Victor and Evelyn followed the directions Renard had given them, weaving through the maze of narrow alleyways and slick cobblestone paths that lined the canals of Bastion. The canals, choked with murky water, reflected the faint glow of gas lamps lining the streets. The city loomed above them with wrought-iron balconies and jagged rooftops. In this quieter part of town, the usual bustle of Bastion felt muffled, with only the occasional ripple of water or distant clatter of footsteps to break the stillness.
"This better be worth it," Evelyn muttered, her boots clicking against the damp stone. Her sharp eyes scanned their surroundings, always on alert.
