The night pressed in with a dense silence. Between the blinking red lights of the distant skyline, the city groaned softly beneath the weight of its secrets. Elius leaned against the railing of the rooftop, the city breeze tugging gently at his coat. Keith stood opposite him, his posture rigid, his expression unreadable. Between them, the tension curled like a living thing—feral, watching, waiting to pounce.
Elius finally broke the silence.
"I'll make you a deal," he said, voice even and soft, yet bearing the edge of something sharp beneath. "I won't harm your loved ones. Not your mother. Not Shania. Not even Fraven or Zhark. I promise."
Keith's eyes narrowed slightly, uncertain of where this was going.
"But," Elius added, "there's a condition."
Keith stepped closer, his hands balling into fists. "What condition?"
