The streets of Level One pulsed with quiet energy, a controlled hum of life beneath the weight of military order. Even at night, the district never truly slept—just shifted into something slower, more deliberate. Ava walked at an even pace, her hands in her pockets, posture relaxed but aware. She wasn't running. She wasn't sneaking. She was acting real.
Lucas's words echoed in her mind.
"Go in. Have a drink. Talk business. Make it normal."
It should have been simple. But nothing about Angel's world was simple.
Zero sat tucked between two taller buildings, its neon sign flickering between life and death, casting a dull red glow over the entrance. Not flashy. Not extravagant. A bar for people who did business outside of formal contracts.
Ava pushed the door open and stepped inside.
