The mission details burned in Kain's mind as he left the Cipher Lords' chamber.
"Infiltrate the Veil District. Locate and neutralize The Wraith."
No additional intelligence. No backup. Just a name and a death sentence.
Perfect.
A part of him knew this was a trap. Sylva wanted him gone. Magnus? He was just toying with him. And Veyne—he was the wild card.
But Kain had no choice. If he refused, he'd die here. If he failed, he'd die there. Either way, the game was already in motion.
He just had to change the rules.
---
Nightfall – Veil District
The Veil District was unlike any other part of the city.
A forgotten ruin swallowed by neon shadows, filled with outcasts, black-market traders, and Cipher rogues who had long abandoned the hierarchy. A place where the law held no power, and the strongest ruled.
Kain kept to the alleys, blending into the crowds. Without a Cipher, he was practically invisible here—just another nameless face in a district full of ghosts.
The Wraith… Who the hell are they?
If he was going to survive this, he needed information.
Kain's eyes scanned the streets, searching for a lead. He didn't have much time—Sylva had probably sent someone to watch him, waiting for him to fail.
Then he spotted it.
A mark.
A faded insignia scratched into a wall—a symbol used by Cipher hunters. It meant one thing: a bounty was active here.
And bounties meant information.
He approached the nearest den—an underground bar tucked beneath a collapsed bridge. The scent of rust, oil, and old blood lingered in the air as he stepped inside.
All around him, Cipher mercenaries and criminals exchanged whispers.
Kain slid onto a stool. The bartender, a grizzled man with cybernetic eyes, glanced at him. "You don't belong here, kid."
Kain tapped a coin against the counter. "Looking for someone."
The bartender raised an eyebrow but took the coin. "Who?"
Kain leaned in slightly. "The Wraith."
Silence.
The chatter in the room died almost instantly. A few mercenaries stiffened. One even reached for their weapon.
The bartender's cybernetic eyes flickered. "You don't want to be looking for The Wraith, kid."
"I don't have a choice."
The bartender studied him for a long moment, then exhaled. "You're either incredibly stupid or suicidal."
He set a small holo-chip on the counter.
"Take it and leave."
Kain picked it up, not questioning his luck. He turned, heading for the exit—
—and immediately ducked as a blade whistled past his head.
"He's Cipher-bound!" a voice growled.
Kain cursed. The moment he mentioned The Wraith, he had made himself a target.
Three figures closed in. He didn't get a good look at them before the first one lunged.
Kain sidestepped, slamming his elbow into the attacker's ribs. Another swung a baton at his head—he ducked, then twisted their arm, forcing a disarm.
The third attacker drew a Cipher Blade—a shimmering weapon that distorted the air around it.
Kain's instincts screamed. He barely dodged as the blade cut through the space he had occupied a second ago. Too close.
This isn't a normal fight.
Kain reached into his pocket, pressing the holo-chip against his wrist. The data transferred instantly into his neural interface. A single address flashed in his vision.
He gritted his teeth.
I don't have time for this.
One of the attackers lunged again—this time, Kain moved first. He grabbed a broken pipe from the ground, parried the Cipher Blade at just the right angle—sending a shockwave through the air—then slammed his knee into the wielder's stomach.
They crumpled.
The last attacker hesitated. Kain didn't.
He was already moving.
One strike to the throat. Another to the knee. The mercenary hit the ground, wheezing.
Silence.
Kain exhaled, heart pounding. The whole fight had lasted less than fifteen seconds.
The bartender just shook his head. "You're already dead, kid."
Kain didn't respond. He turned and slipped out into the streets.
The address burned in his vision.
Time to find The Wraith.
And hope he wasn't walking into his own grave.