They returned to Boo's quarters by way of a quieter passage, bypassing the thrum of the outer market. Perseus had insisted. Nyxia hadn't argued—her new armor was heavier than expected, and her limbs still tingled from the final pulse of the Truth Gauntlet.
Their boots echoed down the iron-slick hallway until they reached their room—a dusky, perfumed suite tucked into one of Boo's many upper-tier wings. The door hissed open with a touch of Perseus's palm on the rune-lock. The moment they stepped inside, the false hush of the city gave way to stillness and the faint scent of lavender oil.
Loque, curled in the shadows near the divan, lifted his head as they entered. His pale blue eyes narrowed with curiosity as Nyxia unhooked the mismatched pieces of scavenged leather she'd strapped on post-contest and tossed them onto the nearest trunk.
Perseus laid the newly-won armor out over the velvet cushions. Even in the dim light, it shimmered—faint threads of energy coiling through the shadowplate as if the material remembered movement, remembered tension. The runes stitched along the seams glowed faintly when touched, like breath on glass.
Nyxia traced a finger down the thigh guard. "It's lighter than it looks," she murmured.
"Flexible too," Perseus said. He ran a thumb along the reinforced waist bracing. "You could dance in this."
"I could kill in this," she replied with a grin.
Piece by piece, he helped her adjust it—shoulder guards first, then the fitted vambraces that locked around her forearms with a quiet magnetic click. The armor molded to her like poured shadow. With each strap and seal, it seemed to draw a little tighter—not uncomfortably, but with a purposeful tension. Like it was waking up.
He stepped behind her, guiding the high-neck collar into place. As he did, his fingers paused.
"What is it?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder.
"There's a stitch here," he said. He leaned closer. "No—words. Look."
He stepped around her, tilting the collar so she could see. Etched into the inside lining, barely visible beneath the lacquered weave, was a thread of crimson embroidery. Delicate. Slanted. Goblin script, unmistakable.
Nyxia read it aloud, slowly: "Should this armor be found on a corpse, it should be returned to Skivv in Serath'Kai."
She raised her brow. "Charming."
"Typical," Perseus muttered. "He probably tags every prize he hands out. Ensures he gets them back eventually."
She laughed—a low, sharp sound. "He's either very confident… or very greedy."
"You can be both," Perseus said, stepping back to give her space.
She flexed her arms, rolling her shoulders. The armor adjusted with her, seamless and silent. There was no drag when she moved, no tightness in the joints. She took a few steps, then pivoted sharply.
"Feels like it's adjusting to me," she said.
Perseus watched her carefully. "You look steadier."
She crouched low, fingers splayed on the floor, then sprang upward in a quick lunge. The armor didn't slow her down. If anything, it helped.
"I feel stronger," she said, surprised. "And… faster."
Loque tilted his head, watching her movements with cautious interest. His tail flicked once, then settled again.
Nyxia looked down at herself. The bodysuit gleamed faintly—tight in all the right places, but built with purpose. Functional. Tactical. Dangerous.
"I could get used to this."
He glanced at her sidelong. "You might have to."
She paused, then looked up at him fully. The lamplight caught in her eyes—faint silver threading through frost-blue irises. "You still think Boo's going to help us?"
"I think," he said, folding his arms, "that Boo doesn't help anyone unless she's helping herself first."
Nyxia exhaled. "Then we'd better make ourselves useful."
Perseus nodded once. Then his voice dropped slightly. "We'll go back to her soon. Get the full details of her plan. But for now… rest."
She nodded. The armor flexed around her as she sat on the edge of the divan.
Perseus turned to the door, then paused. "Nyx?"
"Hm?"
"You look good in black."
She smirked. "Tell me something I don't know."
He gave a short laugh—just once—He examined the runework along her shoulders, then knelt and tapped the plates at her hips. "Void-thread lining. Enchanted weave in the joints. This isn't just scrap armor. He knew what he was giving you."
Nyxia's gaze darkened. "Then the question is—why?"
Before Perseus could answer, a soft chime echoed from the corridor outside. A signal from Boo's attendants.
"She's waiting," Perseus said.
Nyxia grabbed her bow from the table, slung it over her shoulder with one fluid motion, and glanced back at him.
"Ready?"
He nodded. "Let's go find out what Boo really wants."
And together, they stepped into the hallway, the weight of the new armor—and the favor it cost—settling around them like the first shadow before a storm.
The doors closed behind them with a soft chime, and the light shifted.
Warm. Amber. Intimate.
Boo's den was more lavish than the last time they'd entered it—if that were possible. The ceiling seemed lower, the air thicker, the scent of burning lotus mingling with jasmine and something darker, more primal. Curtains of sheer black and violet hung in slow swaying arcs, moving despite the stillness of the air. It was not just a room. It was a statement: this was Boo's domain, and in it, she reigned.
She lounged like a queen on a velvet chaise, legs crossed, one booted foot resting lightly on the edge of a gilded table. Her lingerie was breathtakingly impractical—deep crimson lace that shimmered faintly with heat, translucent in places, and threaded with narrow chains of gold. It clung to her curves like a lover's hand, baring more than it concealed, and draped artfully off one shoulder, revealing the smooth line of her collarbone and the swell of a glowing rune that pulsed in time with her heartbeat.
Perseus visibly stiffened, averting his gaze to a far-too-interesting wall hanging. Nyxia rolled her eyes, though even she had to admit—it was distracting.
Boo raised a brow, lips parting into a sly smile as her golden eyes swept over them. "Well, well. Look who's come crawling back from their morning romp through the slums."
She tilted her head. "And you wore my little gift, no less."
Nyxia's mouth twitched, just slightly. "You mean the insult you left in place of actual clothes?"
"Oh, darling," Boo purred, sipping from a crystal goblet filled with something dark and bubbling, "if I wanted to insult you, I'd have left heels and a leash. The swimsuit was… inspiration."
Perseus let out a cough that sounded a lot like he was choking on his own breath.
Boo grinned at him, eyes sparkling. "Word travels fast down here, you know. Half the market's still talking about the pale-skinned huntress in the scandalous lace and the paladin blushing like a virgin altar boy."
"I wasn't—" Perseus started.
"You absolutely were," Boo cut in smoothly. "Adorable, really."
"I saw the market footage," Boo added with a smirk, holding up a silver shard—a scrying mirror, flickering faintly with a frozen image of Nyxia in the crowd, hips cocked, robe fluttering just enough to scandalize an entire row of shopkeepers. "You caused quite the ripple, darling. I haven't seen a goblin choke on a pastry like that since the Red Lantern Parade."
Nyxia arched a brow. "You planned that."
"I don't believe in planning. I believe in opportunities." Boo took a sip of her wine, her eyes never leaving Nyxia's. "And I had a feeling you'd look delicious in black lace."
Perseus cleared his throat loudly.
Boo ignored him, eyes dragging lazily down Nyxia's new armor now. She circled once around the huntress, every click of her heels on the stone floor calculated. Her golden eyes glimmered—not just with amusement, but something deeper. Analytical. Arcane.
Nyxia shifted her weight, one hip cocked. "Well, at least the attention got us something."
She tapped the vambrace of her new armor.
Boo's gaze flicked toward it.
Instantly, her demeanor changed.
She sat up slowly, goblet lowering, her eyes scanning the bodysuit with a predator's focus. The moment hung too long—not just her usual smirk, not just a tease.
Boo tilted her head, watching Nyxia with the kind of focus one might reserve for rare jewels or dangerous weapons. Her finger idly traced the rim of her wine glass, the curve of her body draped in silk and shadows—gossamer black lace that clung just enough to tease and concealed nothing but modesty itself. Every movement she made was deliberate, every smile edged with hunger or humor.
"Shadowplates with dusksteel lattice. Void-thread runework. Adaptive enchantments." Her fingers hovered, not quite touching, but close enough to make Nyxia's skin prickle beneath the layered plating. "You won this in a game?"
"We earned it," Nyxia said.
"Oh, I'm sure you did." Boo smiled faintly.
But then—for the barest of moments—her eyes narrowed. Her expression pinched like a muscle remembering pain. A single furrow carved its way into her brow.
She saw something.
And then it was gone.
The smile returned, smooth and careless. She stepped back and reclined into her throne of blackened silk, the robe pooling around her like dark water. She crossed one leg over the other, exposing more thigh than was decent and seemingly not caring at all.
"Well," she said at last, swirling her wine. "Since we're all geared up and gorgeous, shall we talk business?"
Nyxia nodded slowly. "We're listening."
Boo set her glass down. Her tone, for the first time, turned serious.
"Ves'Sariel's trail runs cold. She's not hiding, not exactly. She's slipping between cracks that most people can't even see. But she's not doing it alone."
Perseus leaned forward. "You said you'd help us track her."
"I will." Boo tapped her temple. "I've got ears in places that most people don't even have names for. My informants keep tabs on anything that whispers too long or glows too bright. And one of them—one I trusted—is moving things he shouldn't be."
"Hollow-touched artifacts," Nyxia guessed.
Boo nodded once. "Exactly. Discreet shipments. Little trinkets. Nothing overt. But all of them tainted. Some minor. Some… more serious." Her voice dropped slightly. "They're feeding something. Testing the waters. I don't know if it's her work directly, or one of her followers trying to make a name for themselves."
Perseus crossed his arms. "You want us to track this informant."
"Find him. Shut it down." Boo's smile returned. "Quietly, if possible. Bloodily, if not."
Nyxia's eyes narrowed. "And if he's not just moving things… but making them?"
Boo's expression didn't change. "Then I want whatever he's building brought back here."
"Alive?"
"If possible."
Perseus exhaled through his nose. "That's a lot of ground to cover."
"I've already done most of the scouting for you." Boo snapped her fingers. A projection flared to life in the air above her wine glass—an ethereal map of the Serath'Kai underlevels. Glowing paths traced recent sightings. One particular route pulsed crimson.
"The thugs moving the artifacts were last seen leaving a scrapyard on the edge of the Warrens. They travel light, move fast. One of them used to run with Skivv's crew before they got greedy. He might recognize the armor. Play it smart."
Nyxia nodded. "And when we find them?"
Boo bared her teeth. "Send a message."
Just then, the door creaked open.
Switch limped in—clutching a rag against a small head wound and grinning like a goblin who'd just won a cursed lottery.
"Speak of knives and they appear," Boo muttered. "Switch, darling. I thought I sent you to gather intel, not get mugged."
"I did both," Switch wheezed, eyes wide with glee. "Turns out our little artifact peddlers aren't just smuggling—they're making deliveries. A caravan left not an hour ago headed toward the Hollow drop point east of the Drainpipe District."
He tossed a bloodied data shard onto Boo's lap. "With schedules. And names."
"Good boy," Boo said, lightly tossing the shard to Perseus. "Now go soak your skull."
Switch saluted woozily. "Already forgot where I live."
He stumbled out.
Perseus studied the shard, then looked at Nyxia.
"We can intercept them before they leave the city."
Nyxia pulled her bow tighter across her back. Her armor whispered against itself as she moved.
"Then we hunt," she said.
Boo raised her glass again. "Just try not to make too much of a mess. It's hard enough getting blood out of cobblestone."
Nyxia smirked. "No promises."
And with that, they turned and left, the soft click of Boo's glass echoing behind them as her gaze lingered just a little longer on the armor Nyxia wore.
Only when they were gone did Boo lean back and whisper to herself—
"What did Skivv give you?"
And why, she didn't say aloud, did it feel like something was watching her… through it?