit tucked away near the back. His fingers slipped into his pocket, pulling out an old, crumpled employee ID card.

He didn't know why he'd kept it. Maybe out of habit, or because he always liked the idea of having an "in." Whatever the reason, it was useful now. He scanned the floor as he headed toward the staff entrance, weaving through tables of gamblers and bartenders who barely noticed him. The lights flashed on him, but his focus stayed sharp, his eyes locked onto the narrow hall that led to the employee section. 

He couldn't hear anything above the noise of the casino, but his instincts told him the Dregs were still following. There was no way they'd give up on him now. He had to get out, and fast.

As he neared the back hallway, he passed a row of high-stakes poker tables, where wealthy patrons in tuxedos threw down chips with smug grins. The house always won here, and Kalem had been on the wrong side of that equation more times than he cared to count. But right now, he didn't care about poker or slot machines. He had to make it to that exit.

He swiped his old ID card through the security system's reader without hesitation. **Click.** The door clicked open with a soft, metallic sound, and he slipped through.

The hallway beyond was dimly lit, the carpet faded and worn from years of heavy traffic. Kalem sprinted down the corridor, but a noise behind him made his heart race anew. Footsteps. Not just one set, but several. They were closing in.

Kalem's breath hitched. He picked up his pace, moving faster down the corridor, toward the security exit at the far end. The sounds of the casino, once comforting, now felt like a distant hum. He was in this hallway alone with his thoughts, and those thoughts were filled with nothing but the constant rush of his heartbeat, the pounding of his feet, and the chase closing in behind him.

His hands grazed the walls, fingers brushing the old, peeling wallpaper, the scent of stale air filling his nose. Then, ahead, the faint outline of a door. His ticket out.

He was almost there.

But then, the sound of someone *shouting* from behind—too close. Kalem's heart skipped a beat. The Dregs had found him. **Shit.**

He pushed himself faster, his body still moving quicker than it had ever moved before. His foot hit a slightly uneven patch of floor, and he stumbled, but it was barely a misstep. The door was just inches away.

He reached for the handle. The moment his hand closed around it, he threw the door open with all the force he could muster, stepping into the back alley outside the casino. The cool night air hit him like a slap in the face.

But his relief was short-lived.

He heard a voice from behind him, low and familiar. **Sid.**

And with that, he knew this escape had only just begun.