Seven days before the start of the rebellion
Hana crouched low behind a crumbling wall; her breath barely moved the air. The darkened alley reeked of rot, the perfect cover for the quiet assassin she would play. For days, information of a key informant for the Arbiters had reached her ears—an enforcer known as Alrick, stationed in the heart of the merchant district. Alrick's information pipelines fed directly into the Arbiters' council chambers, and eliminating him would not only sever a vital communication line but also send a clear message: nowhere was safe.
She moved her hood and tugged her scarf higher to conceal her face. The dagger at her side gleamed faintly under the moonlight, its edge freshly sharpened. Her target was inside a small, lavish house near the district's edge. Alrick was arrogant, confident in his protections: two guards at the door and one patrolling the rear alley. It was predictable.
