The city buzzed faintly with the electric tension that always followed violence.
Voidspawn ichor still sizzled on the cobblestone, evaporating into a greasy mist. Loque paced nearby, growling low in his throat, while Nyxia leaned against a rusted pipe, breathing hard. Perseus scanned the alley ahead, hammer still clutched in hand.
It was Loque who twitched first—ears flicking toward a nearby junction where a very loud voice echoed through the narrow corridors of neon.
"YOU ABSOLUTE BUCKET OF SCRAP—I PAID YOU! I SCANNED THE CHIP TWICE!"
The voice was high-pitched, nasal, and livid.
"Guess we're not the only ones having a bad day," Nyxia muttered.
Perseus nodded, and together they rounded the corner.
There, illuminated by flickering pink neon and standing before a battered vending machine labeled SPROCKCO NUTRI-CAKES™: NOW 11% LESS TOXIC!, was a goblin in a ragged, rune-stitched coat. He jabbed at the machine with a humming spanner, his teeth bared in furious frustration.
The vending unit blinked calmly. "Credit not accepted. Please insert valid payment or step away before incineration protocol engages."
"I SWEAR, IF YOU HAD A THROAT I'D—"
The goblin spun around as Nyxia cleared her throat, caught mid-vandalism, but recovered with an oily grin.
"Ah! Patrons! Witnesses! Definitely not trying to break into this hopeless excuse for snack delivery. Just... quality assurance feedback."
Hovering beside him was a round, twitchy drone with a single glowing lens. It swiveled toward Loque and let out a sputtering noise that sounded far too much like goblin laughter.
"Name's Switch," the goblin said brightly, giving a quick bow. "Informant. Engineer. Part-time gambler. Proud handler of that judgmental sphere of doom—Whirr."
Perseus lowered his hammer slightly. "You live down here?"
"Oh, I love it here!" Switch beamed, spinning once with outstretched arms. "Where else can you find bioluminescent vending trees, programmable sunsets, AND twenty-four-hour noodle stalls that also sell illegal firecrackers?"
He gestured broadly to the neon-glazed walls and humming machinery overhead. "You've got built-in breeze from turbine fans the size of wyverns, a glowing sky that never rains, and ads that know exactly what you want before you even do! This place is alive, my friends—alive with profit, personality, and perfectly legal synthetic mushrooms that talk back if you roast them wrong!"
Nyxia raised a brow.
Switch continued without missing a beat. "Sure, it's a little grimy, maybe haunted. But that just adds character. It's like nature—if nature wore eyeliner and sold you armor-piercing gum."
Then his grin sharpened. "And you? You're not sightseeing. You're hunting."
Nyxia didn't answer. Her stare did that for her.
Switch's grin widened. "Let me guess. Paladin with a light-forged hammer, blood on your boots, and a woman with haunted eyes and a ghost cat? You're hunting someone real nasty."
"Ves'Sariel," Perseus said flatly.
"Bingo!" Switch snapped his fingers. "And I know someone who's seen her. Goes by Boo. Gorgeous. Lethal. Allergic to silence."
Nyxia arched an eyebrow. "You're offering to take us to her?"
"In exchange for a small favor. Help me settle a... minor misunderstanding with a local debt collector, and I'll escort you right to Boo. Safe. Sound. Unstabbed."
"A favor for a favor," Perseus said.
Switch gave a little finger-pistol gesture. "The classic kind."
Nyxia exhaled through her nose. "Lead on, then."
They followed him out of the alley and into the heart of Serath'Kai's lower districts—past flickering signs, broken archways, and towering metal trees that swayed under the breath of massive overhead fans. The sky wasn't real, but the sunlight lamp above them pulsed in timed intervals, mimicking the passing of hours.
Neon vines ran across the buildings like veins, some of them pulsing with soft color, others blinking erratically. The scent of oil, alchemical perfume, and wet copper filled the air.
Switch never stopped talking.
"Boo's a lot. Think of her like a loaded pistol wrapped in silk, but the silk's also barbed wire, and the pistol's actually a bomb."
"Sounds delightful," Nyxia muttered.
"She is! In a stab-you-if-you-blink kind of way."
They passed a market square glowing with unnatural light. Holograms floated through the air advertising:
"Grinda's Biolume Boutique – For Skin That Glows Even in Despair!""Synth-Ale – Now 20% Less Toxic Than the Competition!""Need a New Identity? Ask for Crix at the Red Lantern!"
A pack of vulpera children raced past, bumping into a merchant examining a glowing vial. A second later, he cursed and grabbed at his empty belt. The children vanished into a side alley with ghostlike speed.
Loque sniffed after them, huffing.
"Thieves with style," Switch said. "Can't even be mad."
Moments later, two dwarves argued outside a tavern lit with plasma-lamps. One waved a mug of green sludge. "I'm tellin' ya! Ye can't brew with arcanite! Ye'll wake the spirits!"
"Spirits love it," the other replied, elbowing a glowing jukebox. "You just need to sing the right frequencies."
They both shouted louder as the jukebox sparked and played something that sounded like bagpipes mating with a blender.
Loque twitched. Perseus looked like he wanted to smash it with his hammer.
"I hate this place," Nyxia said.
They turned down a spiral ramp that led to the underdistrict—The Gilded Tangle.
This was where the gloss peeled away and the city showed its bones. Lights were redder, signs more desperate.
"Bloodsport Tonight: Winner Keeps Their Teeth!""Get Patched. Get Paid.""Drinks Free If You Cry."
Here, the air smelled of sweat, smoke, and lotus ash. The floor was tacky with dried something, and every passerby wore armor, shadowed eyes, or both.
Even Loque seemed uneasy, his tail curling low.
"Boo's somewhere below," Switch said. "She doesn't like people knowing where she sleeps. But she likes having eyes everywhere."
Perseus narrowed his gaze. "She's watching us?"
"Almost definitely."
As if to confirm it, Nyxia glanced up—and spotted a tiny orb tucked into a beam above them. It blinked red. Then winked out.
They passed under it.
At last, they reached the door.
Carved into the side of a scrap-welded cathedral, the entrance was shaped like a half-smiling skull with runes drawn in pink glow-ink along the seams. The sigil over it was a rose gripped between sharp teeth.
Switch stopped, turned, and took a breath.
"Okay. Final warning: don't lie, don't flirt unless you mean it, and if she offers you tea, it's probably drugged. Whatever you do," he whispered, "don't try to lie to her. Or touch her. Or suggest she wears anything under those leathers. It… didn't go well for the last guy."
"Charming," Nyxia muttered.
"She's loyal," he said. "Brutal, but loyal."
Perseus adjusted his grip on his hammer. "Then let's meet her."
Switch knocked twice. Then once more. Slow.
The door hissed open, releasing a wave of warm, perfumed air laced with ozone and something sweet—like clove and bloodwine.
A voice drifted out—smooth, sultry, and amused.
"Well. You brought me something shiny, Switch. Come in."
Nyxia raised her brow. Perseus blinked. Loque growled softly.
"Here goes nothing," Switch said.
And stepped into Boo's lair.