The next day, when Kael knocked on Arin’s door and said in his usual formal, cold tone, “We’ll need to go somewhere tonight,” he initially thought it was a new assignment. But that was all he said. He didn’t explain where or why they were going.

Wearing a long midnight-blue coat, Kael walked swiftly ahead, and for perhaps the hundredth time, Arin asked the same questions: “Is it a new case? Or something else? Come on, talk to me!”

Kael didn’t answer. They passed through back alleys, long since leaving behind the city’s modern and clean face. The lights of the Virellum reactors had been replaced by flickering neon lamps, people wore worn casual jackets and boots, and faded protest posters clung to the walls. As Arin looked around, he understood better: this was not Kael’s world. No protocol officer with the Imperial’s gloved hands would step foot in a place like this.

Kael’s expression was stone-like, but his usual sharp focus was gone—his gaze unfocused, shoulders slightly slack.

Still curious, Arin's eyes darted around before he asked, "Where are we, Kael?”

“Follow me. Don’t fall behind,” he said quietly.

“Oh, so you can talk?” Arin said mockingly.

Without replying, Kael turned into another street and Arin quickly followed.

The street was narrow and dark, shadowed by dilapidated buildings on both sides. Rusty pipes clung to the windowsills, releasing a faint metallic tang into the damp air, while thin copper wires trailed from the rooftops, crisscrossing the street like a web. The air was heavy with the strong smell of brewed malt whiskey and smoky machine oil. Faint rhythmic hisses of distant steam boilers filled the ears.

Amidst the chaos, Arin's attention fixed on a building at the street's end, where bright yellow letters flashed: ZESS They were headed there.

Reflexively, Arin’s hand went to his ring, disturbed by the eerie men and women around.

Azimushan chuckled softly in his mind. “If you want a shore, master, I can give you one.”

Pulling himself together, Arin called to Kael, “Maybe slow down a bit? That mechanical leg of yours could use some control.”

Kael turned toward him, sensing his unease. Sometimes he had to remind himself that the person in front of him was just a newly of-age boy.

“As soon as we go inside, don’t leave my side and control your jinn no matter what you see. We came for help, not to start a fight.”

Instead of looking around, Arin quickly faced Kael. “Help? Who do you know here?” he asked, curious.

Kael didn’t answer and instead headed toward the door of Zess, speaking briefly to the massive guards standing there. Arin tried to catch what he said but failed. Then, suddenly, the doors swung open before them.

Once inside, it occurred to Arin that the place was much smaller than its exterior suggested; nearly the size of Kael’s living room but far more cramped and suffocating.

The interior was crowded; every corner pulsed with tense conversations. PPeople of rare tribes and foreign lineages he’d never see in the city center watched each other silently under pale lights; some sipping their drinks with measured caution, others dancing to the fast music, eyes shut as if chasing distant memories. This was a dark hole the Empire’s gloved hands either couldn’t or wouldn’t reach.

Arin perceived that some were heavily intoxicated and, understanding why, simply averted his gaze.

Kael turned again, “Be careful,” he said.

This time Arin just nodded; there was no place or time for rebellion.

They made their way through the crowd toward the bar. Under the dim lights, the bartender kept his distance but looked at Kael and greeted him with a slight nod:

“The boss was waiting for you.”

Kael’s face didn’t change; he only nodded slightly. Arin noticed a subtle tension in the bartender’s attitude but would soon understand why.

Two more guards waited at a side door of the bar. When they opened it for them, they descended a staircase. As they passed down a long corridor, Arin heard the whispers of the crowd, footsteps, and the faint vibrating rhythm of music. When they finally reached the source, the air was thick with a mix of sweat and alcohol.

The room was packed; people were deeply engaged in conversation with glasses in hand, some laughing loudly, others whispering secret deals. Among the crowd, a few tables featured half-naked women and men performing private shows for customers, their bodies gleaming with sweat under stage lights. Arin had only heard of such places in stories.

“Is this where the party is?” Arin shouted.

Kael nodded slightly. “Yes. In this place, nobody cares to put on a face. They just stay out of each other’s way.”

As Kael walked through the crowd, his eyes constantly scanned the surroundings, alert to any sudden threat. This was a completely different world; faces were hidden, intentions dangerous.

Just then, a figure appeared ahead in the crowd. His face held that cold, calculating expression. Kael suddenly stopped and looked at the man, startling Arin.

Tattoos covered his body from his neck down to his hands. His jacket sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and the black ink patterns on his skin shimmered in the light with each step. Tall and slender, he carried an aura of confidence, a stark contrast to Kael, who was a product of order, discipline, and the Empire.

As he approached, the crowd silently parted to make way. Conversations died down, and no one took their eyes off him.

When the man reached them, Arin thought how different he was from Kael. Kael was the embodiment of order and control, but this man reeked of chaos and rebellion from head to toe. There was a flicker of cruel humor in his eyes, sharpened by a predator’s patience.

Arin swallowed nervously, a question forming in his mind: what kind of people had Kael gotten involved with?

“Welcome, Kael,” the man said, cold and sharp. Without hesitation, Malachi stepped forward and pulled Kael into a close, almost possessive embrace. His hand lingered a moment longer on Kael’s shoulder, fingers pressing gently but firmly. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he brushed his lips against Kael’s cheek; it was soft, teasing, and unnervingly intimate. Kael didn’t pull away, though a flicker of tension tightened his jaw and his eyes darkened with quiet discomfort. Malachi’s gaze bore into him, amusement and something more unspoken swirling in his eyes.

“You came earlier than I expected, brother.”

Arin’s mouth literally fell open. Unsure if he had heard correctly, he glanced at Kael and then back at Malachi. The boldness of Malachi’s touch lingered in the air between them, sending an unexpected chill through Arin’s chest. He was definitely shocked, intrigued, but there was also something else, something he couldn’t quite name.

Kael’s face showed no expression. “Malachi.”

Malachi’s smile barely touched his eyes, cold and thin like a cracked mirror. Then he stepped back, distancing himself with a deliberate coolness. His eyes briefly flicked to Arin.

His gaze lingered on him longer than necessary, as if memorizing every detail from head to toe.

Azimushan simmered with anger in the back of his mind. “This guy is practically devouring you with his eyes, master. Want me to poke his eyes out?” he said.

Then Malachi’s face took on that mocking, indifferent expression again. “Is this yours, Kael? Well, this is quite the development.”

Arin frowned, trying to understand what he meant.

“He’s just with me,” Kael said coldly and shortly.

Malachi laughed shortly. “With you... of course.” His eyes returned to Arin, the sharpness in them tinged with amusement. “I've never seen Kael with anyone by his side in a very long time.” Then he suddenly turned his gaze to Kael. “Neither here, nor outside.”

His words hung threateningly in the air. The muscle in Kael’s jaw tensed for a moment but he said nothing. But Arin could tell Malachi had hit a nerve. .

Malachi made a casual hand gesture as if to show the way. “Come. I’ve prepared for your visit. The two of us... and, of course, your little guest as well.”

Arin waited for Kael to move; Kael stared at Malachi for a moment longer.

Then without a word, he walked on. Malachi led the way, Kael followed, and Arin quickened his pace behind them. The crowd silently parted again, all eyes on them. They were descending deeper into Zess now. And once again, Arin felt truly alien to Kael’s world.