[Rowan's POV]
Five years had passed since the night we escaped the Risen Camp. Time had done more than just help us forget—it had carried us forward, whether we were ready or not. The scars of that time still lingered, etched into our bodies, our minds, but in our own ways, we had each found something resembling peace.
I stood inside a house—large, at least by slum standards. Sturdy walls, a roof that didn't leak when it rained. A luxury in a place like this.
Time had changed us, too. I had grown taller, towering over most men in the slums now. My face had sharpened, losing the soft edges of childhood, though some days, I still felt like that same scared kid running through the dark, chasing freedom. But the mirror didn't reflect him anymore. The boy I used to be was buried beneath the weight of years, leaving behind someone harder, someone who had learned to survive.
I turned away from the makeshift window, letting my gaze drift over the people gathered in the dimly lit room. Familiar faces, ones I had fought for, bled for, and somehow, against all odds, survived with.
Elias sat at the table, hunched over a worn notebook, his brow furrowed in quiet concentration. He had changed the most, no longer the fragile boy I had carried through the chaos of that night.
His shoulders had broadened, his frame filling out with the strength of someone who had learned to endure. Sometimes, when the light hit just right, I could even see the beginnings of muscle beneath his skin—a reminder that time had not left him untouched.
Next, my eyes found the infamous duo—Talia and Tobias, locked in yet another one of their endless arguments. Talia, now officially an Awakened, carried herself with the confidence of someone who had tasted power and claimed it as her own. Tobias, ever the instigator, wore his usual smirk as he goaded her on. Some things never changed.
Then, my gaze landed near the door, where two of our new additions stood. One of them, Handy, as we had come to call him—a one-handed thief with a strange accent and an even stranger skillset. He was a few years older than Talia, quick-witted, sharp-eyed, and despite the rough exterior, more capable than most men with two good hands.
The other newcomer, Alicia, stood beside Handy, her small frame almost lost in the dim light of the room. But if size meant anything, it certainly didn't measure the heart beating in her chest. She was kind to the point of foolishness, the kind of person who would still look for the good in people even when the world had done nothing but spit in her face.
Maybe that was why Handy had sworn to protect her. He was rough around the edges, but when it came to Alicia, he was as steadfast as a knight sworn to a cause.
They had joined us after we pulled Handy out of trouble during a job gone sideways. A debt repaid, though none of us ever spoke about it like that. We weren't the type to keep track of who owed what. If you were in, you were in.
And now, our little band of misfits had its sights set on something big.
Tonight wasn't just another scrap for survival. Tonight, we were after something that could set us up, something worth real gold. We had done anything and everything to get by these past five years—odd jobs, thieving, even dealing in things we had no business dealing in. Survival didn't care much for morals.
I let my gaze sweep over them, their faces tense with anticipation.
"Listen," I said, my voice steady, firm—the kind of voice that had grown into command over the years, honed by experience, by necessity. "This is the biggest job we've ever pulled. If we do this right, we walk away with enough to change everything. But we only get one shot, so don't fuck it up."
"Aye, aye, captain," Tobias called from across the room, his voice laced with amusement, as if this were just another game to him. It never was, not really, but that was Tobias—always ready with a grin, even when the stakes were high.
I rolled my eyes but didn't let the moment stretch. "Alright, let's go over the plan one more time." The room quieted, all eyes turning to me, waiting.
I let the words settle before speaking again. "There's a factory, tucked away deep in the slums—hidden, because even Count Veyra doesn't want his enemies sniffing too close." I said his name slowly, deliberately, and like clockwork, I caught the flicker in Talia's eyes. A sharp, unyielding glint of hate. She tried to hide it, but I knew her too well. And I understood. Some wounds never closed, not really.
"In that factory, there's an artifact—a sword," I continued, dragging my gaze over each of them, making sure they were listening. "Something our client wants badly enough to pay a small fortune for. But it won't be there long, a few days at most, so this is it. One shot to get it right."
I paused, letting the weight of it sink in, my eyes scanning the room. The air was thick, humming with something between tension and anticipation.
"Alright, let's get to the plan." I leaned forward, my gaze locking onto Talia. "Your part is crucial. You'll handle the guards—quick, quiet, and clean. No noise, no mess. Your awakened strength should make this easy, right?"
Talia scoffed, arms crossed, chin lifted in defiance. "Please. Do you really think a couple of nobodies could stop me?"
I exhaled sharply, leveling her with a look. "Talia, this isn't a game. Your role is the backbone of this job. There shouldn't be any awakened in the factory, but that doesn't mean the guards will be pushovers. Don't get cocky, don't get sloppy. Understand?"
For a moment, her usual bravado wavered. "…Yeah, yeah. I got it," she muttered, rolling her shoulders.
I nodded, then turned to the rest of them. "We've been watching the place for weeks. Two guards on patrol at all times. We take them out, get the keys, and move fast. If they don't have the keys, Handy—" My eyes flicked to the one-handed thief, his expression sharpening.
"Ya, I heard you chef. " Handy said before I could even finish.
"Good," I murmured. "Because once we're inside, there's no turning back"
My squad nodded, their usual smirks and banter fading, replaced by the grim focus this job demanded. I let the silence settle for a moment before speaking again.
"Listen up. We're not hitting some two-bit merchant or picking pockets in the market. We're going after a count—a man with power, resources, and the kind of reach that could have us buried before we even get the chance to run. If we slip up, if even a whisper of this gets out before we're done, we won't just be hunted—we'll be erased."
A heavy pause. Then, from the side, a hesitant voice broke through. "I still don't think this is a good idea."
I turned to Alicia, finding her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her lips pressed together in unease. There was doubt in her eyes, a flicker of fear.
I met her gaze, unwavering. "No, Alicia. This is a brilliant idea." A slow breath. A sharp grin. "That is… if we don't fuck it up."
"Alright, once we're inside, we head straight for the basement," I said, my voice low and steady. "That's where they're keeping it—the sword. It'll be locked behind a heavy door, and Handy," I turned to him, meeting his sharp, knowing gaze, "I trust you can handle that."
He smirked, but I didn't linger on it. This wasn't the time for bravado.
"As soon as we have it, we're gone. No second-guessing, no detours, no hesitation. In and out, clean and fast." I exhaled slowly, letting my next words settle over them like a cold weight. "And if something—anything—goes wrong, we pull out. No heroics, no greed. We slip up, we die. Simple as that."
My gaze shifted to Elias and Alicia, the youngest of us, the ones I was entrusting with our safety. "You two stay outside, watch our backs. If anything feels off—Someone getting closer than they should, patrols acting weird—Elias, you get inside and warn us. No waiting, no hesitating. Understood?"
"Yeah… I understand," Elias said, but there was hesitation in his voice, a flicker of doubt in his eyes. I could see it—he didn't want to stay back, didn't want to be the one left waiting. But he had insisted on coming, on being useful, on proving himself. And I wasn't about to coddle him. Not now.
"Good." I let the moment hang before glancing at the rest of them. "Anything else we need to go over before we head out?"
They exchanged glances, but no one spoke. Just silent, determined shakes of their heads.
"Alright then," I exhaled, letting a smirk creep onto my lips. "Let's get fucking rich."
That was the signal. Everyone moved at once, gathering their gear with the efficiency of people who'd done this a hundred times before. I reached for my mask, pulling the worn cloth over my face, the fabric familiar against my skin. Then I strapped a dagger to my belt, checking its weight with a practiced flick of my wrist.
No more waiting. No more talking. We were ready.