As the two moved deeper into the heart of the underground bazaar, the low murmur of cloaked figures bartering rare and forbidden items filled the air like a quiet storm. Dimly lit lanterns hung from the cracked ceiling of the tunnel, casting shifting shadows on the stone walls as footsteps echoed through the crowded but oddly hush passage. The smell of old parchment, oils, and steel hung heavy, mingled with the faintest trace of incense that seemed to come from nowhere in particular.
Yuki turned to Niko, his expression unreadable beneath the low brim of his hood.
"So," he said, voice casual but laced with a cautious edge, "what exactly are you here for, kid?"
Niko, still slightly on guard but comfortable enough to answer, shrugged. "Clues."
Yuki raised an eyebrow. "Clues for what?"
Niko looked down for a moment. He didn't know whether he should speak. The house taught you not to trust easily, but something about Yuki's presence… it wasn't threatening. Just tired. So he took the risk.
"There's a man. Cloak. Dragon symbol stitched on the back. He buys people. Don't know who he is—but I need to find him."
Yuki's pace slowed a beat. He looked over at Niko for a long second, then gave a slow shake of his head. "Never heard of a guy like that. But you need to be careful even sayin' something like that down here."
Niko tilted his head. "Why?"
"Because it could get you killed," Yuki said bluntly. "This place may look like a market, but it's a den of knives, kid. Everyone here's got secrets. You bring up something that sounds like it's tied to the wrong people, and you vanish. Simple as that."
They walked in silence for a moment longer before Niko looked up. "What about the royal family? How come they don't know about this place?"
At that, Yuki let out a humorless scoff. "The Oche, huh?"
Niko blinked. "Oche?"
"Yeah," Yuki continued. "Dem Oche. That's the name of the family in that big spiral tower you've probably seen from the distance. They've been trying to find this place for years. Sent scouts. Set bounties. People vanished. Every time. Eventually they gave up. But now? They catch someone sniffing too close to this part of the ring, they don't ask questions. Just a clean blade to the throat. No trials. No warnings."
Niko absorbed the information silently, mind spinning. There was more going on in this place than he'd ever guessed.
They continued on until something caught Niko's eye. A quiet, dust-covered stall tucked away in a far corner. No lights. No keeper. Just forgotten objects sprawled across the table like they'd been waiting centuries.
People walked by as if it weren't even there.
Yuki glanced at it, uninterested. "If no one's manning it, it's probably worthless junk. Move on."
But Niko stepped forward slowly, something tugging at him. Drawn, almost. His eyes landed on a strange object—small, simple, metallic. A star-shaped pendant etched with spiral markings, faintly glowing. He reached for it. The moment his fingers touched the surface, something pulsed under his skin. A light flickered behind his eyes.
A translucent screen bloomed in the air before him.
Uriah's PendantEnchantment: Slight QueueEffect: Damaging an opponent with an ability causes them to experience a 2-second delay before they can use another ability.Title Lore:"Uriah was among the first. A builder, a warrior, a torchbearer. She arrived at the Sanctuary with her cohort, dreaming of a haven. But power attracts power. And when Dem Oche came, Uriah stood in defiance. Her cohort vanished into myth. Uriah was never seen again. But the ground still whispers her name."
Niko stared at the words, silent. The pendant hummed faintly in his palm.
"What… is this?" he murmured.
Yuki turned, seeing the screen hovering in the air. His brows furrowed. "You got that… just by touching it?"
Niko nodded slowly.
Yuki's eyes narrowed. "Looks like the Pale Arc's watching you closer than you thought."
Niko looked up, the weight of the pendant sinking into his chest. Somehow… this was just the beginning.
Niko slipped the pendant into the inner pocket of his coat, fingers brushing against the cool metal one last time before it disappeared into the fabric. A strange weight settled in his chest—not just the item, but the lingering story it carried. Uriah. A name from an era long gone. He kept hearing it in his mind, like an echo clawing through the cracks of time. A cohort… a sanctuary… vanished.
And Dem Oche.
The way the description spoke of them—it wasn't just history. It felt personal. Like the Pale Arc itself was telling him a story, one shard at a time. Niko stared at the ground as he walked beside Yuki, boots tapping against ancient stone and rust-colored earth. He wondered, not for the first time, Why does the Pale Arc reward people like me? Like them?
But the thoughts grew foggy as another, more pressing one slid into place.
What time is it?
His eyes snapped toward the dusty, artificial sky of the black market. There was no sun down here, no real way to tell how much time had passed. But he could feel it. A tension building in his chest. The kind of instinct the House had taught them—when to strike, when to vanish, and when to move.
"I need to go," he said suddenly.
Yuki raised an eyebrow mid-stride. "What, already? We barely got to the fun part." His smirk returned, pulling slightly at the edge of his mouth.
Niko gave him a flat look. "I've got places to be."
Yuki laughed under his breath and shook his head. "Right, right. Busy guy. Dangerous city. C'mon, then. I'll show you the way out."
They turned down a quieter lane, the hum of voices fading as they stepped into the outskirts of the market. The walls here were older, more organic—formed not by design but by growth, like the bones of the Pale Arc itself were curling in around the passage. At a small corner stall sat a girl—young, perhaps a year or two older than Niko, with thick gloves and soot on her cheeks. She was tinkering with some kind of device that sparked with electric pulses.
Yuki gave her a nod but didn't say "Buchi" like last time. Instead, he simply said, "We're heading out."
She didn't even look up. Just extended a gloved hand toward them. A ripple of energy passed through the air, barely visible, like a shimmer of heat over desert sand.
In an instant, the air folded—colors distorted—and the market vanished.
The two reappeared in the back kitchen of the restaurant, where the scent of charred meat and spice hit them instantly. Niko blinked against the sudden change in lighting, adjusting.
"Well," Yuki said, brushing imaginary dust off his coat, "next time you want to get your lungs filled with secrets and your coat filled with ancient pendants, you know where to find me."
Niko gave a small nod, his face already returning to that calculating stillness. "Thanks."
They stood for a moment, eyes meeting. Then Yuki raised a hand in farewell.
"Take care of yourself, kid."
And with that, they parted.
Niko stepped out into the bustling streets of the Pale Arc. The air was lighter here, cleaner, but the weight on his shoulders didn't lessen. He didn't walk fast—but with every step, his expression sharpened. His jaw tightened. His hands were loose but ready. As he made his way back toward the dim alley where the three scumbags waited, the city moved around him unaware.
The tower loomed in the far distance behind him—silent and monolithic—but Niko's eyes were fixed ahead.
He was ready.
It was time to begin.