The Underground Welcome

Razek slowly opened the door, peeking out. "Okay, it's clear. Let's go."

The two slipped out of the shack, jogging across the rooftop before leaping onto the next building.

As they passed over more rooftops, Evryn felt a few droplets of water hit his skin. Before he could say anything, the drizzle turned into a steady rain.

You've got to be kidding me… he thought, glancing up—only to see Razek dancing in the rain, grinning like a maniac.

What the hell is wrong with this guy? Evryn chuckled softly.

Shaking his head, he walked to the edge of the building, gazing out at the city. Neon lights shimmered through the rain, their colors reflecting off the slick streets below. Billboards flickered and buzzed, their static hum blending into the sounds of the city. In the distance, a ship soared beyond the skyline, disappearing into the sky. 

Razek called out to Evryn, snapping him out of his daze. "Come on, we can't stay here forever."

"Right." Evryn muttered.

They continued moving through the city, gradually descending from the rooftops to the streets below.

***

Razek led Evryn into an alleyway.

"Seriously? Another alley?" Evryn sighed. "I don't know about this."

Razek glanced back with a grin. "Trust me, you'll be fineee. Plus, you'll get to meet one of my cool friends."

"Friend?"

"Yeah!" Razek said enthusiastically.

He stopped in front of what looked like a dead-end wall covered in graffiti, grime, and rusted pipes. Without hesitation, he reached toward a section of the wall and knocked twice, his fingers pressing against what seemed to be just another brick. A faint click sounded, and a small panel slid open, revealing a concealed biometric scanner.

Razek placed his hand on it, and after a brief pause, the scanner beeped. With a low mechanical whirr, a hidden door seamlessly blended into the wall creaked open, revealing a dimly lit passageway leading underground. A cool draft drifted out, carrying the scent of metal and damp stone.

Evryn raised an eyebrow. "Okay… that's actually kind of cool."

Razek smirked. "Told you. Now, let's go before someone spots us."

As they stepped into the passage, the hidden door slid shut with a soft, almost imperceptible hiss, the faint glow of the neon lights outside slowly fading as it sealed them off from the rest of the world. The hum of the city dimmed, swallowed by the thick concrete walls, leaving only the distant echoes of their footsteps in the underground corridor.

As they descended the stairs, the further they went, the more the atmosphere shifted. Evryn stepped into the dimly lit room, his eyes gradually adjusting to the faint glow of neon signs flickering behind the bar. The air was thick with the scent of old wood and spilled alcohol. His gaze landed on a man lounging in a chair near a table, boots propped up casually on the surface as if he owned the place.

The man looked effortlessly at ease, one arm draped over the back of his chair, the other idly twirling a sleek pistol between his fingers. His black hair was slightly unkempt, streaked with faint traces of silver, and a light stubble covered his sharp jawline. His blue eyes, sharp and calculating, flicked toward them the moment they entered. His long, weathered coat draped over his frame, reinforced in places as if expecting trouble, and the twin pistols holstered at his sides gleamed under the dim light, their engravings catching Evryn's eye.

Razek grinned and spread his arms. "Ev, meet Cyrus. Best gunslinger in this whole damn city—at least, that's what he keeps telling himself."

Cyrus smirked but didn't move from his relaxed position. "That's because it's true." His voice was smooth, carrying just enough amusement to make Evryn unsure if he was serious or just full of himself.

Razek chuckled and gestured toward Evryn. "This is Evryn. Just got done having the time of his life running from security drones."

Cyrus gave Evryn a once-over, his smirk deepening. "Huh. Still in one piece? Not bad, kid."

Evryn crossed his arms, still catching his breath from the chase. "Thanks, I guess."

Evryn could already tell—this guy was dangerous. But the way he carried himself, with that easy confidence and a glint of something unreadable in his gaze, made it clear he was someone worth keeping an eye on.

Cyrus leaned back in his chair, considering them for a moment. Then, without warning, his hand moved—a flick of his wrist, a flash of motion. Something small shot toward Evryn's face.

Evryn's instincts flared. He barely had time to react, jerking his head to the side as the object zipped past him and clattered against the wall. A small metal cylinder rolled across the floor.

"Hmm," Cyrus muttered, tapping a finger against his temple. "Not bad. But you flinched."

Evryn scowled. "What the hell was that for?"

"Reflex test," Cyrus said, completely unfazed. "If that was an actual shot, you'd be dead."

Evryn straightened, shoulders tense. "And if I caught it?"

Cyrus smirked. "Then I'd have to start taking you seriously."

Razek laughed, slapping Evryn on the back. "Don't mind him. Cy loves testing people. Means he likes you."

Evryn rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I feel so welcome."

Cyrus took a sip of his drink, eyeing Evryn over the rim of his glass. "Ever been in a real fight, kid?"

Evryn crossed his arms. "I can handle myself."

Cyrus smirked. "That so?"

Evryn met his gaze in silence. He didn't owe this gunslinger an explanation. Growing up, fighting wasn't a choice—it was survival.

Cyrus let the silence stretch, then chuckled. "Alright, now I'm interested." He set his glass down and cracked his knuckles.

Razek perked up, already grinning. "Oh, I love where this is going."

Evryn glanced between them, catching onto the shift in the air. "What are you suggesting?"

Cyrus smirked. "Simple. If you're sticking around, let's see if that fight instinct of yours is worth anything."

Razek clapped his hands together. "Ev, you're about to have so much fun."

Evryn sighed. Of course I am.

Cyrus pushes his chair back with a slow scrape against the floor, standing up and rolling his shoulders. His movements are loose, casual—like he's done this a hundred times and already knows how it'll go.

"Alright, kid. No weapons, just fists. Let's see what you got."

Razek backs up with an excited grin. "Oh, this is gonna be good."

Evryn exhales, stepping into a loose stance. His posture isn't perfect, but there's intent behind it. He doesn't just react—he watches.

Cyrus moves first, testing the waters. A quick jab—not aimed to hurt, just to see how Evryn responds.

Instead of dodging outright, Evryn shifts his weight, watching the angle of Cyrus's shoulder and foot placement. He recognizes the setup—not just a punch, but a way to gauge distance.

He doesn't retreat. Instead, he redirects, slapping Cyrus's wrist aside just enough to throw him slightly off-balance.

Cyrus raises an eyebrow. "Huh."

Evryn steps in fast, throwing a precise strike toward Cyrus's ribs. Not wild, not reckless—just controlled enough to force a reaction.

Cyrus blocks, but Evryn is already shifting, twisting his body as he aims a second strike toward the older man's side.

Cyrus barely manages to deflect it. His smirk widens. "Alright. Not bad."

Cyrus moves faster now, adjusting his approach. He feints a strike toward Evryn's face, but Evryn doesn't fall for it—he catches the shift in Cyrus's stance and ducks before the real attack comes, narrowly avoiding a sweeping hook aimed at his ribs.

He's leading me. Evryn recognizes it now. Cyrus is setting traps, forcing him into bad positions.

So Evryn does the unexpected.

Instead of pulling back, he steps into Cyrus's space, throwing off the older man's momentum. In that split second, he drives an elbow toward Cyrus's chest.

Cyrus twists, avoiding the full impact, but Evryn's knee is already coming up. He's open.

Or so Evryn thinks.

At the last second, Cyrus shifts his weight—grabbing Evryn's arm in one smooth motion. In an instant, Evryn finds himself thrown off balance.

He lands on the floor hard, but instead of frustration, something clicks.

He wasn't just faster. He predicted my move before I even made it.

Cyrus offers a hand, that smirk still there. "You think. I like that."

Evryn exhales before grabbing the hand and pulling himself up. He wasn't mad. He was learning.

Razek cackles from the side. "Damn, Ev! You actually made him work for that one!"