Ren's days were always spent quietly observing, learning every angle, every weakness. He made his moves with surgical precision, careful to stay invisible within the rotting framework of The Pit. His small victories—trading, bartering, securing alliances with traders like Brael—were always just a part of something greater. His ultimate goal was to escape, but it wasn't enough to simply leave; he needed to emerge unscathed, and with everything he needed to survive on the other side.
And now, he was one step closer.
The deal with Brael had been set in motion. Brael was a dangerous ally, a trader with influence, the kind of person who could make or break a man's life in The Pit. Ren knew Brael had his doubts, as everyone did, about whether Ren was just another desperate soul or something more. That's why tonight mattered—it was a show of commitment, and Brael demanded proof.
Halden was Ren's target, a rival trader whose growing operations had started encroaching on Brael's business. Brael had painted Halden as a nuisance who needed to be removed, but Ren knew there was more to it. There were always layers, motives stacked beneath motives. Brael needed Ren to handle the matter quietly, which was why Ren had been sent alone. But Brael had his own motives for sending Ren alone. This wasn't just a test of loyalty—it was a calculated risk. Ren knew Brael had enemies, and Halden was one of them, but there was something more beneath the surface. Brael hadn't chosen Ren for his expertise alone; he had sent him because, in Brael's eyes, Ren was expendable. If Ren succeeded, Brael would eliminate a rival. But if Ren failed, Brael would lose nothing, and could easily spin Ren's death as a minor setback, one less unknown variable in his dealings.
Brael was playing a dangerous game, and Ren knew it. But Brael didn't understand Ren's true nature. He didn't realize that Ren was playing a game of his own—one that went beyond the petty power struggles of The Pit. Brael thought he was using Ren, but Ren's loyalty lies with no one, he had his own plans.
As he crouched in the shadows, his eyes tracked the movement of Halden's men. The building Halden used as his base was a fortress of sorts—ragged, decrepit, but defensible. Ren's lips twitched into a small smile. Halden had become too comfortable, too secure in his position. He wouldn't be expecting Ren tonight, and that would be his undoing.
The Pit was at its quietest at this hour. The usual din of desperate voices and clanking metal had died down to a low hum. Ren could still hear distant skirmishes—people fighting over scraps, barely clinging to life. He paid it no mind. His focus was on the task at hand.
Ren had spent days preparing for this, watching Halden's men, memorizing their routines. The small details—the times they patrolled, where they stashed weapons, how they communicated—it all formed a map in Ren's mind. He had also planted small traps earlier, carefully hiding them beneath debris and within abandoned buildings nearby. Each step had been calculated.
Now, as he observed the final pieces falling into place, Ren reached into his coat and felt the trigger of the small device. It wasn't Brael's influence that had given him the upper hand, but his own foresight. The device wasn't a powerful explosive, but it was just enough to cause a distraction, and in the Pit, distractions were as good as weapons.
He crouched lower, eyes trained on the guards at Halden's main entrance. Two men, armed but relaxed, standing too far apart to effectively cover the doorway. Ren watched them exchange a few words, laugh, then go silent. They didn't expect trouble. A fatal miscalculation.
He shifted his focus to the rooftops. Lyra's people should be in position by now. Ren had fed them information to make them believe Halden was harboring valuable supplies, rare materials that could change their fortunes. Lyra, desperate and struggling, had taken the bait. Ren had even sold her a few scraps to seal the deal, casting himself as a low-level opportunist. By now, her people would be ready to strike.
Ren wasn't the one who would fight tonight—he had made sure others would do that for him. He pressed the button, and the world shook.
A low rumble spread through the alley as the crude bomb detonated beneath the pile of debris at the edge of Halden's territory. The guards scrambled, eyes wide, hands reaching for their weapons, but Ren was already in motion. He used the smoke and chaos to his advantage, slipping through the shadows like a predator stalking its prey. The guards having no idea when he came and went.
Inside the building, Halden's men were shouting, rushing to figure out what was happening. Ren moved silently, his steps precise as he navigated the narrow corridors. He had memorized every inch of the place, knowing where each wall had cracked, where the floors sagged.
He stopped at a junction where two of Halden's men were stationed. Their eyes darted nervously between the hallways, but they didn't see Ren until it was too late. In a single fluid motion, he struck, a thin wire slicing across the throat of the first guard. The second guard fumbled for his gun, but Ren was already on him, the blade flashing as it plunged into his chest.
Both men collapsed to the floor, their deaths silent. Ren didn't stop to look at them. His mission was clear. He continued forward, avoiding the thick of the fighting.
Lyra's people were entering now, spilling into the building from the rooftops, just as he had predicted. Ren had orchestrated the perfect distraction. They were the ones doing the heavy lifting, engaging Halden's men in brutal close-quarters combat, while Ren moved through the chaos unnoticed.
______ ______
The moment Lyra's boots hit the ground inside the building, she felt a surge of adrenaline pulse through her veins. The battle was already raging, her people fighting viciously against Halden's guards, but that wasn't what concerned her. Something about this night felt wrong, off in a way she couldn't quite place.
"Move! Now!" she barked at her men, her voice sharp as she urged them to press forward. She scanned the dimly lit hallways, her grip tightening on the knife she held. The skirmish was intensifying around her, the clash of steel, the grunts of men locked in combat echoing through the narrow corridors.
She had planned for chaos, expected it even—but not like this. The explosion Ren had orchestrated had thrown everything into disarray. Smoke still hung in the air, stinging her eyes, making it hard to see, hard to think. Her men were pressing forward, but it felt... too easy. Halden's guards were disorganized, confused, as if they weren't expecting this kind of attack.
"Stay focused," she muttered to herself, pushing through the thick haze. Ren had promised her that Halden's men would be caught off-guard, that the resources were real. But now, doubts gnawed at her. She didn't trust him—not completely—but desperation made her reckless. If there really was a stash of rare metals hidden here, it would change everything for her gang. It would give them the power they needed to survive in this forsaken place.
A guard lunged at her from the side, a flash of metal catching the dim light. She reacted instinctively, pivoting and slashing with her knife, cutting across his throat in a clean, practiced motion. The guard dropped without a sound, blood spilling across the cracked floor.
Lyra barely spared him a glance. She had no time for hesitation, not now. The stash had to be close, hidden somewhere deeper in the building. Every step she took, though, a creeping sense of unease clawed at her gut. Ren wasn't someone who gave away anything for free. There had to be more to this.
Where was he?
At this time, Ren reached the back of the building, where Halden himself would be hiding. Ren could hear the shouts, the desperate orders being given. Halden wasn't a fighter, he relied on others to protect him, and that would be his downfall.
Ren moved to the final door, a heavy steel frame that led into Halden's makeshift command room. Inside, Halden was flanked by two more guards, both armed and ready. They had heard the commotion but hadn't expected the door to open so suddenly.
Ren stepped into the room, calm and composed. His eyes met Halden's, and for a brief moment, the trader's confidence faltered. Ren saw the flicker of fear.
"You," Halden hissed, stepping back. "I know what this is about. Brael sent you, didn't he?"
Ren didn't respond. Words were unnecessary.
Certainly! Here's the revised version with more detailed, descriptive fight scenes:
The guards stepped forward, but Ren was faster. His body moved like a coiled serpent, precise and deadly. The first guard swung his weapon, a crude machete, aimed for Ren's midsection. But Ren sidestepped effortlessly, letting the blade slice through the air where he had been just a moment before. With fluid grace, Ren stepped inside the guard's reach, grabbed the man's wrist, and twisted sharply. A sickening snap echoed through the room as the guard's arm bent backward at an unnatural angle.
The guard let out a strangled cry, but Ren silenced him with a swift punch to the throat. The man's windpipe collapsed with a soft crunch, and he crumpled to the ground, choking on his own breath.
The second guard, realizing the threat, lunged at Ren with a wide arc of his knife. Ren ducked under the attack, his movements smooth and calculated. He slid behind the guard in one fluid motion, wrapping his arm around the man's neck and dragging him backward. The guard struggled, flailing wildly, but Ren's grip was unrelenting.
With a sharp twist, Ren snapped the guard's neck, the sound of bone breaking echoing off the walls. The body went limp in his arms, and Ren let it drop to the floor with a dull thud.
Blood was beginning to pool around the bodies, the dark liquid spreading across the cracked concrete floor. Halden backed away further, his eyes wide with terror, pressing himself against the far wall as if he could melt into the shadows and disappear.
Ren straightened, his cold gaze locking onto Halden. He wiped the blood from his hands with a ragged cloth, his expression unreadable. The room was silent now, save for the distant sounds of fighting outside, but in this small space, death hung thick in the air.
"Wait!" Halden's voice was filled with desperation now. "I can make a deal. Whatever Brael's offering, I can match it. Double it!"
Ren's eyes narrowed. Halden's fear was almost palpable. But Ren wasn't here for money, nor was he here for Brael. This was never about loyalty to any trader. Halden's fate had been sealed long before Brael made his request.
Halden was just another piece in Ren's larger plan. By eliminating him, Ren was disrupting one of The Pit's key power structures. It would create chaos, a vacuum that Brael would scramble to fill. And Ren knew Brael's greed would blind him to the bigger picture. Lyra and her gang were another essential piece in this elaborate chess game. While Halden's assassination and Brael's inevitable grab for power would set the stage, Lyra's gang would serve as the perfect wild card to push the chaos to its breaking point.
This wasn't about a quick payout, nor about gaining Brael's favor. Every step Ren took was part of his long, calculated plan that has been set into motion a long time ago. The Pit wasn't inescapable because of the walls or guards; it was inescapable because of the control people like Brael and Halden held over the desperate souls trapped inside. By playing them against each other, by sowing discord and weakening the structures of power, Ren was making his escape not just possible, but inevitable.
Halden, sensing the inevitable, made one last plea. "Please, I—"
The words were cut short as Ren's blade sliced through his throat, ending the conversation.
Ren watched as the trader's body crumpled to the floor, the life draining from his eyes. The room fell silent, save for the distant sounds of battle still raging outside. Ren wiped his blade clean, his expression unreadable. He had completed his task, but there was no sense of triumph. This was just business. Just survival.