Sabir was in a daze when it all happened. The esper before him radiated an overwhelming aura that left him quaking. His breath hitched, chest tightening as he struggled to make sense of it. Why did this man want to speak to him of all people? Sure, he was from The Limbo, but he was here fairly and had done nothing to break the laws.

His first priority in this deadly situation was keeping Max and Sam out of it. He swallowed the lump in his throat, his thoughts racing. He had to come clean to the man, he realized. If he didn’t, it could cause a larger chain of issues, pulling his friends into a mess they didn’t deserve.

Sabir could sense the tension rolling off Max and Sam. They weren’t ready for this—hell, neither was he—but he had to keep them safe. He shot Sam a shaky, reassuring smile. She looked the most terrified, her hands trembling at her sides.

Suddenly, before Sabir could process what was happening, the man in armor appeared before him. Too close. Far too close. Sabir’s breath stalled in his throat. They were so near that Sabir could feel the man's warm breath against his skin. His stomach churned with fear as he forced himself to meet the man’s gaze. The man's eyes were black voids, unblinking, like dark abysses that threatened to swallow him whole.

Sabir’s heart raced, pounding in his ears. Sweat slicked his palms, and he clenched his fists, trying to suppress the growing panic. His mind spun through worst-case scenarios. This man was far too powerful—Sabir knew he’d die if it came to a fight. But even then, his survival instincts kicked in, and he started calculating how he might throw a punch—just one, if it came to that.

Then, before he could even move, the world shifted.

Shadows swirled around them both like ink bleeding through water, dark and suffocating. Sabir’s vision blurred as the shadows thickened, cold tendrils of darkness coiling around him, squeezing the air from his lungs. Panic surged through him as the ground vanished beneath his feet. He tried to move, to resist, but his limbs felt heavy, frozen. He was falling—or was the world pulling him deeper into the void?

The coldness of the shadows seeped into his skin, numbing him from the inside out. It felt like he was trapped in a blizzard of black ice, his body disoriented and unmoored. The rush of motion—fast, too fast—disoriented him further, his stomach twisting painfully. His sense of time shattered, seconds stretching into what felt like hours, until—

Suddenly, it stopped.

The shadows unraveled, releasing him, and the world snapped back into focus. Sabir staggered, his knees buckling as his body fought to catch up with the teleportation. The ground beneath him—cracked pavement—felt real again, but his head spun violently, and he collapsed to the ground, vomiting onto the stone.

Cassius, the man in armor, crouched beside him. Sabir expected cruelty—mocking words or indifference—but instead, he felt a hand on his back, rubbing gently. The touch was steady, soothing. Sabir recoiled at first, his body stiffening under Cassius’ touch. An esper, as powerful as this man, could probably kill him with a touch. Sabir couldn't afford to be naïve. Today may be his last day on earth.

"It's just motion sickness," Cassius said, his voice calm, almost reassuring, despite Sabir's distrust. "It happens the first few times. Take a moment to catch your breath."

Sabir wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, still reeling from the experience. The unexpected kindness in Cassius’ voice threw him off balance, disorienting him further. This wasn’t the man he’d expected.

As he regained his composure, he began to take in their surroundings. They were on a street somewhere in The Commons. Judging by how run-down the area looked, Sabir could guess it was a lower district of The Commons, closer to The Threshold. Based on that assumption, they had traveled almost half a kilometer.

"Why me?" Sabir asked, his voice trembling slightly. "I haven't done anything wrong."

Cassius studied him for a moment, his expression unreadable. "I apologize, I was fairly vague, huh? Well, I think it's best we sit down and talk about it all," he said, gesturing towards a small building with the worn-out sign that read "Diner."

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"I think it's best you replenish all that food you lost coming here," Cassius added.

"I came here involuntarily," Sabir replied, his frustration boiling over. The man before him seemed like a living contradiction. The ruthlessness' he displayed prior felt like it was all an act.

Cassius paused, turning to face Sabir. "Look, you coming in or what?" he said before heading into the diner.

Sabir hesitated for a moment, weighing his options. He didn't trust this man, but he also knew that refusing could lead to even more trouble. With a resigned sigh, he followed Cassius inside.

The diner was dimly lit and almost empty, save for a cook standing by the counter who gave them a curious glance before returning to his work. Cassius chose a booth in the corner, away from prying eyes, and motioned for Sabir to sit.

Reluctantly, Sabir slid into the seat opposite Cassius. The man seemed more relaxed now, but there was still an air of authority about him that kept Sabir on edge.

Cassius called out to the cook, "Can we get some grub over here?"

The cook looked up, his face weary. "Only got mashed potatoes," he replied in a depressed voice.

Cassius nodded. "That'll do. Two servings, please."

Turning his attention back to Sabir, Cassius took off his fingerless gloves and extended a hand. "Name's Cassius Ward. I'm a government enforcer."

Sabir hesitated before shaking Cassius's hand, his mind racing with questions.

"You're a person of interest in my investigation," Cassius continued. "And I think you can help me with something important."

Sabir frowned. "Investigation? What do you want from me, Mr. Ward?"

"Calling me Cassius is fine," the man replied. "A woman was killed about 22 hours ago on the highway in Tetra City."

Sabir's confusion deepened. "What does that have to do with me?"

Cassius nodded solemnly and reached into his coat, pulling out a photograph. He handed it to Sabir, whose eyes widened as he looked at the image. The woman in the photo had long black hair and the same angular jawline as Sabir, but she was bruised and bloody, her eyes closed.

Sabir's heart raced as he looked up at Cassius, his voice frantic. "Why do you have a picture of my sister? What happened to her?”

Cassius met his gaze steadily. "Sabir, Cynthia Quinn is dead.”

Sabir felt as if the ground had been pulled out from under him. His mind raced, piecing together fragments of memories and the stark reality Cassius had just laid before him. He wanted to scream, to demand answers, but his throat tightened, words escaping him. He couldn't believe this was actually happening. This was all surely a dream.

The cook arrived with two plates of mashed potatoes, placing them on the table with a sympathetic glance at Sabir. The simple, warm food seemed like an absurd comfort in the midst of such shattering news.

"Eat," Cassius urged gently. "You'll need your strength. There's a lot we need to discuss."

Sabir stared at the plate, his appetite gone. "Why?" he finally managed to choke out. "How did she die?"

Cassius sighed, leaning back in his seat. "Well, they tried to brush it off as just a car crash. Pretty convenient, don’t you think? But that was the initial consensus, but things changed when a rare poison was found in the driver's bloodstream. The hospital notified the local guilds, but none of them bothered to investigate. By chance, the report landed on my desk."

Sabir's brow furrowed. "What kind of poison?"

"It's a poison used almost exclusively by The Triads," Cassius explained. "I did some digging on the truck driver, and he came out clean—no criminal record, no ties to any shady organizations."

Sabir's heart raced. "So, what does that mean?"

Cassius leaned forward, his eyes intense. "It means your sister was murdered, and I'm going to find out why.”