Lex walked through the crowded streets, her red hair gleaming in stark contrast to the grim surroundings. The city was alive with the steam-powered hum of industry—pipes crisscrossed overhead, steam vents hissed, and the clattering of metal filled the air, but the streets themselves were a portrait of desperation. Men and women shuffled along, their clothes torn and stained, faces gaunt from hunger, eyes sunken and tired. The wealthy had their airships, their sleek machines, but the poor crowded the streets like shadows, forced to cling to the meager warmth of exhaust vents or the shelter of alleyways.
The air was thick with the stench of sweat, oil, and the ever-present grime of a city that hadn't seen daylight in years. A heavy fog hung in the air, remnants of steam rising from the labyrinthine pipes that ran throughout the city, leaving a dull, metallic taste on the tongue. Despite the suffering around her, Lex moved through it all with ease, her movements deliberate and sure, as if the very ground was hers to command.
Her bright red hair, stark against the drab colors of the crowd, caught the eyes of nearly every passerby, though few dared meet her gaze. There was an unsettling quality to the way she carried herself—eyes covered in bandages, yet somehow aware of everything around her. A subtle tension followed her wherever she went, as if she were a storm cloud, ominous and unapproachable.
Whispers followed in her wake. "Who is she?"
"Don't get too close."
"She's trouble."
But Lex paid them no mind. Her destination was clear.
At the end of the street, looming above the masses like a silent guardian, was a white gothic structure. The building stood out—immaculate, despite the surrounding filth. Its pillars were freshly painted, the scent of paint still sharp in the air. The words "Northeast Borough Chamber of Commerce" were etched into the stone, a symbol of wealth and influence in a city where power was everything.
She studied the building for a moment, noting the people moving in and out—merchants, nobles, and traders, all rushing to secure their piece of whatever fortune the Chamber held. Money. Power. Information. This is where it all happens.
Lex entered without hesitation.
Inside, the space was vast and open, the high ceilings adding to the sense of isolation. Steam-powered machines whirred softly in the background, hidden from view but ever-present. The floor was busy, filled with a mix of nobles, merchants, and traders, all speaking in low voices, exchanging goods and information in hushed tones. But as soon as Lex stepped inside, a subtle shift occurred. Conversations slowed, eyes turned toward her. The room seemed to hold its breath, just for a moment.
Lex didn't care for the attention. She moved through the crowd with purpose, her gaze sweeping over the people in the room, assessing them with the sharpness of a predator. She could feel their unease, the way their whispers died as she passed.
Then, her attention was drawn to a commotion at the far end of the room—a confrontation between a young girl and a short, balding man.
The girl was striking—no older than sixteen, with long blonde hair that cascaded over her shoulders in waves. She stood tall and confident, her posture rigid with authority. Beside her were two burly bodyguards, their eyes scanning the crowd, waiting for a threat that wasn't there yet.
The bald man before her was a trembling wreck. His voice was panicked, pleading. "Please, Miss Cynthia! We didn't mean to—there were pirates! We couldn't stop them! They were too strong! We had no choice but to give them the murlocs!"
The girl's eyes burned with fury, her voice cutting through the noise of the room like a blade. "You're telling me you let pirates steal from me? You failed me. And now you're standing here making excuses?"
Lex's eyes flicked over to them, and for a moment, she stood still, watching the scene unfold. There was something… fragile about the way the bald man cringed under the girl's gaze. It was the fear of someone who knew they were about to lose everything. Lex's lips twitched into a faint, amused smile.
The girl—Cynthia—was demanding answers, but her anger wasn't backed by the same raw power that Lex possessed. And that was the opening Lex needed. She could sense the powerlessness beneath Cynthia's sharp words.
Without a sound, Lex stepped forward. Her presence seemed to cut through the room, the tension shifting the moment she arrived. All eyes now turned to her, and the air itself seemed to grow still.
"I can help you solve this problem," Lex said, her voice smooth but carrying a cold weight that silenced the room. Her words landed with finality, like a stone thrown into calm water—unsettling and inevitable.
Both Cynthia and the bald man turned toward her, surprise flickering in their eyes. The girl took an instinctive step back, as though something about Lex unsettled her.
Lex's appearance was enough to command attention—her pale skin, the bandages covering her eyes, and her tall, imposing frame made her look like something out of a nightmare. Her red hair—bright, almost unnatural—framed her face, catching the light as though it had a life of its own.
The bald man stumbled back, his face draining of color. He opened his mouth to speak but stopped himself, as if unable to find the words.
Cynthia, though more composed, couldn't hide the wariness in her eyes. She regarded Lex with a mixture of curiosity and unease.
"What do you want?" Cynthia asked, her voice still strong but laced with a touch of hesitation.
Lex's lips curled into a smile, but there was no warmth in it. "I can help you recover those murlocs. The pirates won't bother you again. But understand this," she said, stepping closer. Her every movement was calculated, her voice a low whisper of danger. "I don't do favors. When I do this, you'll owe me. A debt."
The temperature in the room seemed to drop. The whispers that had started before now returned in hushed murmurs, though no one dared to speak too loudly. The bald man, visibly shaken, took another step back, trying to shrink into the shadows.
Cynthia, still wary, narrowed her eyes. "A debt?" she echoed, her voice tight with suspicion. "What kind of debt?"
Lex tilted her head slightly, the smile still fixed on her face. "You don't need to worry about that. I'll come for what I'm owed when the time is right."
Cynthia hesitated for a long moment, her gaze flicking from Lex to the man beside her. There was something about Lex's presence that made it impossible to refuse.
Finally, Cynthia nodded, though her posture remained tense. "Fine. But don't waste my time."
Lex's smile deepened, a glimmer of something dangerous in her eyes. "I don't waste time. I make it count."
As she turned to leave, Cynthia and the bald man followed, but the room seemed to remain on edge. Lex's footsteps echoed through the hall as she led them out, her shadow looming larger than ever before.
And the whispers followed her—louder now, filled with fear and awe.